Sofia’s POV
My heart was beating so loudly I could hear it in my ears.
Damien didn’t sit. He didn’t rest. He just stood there, eyes fixed on the map-covered desk as if he were still chasing Rebecca’s ghost.
"After that suspicion," he continued, voice low, "I placed spies around the Thorn Pack. Quietly. Carefully. I didn’t want Alpha Nigel to know I was watching his brother."
I wiped my face quickly. "Damien—"
He ignored my interruption.
"For weeks, nothing happened. Nobody knew anything. Nobody talked. Nobody slipped."
His jaw tightened.
"But two days ago... I finally got confirmation."
My breath caught.
"Confirmation of who killed Rebecca," he finished.
My knees weakened.
Damien looked up at with eyes that were dead tired, emotionally drained, and still burning with fury.
"It was him," he said. "The bastard you saw downstairs. The head warrior of Thorn Pack. The man who took her. Tortured her. Murdered her."
He ran a hand across his face.
"I took permission from the Council, gathered every proof I had—and brought him here to be punished."
My voice trembled. "W-What... what are you going to do to him?"
Damien scoffed. A cold, humorless sound.
"What will I do to him?" he repeated. "Or what I have already done?"
My stomach twisted. "W-What do you an?"
Damien walked to the small glass bar in the corner and poured himself a drink. His hands were steady now, as if all the rage had already been burned out of him in the basent.
"He’s dead, Sofia," he said calmly, lifting the glass. "He died a few minutes before you ca upstairs."
I gasped.
Damien took a slow sip.
"And his headless body," he added quietly, "will be dropped at his pack border... exactly the sa way he left Rebecca at mine."
My hand flew over my mouth.
An eye for an eye.
A head for a head.
Damien placed the drink down and finally looked at .
Coldly.
Emotionlessly.
And that’s when I knew his heart was shutting down...
Not because of Rebecca.
But because of .
I swallowed hard and stepped forward. "Damien... I got an email. A scheduled mail. From Rebecca. She—she told everything. I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know."
His jaw flexed.
I kept talking, desperate. "And soone... soone called . A man. He told you were the one who—"
Damien let out a sharp, mocking scoff. "A man called you?"
I nodded quickly. "Yes. He said—"
"That man," Damien snarled, "was Rebecca’s killer."
My heart stopped.
My mouth slowly opened. "W-What?"
"Who else?" he barked.
His eyes were burning now—anger mixed with hurt, betrayal, exhaustion.
"He saw you as an easy tool. He used your pain. He used your fear. He used the fact that you don’t trust ."
"No," I whispered, shaking. "Damien, no—"
He looked away from .
"You believed him."
My chest cracked wide open. "Damien, I didn’t know—please—"
He finally stepped closer, and his voice dropped into a cold whisper.
"You believed I killed your best friend."
Tears blurred my vision. "I made a mistake—I’m sorry, Damien, I’m so sorry—"
"You believed I had an affair with her," he pressed.
"No," I cried. "I was confused—he tricked —"
"And you stabbed , Sofia."
I froze.
His voice didn’t break.
His expression didn’t change.
He just said it... flatly.
Like he was listing facts.
"If you could believe sothing that horrible..." he said quietly, "then you don’t know ."
My breath shattered. "Damien—please—"
"And if you could stab that easily..."
His eyes narrowed, full of pain.
"...then you don’t love ."
The words slamd into like a physical blow.
"Damien, don’t say that," I begged. "Please, don’t—"
He stepped back, as if my presence burned him.
"There is nothing left," he said firmly. "Nothing between us except co-parenting."
My knees buckled. "No. Damien, please—please, I love you—"
"Stop." His voice snapped like ice. "Don’t use that word."
I reached for him.
He stepped away again.
"Damien, forgive ," I cried. "Please. I’ll do anything. I’ll prove—"
"You can’t," he said simply.
My heart stopped.
He pointed toward the door.
"Please leave my room."
I shook my head, tears falling uncontrollably. "Damien, don’t do this—please, don’t push away—"
"I need privacy," he said coldly. "Please leave."
I stumbled backward, unable to breathe, unable to think.
He turned his back to again—the sa way he did in the basent—and this ti the ssage was clear:
I ant nothing to him.
Not anymore.
I stood in the doorway, broken, shaking, destroyed.
"Damien..." I whispered one last ti.
He didn’t turn.
He didn’t respond.
He didn’t even move.
So I left.
I walked out of Damien’s room like a ghost.
