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.

only one way

it up and

rang twice before

my voice low but

came back, respectful. "No, Alpha.

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

But whoever covered this up did

my eyes, my wolf growling in the back of my skull. "Try harder," I snapped. "I don’t care what it takes. Find me answers. Find me proof. I want to know who killed Rebecca. I want

said

The line went dead.

silent phone for a long time, my jaw locked, my breath

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

maybe, just maybe, she’d let me

back down and leaned back in my chair,

the door

blazing, her chest heaving. In her hands was a piece of faded fabric, but I recognized the initials stitched at the edge

a weapon. "Why the hell was this in the

brows pulled tight as I pushed away from the

know," she snapped, stepping closer. The cloth trembled in her hands as her voice rose. "Her things—her scent—hidden there

shook my head slowly. "Sofia... I have no idea. Maybe she left it here during her last visit.

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

my voice low, controlled, though my fists

worse than grief. It was jealousy, suspicion,

blade. "Were you and Rebecca fucking back then?" she spat. "When I left three years ago, did you