Chapter 123: Chapter 123 I Am Not Going Anywhere
SOPHIA’S POV
I should have left. I Should have walked out of Stone Villa the mont I realized what was happening but sothing kept
rooted to my hiding spot.
Damien was still in the guest room with Tiffany, and I heard him say sothing that made her laugh.
"You don’t need to thank
for every little thing," Damien said. "You’re too polite sotis."
"I can’t help it," Tiffany replied. "You’ve done so much for us. I just want you to know I appreciate it."
"I know you do." There was a pause, and then I heard movent. "Co here."
My wolf whimpered as I watched Damien pull Tiffany into his arms. It wasn’t sexual. It was just a gentle embrace. His chin rested on top of her head then her arms wrapped around his waist.
It was the kind of intimacy I’d never had with him.
Tiffany pulled back slightly, looking up at Damien with a soft smile. "You’re too good to ."
"Impossible," he murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I could never be good enough for you."
The tenderness in his voice made sothing crack inside my chest. He’d never spoken to
like that. He’d never looked at
with that kind of adoration.
I’d been his wife for years, bore his child, nearly died in the process yet he’d never once looked at
the way he was looking at her right now.
From the kitchen, I heard Ashley’s voice. "Tasha’s soup is so good! Can we have it every day?"
I rembered the countless hours I’d spent learning to cook Ashley’s favorite als, the recipe books I’d studied, the cooking classes I’d taken, all to make sure my daughter had nutritious, delicious food.
And she’d never once praised my cooking the way she was praising Tiffany’s mother’s.
In fact, I rembered Ashley complaining about my family’s cooking when I’d taken her to Sky Manor. She’d called it "weird" and said she preferred "normal food." But here she was, raving about Tasha’s soup like it was the most amazing thing she’d ever tasted.
My mind flashed to all the tis I’d tried to introduce Ashley to my family, how she’d refused to call my parents "Grandma" and "Grandpa," insisted on calling them by their first nas when she acknowledged them at all, how she’d criticized Klara’s appearance
But Tasha? Tasha she loved. Tasha she wanted to spend ti with. Tasha whose cooking she praised.
Because Tasha was Tiffany’s mother and anything connected to Tiffany was automatically good in Ashley’s eyes.
While anything connected to
was automatically bad.
The realization hit
hard. My own daughter had been systematically trained - intentionally or not - to reject
and everything associated with
while embracing Tiffany and her family.
And Damien had allowed it. He had encouraged it. He had brought Tiffany’s mother into our ho, let her cook for our daughter, let Ashley bond with her while keeping my family at arm’s length.
Damien had never visited my parents, not once in all our years of marriage. He’d never acknowledged them at pack functions, never invited them to Stone Villa for holidays, never treated them as family.
But Tiffany’s mother? She got to live here, got to be called family.
Another thought hit , making my stomach turn. Damien’s call this afternoon, asking
to pick up Ashley and bring her to George’s house. He’d said George wanted to see her, that it was important.
But it wasn’t really about George at all, was it?
It was about getting
out of the way.
Getting Ashley away from the villa so Damien could have ti alone with Tiffany and her mother. So they could play house together without
interfering.
He’d used his grandfather as an excuse to manipulate
into removing myself and Ashley from the picture.
And I’d fallen for it completely.
The betrayal cut deeper than anything else. Not just the affair, not just the replacent but the calculated manipulation.
I couldn’t breathe. The walls of Stone Villa were closing in on .
I turned and walked out of the house as quietly as I’d entered. Nobody noticed
leave. Nobody ever noticed
anymore.
The drive back to Sky Manor was a blur. I don’t rember getting in the car, don’t rember navigating the roads. My wolf was in too much pain, and my human side was too numb to process anything.
When I walked through the door of Sky Manor, my mother took one look at my face and pulled
into her arms without asking questions.
"Oh, my baby girl," she murmured, stroking my hair like she had when I was little. "What did he do now?"
"Everything," I whispered. "He did everything."
I spent that night lying awake in my childhood bedroom, staring at the ceiling, replaying every mont - Damien and Tiffany’s embrace. Ashley’s joy at seeing Tasha. The casual way my daughter had declared Tiffany’s family as her family while rejecting mine.
I couldn’t sleep that night.
The next morning, I woke to Klara bouncing on my bed.
"Aunt Sophia! Aunt Sophia! There’s a huge package for you outside!"
I groaned, pulling the pillow over my head. "Tell whoever it is to take it back."
"But it’s already here! And it’s really, really big! Like bigger than !"
That got my attention. I dragged myself out of bed and followed Klara downstairs.
There was a huge box on the front porch. It was wrapped in expensive-looking paper with a giant silver bow on top.
"Who would send sothing like this?" my mother asked, appearing behind .
I already knew. The handwriting on the card attached to the bow was familiar.
For the world’s best body pillow. Since you wouldn’t keep mine. -Z
"It’s from Zade," I said flatly.
"Who’s Zade?" Klara asked, already trying to tear into the wrapping paper.
"Nobody important." I moved to stop her. "Klara, don’t-"
But she’d already ripped off enough paper to reveal what was inside: a giant plush toy. Not just any plush toy. It was custom-made, easily six feet tall, shaped like a wolf with soft gray fur and amber eyes that looked like Zade’s wolf form.
"It’s so fluffy!" Klara squealed, hugging it.
"Klara, we can’t keep this. I need to-" I looked around for the delivery person, but their truck was already pulling away. "Damn it."
"Language," my mother teased.
"Sorry. But I need to return this. I told Zade to stop sending
things."
I went out for privacy pulled out my phone to call the delivery company, but before I could dial, a familiar voice behind
said, "I wouldn’t bother. I paid extra to make sure they wouldn’t take returns."
I spun around to find Zade leaning against a car parked across the street, looking far too pleased with himself.
"You," I said. "What are you doing here?"
"Making sure my gift was delivered safely." He pushed off the car and walked toward . "Do you like it? I had it custom-made to my exact specifications."
"I don’t want it. I don’t want any of your gifts. How many tis do I have to tell you to leave
alone?"
"You can tell
as many tis as you want." Zade stopped a few feet away, looking at . "I’m not going anywhere."
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