My legs didn’t feel like my legs. My chest hurt. My eyes were burning. My throat felt tight, like soone tied a rope around it.
I went straight to my room. I closed the door. Then I fell on the floor and cried into my palms.
Big tears. Hot tears. Tears that ca from my heart, not my eyes.
"Damien hates ," I whispered. "He really hates ."
My whole body shook.
I cried until my throat hurt, until no sound ca out again.
I wanted to stop, but my body wouldn’t listen.
After so minutes, sothing strange happened.
My head started spinning.
The room beca blurry. My ears rang. My chest felt heavy.
I grabbed the side of the bed and sat slowly.
"Why... why am I feeling like this?" I whispered.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself, but the dizziness didn’t stop.
Then another thought hit —a small thought...
a scary thought.
"When last did I see my monthly flow...?"
I froze.
My eyes widened.
I counted backward in my mind.
Last month?
The month before?
My heart dropped.
"No... no, no, no..." I whispered.
I stood up, shaking.
My hands trembled so much I almost fell again.
I opened the door and grabbed the first maid that walked by.
"Please," I said quickly. "Please get a test kit... quickly."
She blinked in confusion.
"A... a test kit, my lady?"
"Yes!" I almost shouted. "Please—run!"
She saw the panic in my eyes and hurried away.
I shut the door and paced the room. My stomach felt weak. My chest kept squeezing.
"Please no... not now..." I whispered.
Minutes later, there was a quick knock.
I rushed to the door.
The maid handed the small box.
"M-my lady, are you okay? Do you need the healer—?"
"I’m fine," I whispered, though I was not fine at all. "Thank you."
I locked the door again.
My hands were shaking so badly I almost dropped the kit.
I opened it.
Did the test.
Then I waited.
It felt like hours.
My heart was beating too fast, too loud.
When the result finally appeared...
My breath left my body.
Positive.
I stared at the test stick. Then at my stomach. Then back at the stick.
A small, broken sound left my throat.
"I’m pregnant..."
I covered my mouth as tears spilled again.
Not just crying—I cried like my soul broke in half.
"Damien won’t accept this," I choked out.
"He hates now... he hates ..."
I sat on the floor, hugging myself.
"He will think I’m lying.
He will think I’m trapping him.
He will think I’m doing it on purpose."
My voice cracked.
"He won’t want this baby..."
The pain stabbed deep. Too deep.
I wiped my face roughly and stood up.
"I have to leave," I whispered.
"I have to leave now.
Before he thinks I’m forcing myself on him again."
With shaking hands, I grabbed my bag.
I threw my clothes inside.
I packed everything.
Every second felt like a knife in my chest.
"I will raise this baby alone," I whispered to myself.
"I won’t let him hate the child.
I won’t let him call the baby a mistake."
More tears fell.
"I’ll leave before he knows."
I zipped the bag.
I walked to the door.
And with a trembling breath...
I stepped out, ready to disappear from Damien’s life again.
When I reached the front doors, two guards bowed quickly.
"My lady—"
"Please," I whispered, "get Damien’s driver. I need to go to the airport."
They froze for a second, confusion in their eyes.
But they obeyed.
The driver ca out almost imdiately. He looked surprised to see with a packed bag.
"My lady... you are leaving?"
"Yes," I said quietly. "Please take to the airport."
He hesitated.
Just a little.
Then he nodded. "As you wish."
He took my bag and placed it in the car trunk.
I climbed inside the back seat.
The door closed.
I leaned my head against the window and covered my mouth as another sob escaped.
"I’m sorry, baby," I whispered, touching my stomach.
"I’m so, so sorry."
The driver started the engine.
The car pulled away from the mansion slowly.
My tears fell silently as we moved farther and farther away.
Every turn of the car hurt.
Every second felt like I was ripping my heart into pieces.
I wiped my face again, trying to breathe.
Then—
"My lady?" the driver said suddenly.
I didn’t look up. "Please... don’t talk to right now."
"My lady..." he said again, louder this ti.
I sighed shakily and looked up through blurry eyes.
He pointed behind us.
"My lady... look behind you."
My heart skipped.
Slowly... scared... I turned my head and looked out the back window.
And then—
My breath stopped.
It was Damien.
He was running after the car.
His hair was ssy.
His shirt was soaked in sweat.
His chest was rising and falling hard.
His face—
His face was pure panic.
He wasn’t shouting.
He wasn’t slowing down.
He was chasing like his life depended on it.
My lips parted.
"D... Damien?" I whispered.
Reviews
All reviews (0)