Fated To Not Just One, But Three

Chapter 422: Suspect

Damien’s POV

The slam of the door echoed in my office long after Sofia left.

I stood there, fists clenched, staring at the empty space she had filled just moments ago. Her scent still lingered in the room, sharp and sweet, pulling at every part of me that I tried to keep under control.

My chest heaved. My wolf paced violently inside me, restless and angry.

"She’s lying," I muttered to myself, dragging a hand through my hair. "She still loves me."

I had seen it in her eyes. I felt it in the way her body had trembled against mine. The way she broke when she said this would never happen again. Those weren’t the words of a woman who felt nothing.

No. She was hiding something. Something deeper than just anger or pride.

I turned to the desk and slammed both palms against it, the wood groaning under the force. My eyes burned as Rebecca’s name crossed my mind.

Does Sofia still blame me for her death?

She hasn’t spoken of Rebecca’s death since she returned, but I could feel it in my bones... the way she looked at me, like I was more monster than man. Even in her silence, I knew—she still suspected me of Rebecca’s death.

A growl ripped from my throat as I paced the room. "I didn’t kill her," I snarled into the empty air. "But how the hell do I prove it to you, Sofia?" Every time I tried to pull her closer, she pushed me further away. Every time she let me touch her, she turned around and cut me with her words.

And still—I couldn’t let her go.

My wolf howled her name in my chest, demanding we claim her, mark her, bind her once and for all. But I couldn’t—not while she looked at me with those eyes, full of doubt, full of suspicion.

was only one way to fix this. Only one way to rip out

picked it up and

twice before a voice answered. "Alpha

voice low but sharp. "Any

back, respectful. "No, Alpha. Nothing concrete yet. No

curled tight around the phone. "It’s been two fucking months," I spat. "Two. And you’re telling me

whoever covered

harder," I snapped. "I don’t care what it takes. Find me answers. Find me

he said quickly. "I’ll

The line went dead.

for a long time,

this mystery was solved—if I could drag the truth into the light—Sofia would stop

she’d let me hold her without

in my chair, staring at

the door

piece of faded fabric, but I recognized the initials stitched at the edge before she

a weapon. "Why the hell was this in the storehouse?" she demanded, her voice shaking

as I pushed away from the

in her hands as

she left it here during her last visit. Years

laugh was sharp, bitter. "Lie," she hissed. "That’s all

inside me, stung by her words. "I’m not lying," I bit out, my voice low, controlled, though my fists itched to slam against the desk again. "I

with something worse than grief. It was jealousy, suspicion, betrayal

spat. "When I left three years ago, did you two have an affair? She came back, didn’t