Chapter 89

The flimsy paper felt like a dagger when it slapped against Sophia’s cheek. Her eyes darted down to the scattered pages–the so–called “Investigation results.” A bitter laugh escaped her lips. Two days ago, she’d secretly booked an appointment with a private doctor. The plan? To terminate the pregnancy, then strategically drop the bombshell on Jason, dealing him the ultimate blow. But Ada, that viper, had exploited the loophole. The report now labeled the doctor a “perfumer skilled in concocting poisonous mists.” There was no way to clear her

name.

Jason, convinced of her guilt in Alison’s poisoning, had locked onto this “evidence.” But explaining the truth wouldn’t matter. He wouldn’t listen anyway. “You already think I poisoned Alison. What’s the point of denying it? Fine, have it your way. I confess”

Jason’s hand shot out, seizing her by the throat, his face darkening with a chilling intensity that radiated from his eyes. Sophia’s throat.row from the earlier struggle, ripped open again, sending a fresh wave of crimson cascading down her chin. The sight sent Jason’s pupils reeling “What’s… what’s wrong with you?”

His fleeting panic ignited a spark in Sophia’s once–dead eyes. This man, a walking contradiction–ruthless one moment, inexplicably worried the next. “If I told you I’m dying,” she rasped, “would you still throw me in prison?”

death was what flickered behind his cold exterior. Well, that made things easier. She couldn’t control anything else, but at least

at her, his jaw clenched and brow furrowed. “If you breathe another word about ‘death, I’ll break your damn legs Abruptly, he released her, stalking towards the sofa area. “Sophia Taylor,” he declared, his voice laced with disgust, “has proven herself devoid of human decency. Scheming to poison Alison, she’s unfit for any position in this house. I’m calling a lawyer tomorrow to start divorce proceedings. As of today, she is no longer a member of the Wilson

last sentence. What was this boy playing at? Was he using divorce as a shield

a cold, hostile glare. “This is an order, not a request

rid of that woman with a divorce wasn’t the worst outcome. As long as she was

face a blank canvas. No flicker of emotion betrayed her feelings about his proposal. A knot of dread tightened in his gut. ‘Did I just hand her the divorce

“arrange for the lawyer to be at the mansion first thing tomorrow morning

over Camila’s face. When the steward confirmed, she barked at the

night wouldn’t do. She’d freeze to death. The

her off. “Aaron,” he addressed another guard, “Take Sophia

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