Chapter 159

Sophia felt like she was dying from the excruciating pain.

What was supposed to be a casual encounter turned violent when Maxwell acted like he'd taken performance enhancers.

"Stop... It hurts... Please..."

Regret flooded her as she thought this might be her last moments alive.

"Problem? Isn't this exactly what you asked for?" Maxwell showed no mercy, convinced this lying woman deserved every bit of punishment.

Her weak struggles and head shakes meant nothing. "I changed my mind... Please stop..."

The alley remained deserted. Bar staff had seen their boss enter with a woman and wisely kept their distance.

Sophia's body burned with searing pain, feeling torn apart. She collapsed onto the cold pavement, curling into a fetal position.

Scattered banknotes glared against the dirty ground.

Tear-stained and smeared makeup covered her face as she peeled broken nails from the wall. Trembling hands collected each bill methodically.

One hour later.

A taxi carried her home.

Keys jingled in her shaking hands when the door suddenly swung open.

"Where the hell were you?" Victoria's shrill voice pierced the night. "Pregnant and roaming streets at this hour? Trying to kill the Kensington heir? How will you explain this to them?"

Sophia stared at her resurrected mother with dead eyes. "Thought you were six feet under."

Victoria gasped before exploding. "You ungrateful brat! Is that any way to greet your mother? What gave you that idea?"

"No calls. No texts. Might as well be dead." Sophia dropped her purse, kicking off heels. "Make me noodles. I'm starving."

Victoria's eyes locked on the stilettos. "Are you insane? Wearing these while pregnant—"

"Lost it. Miscarriage. Probably sterile now." Sophia stripped in the bathroom, recounting every brutal detail between curses.

Victoria's shock morphed into devastation.

She knew her daughter's history too well—first abortion at fourteen.

"You slept around while carrying Nathan's child? Believed some rich playboy would wife you up? Now you're barren! Who'll support you forever? Me?"

Every movement sent fire through Sophia's thighs. She longed to pass out, to escape into oblivion.

Then she saw the blood.

"Mom... I'm bleeding..." Her voice trembled with terror.

"What now?!" Victoria threw open the bathroom door.

"Jesus Christ! What did you do?!"

Sophia sobbed out the alley horror story.

"He... He seemed decent. Wealthy. Handsome..."

Victoria's shaking fingers dialed 911.

After the call, she hurled her phone, screaming, "Men aren't worth dying over! Where's your self-respect?"

"Should I slit my wrists then?" Sophia sneered. "Pot calling kettle black! You screwed married men at the Sinclairs' and got beaten for it!"

Victoria froze—she hadn't known her daughter knew.

"At least my men are richer than your backwater losers!" Sophia unleashed months of pent-up rage.

Across town...

Alexander approached Evelyn after his shower, patting his sister's damp hair. "Bedtime. You've been good."

"Okay." Isabella behaved unusually well that evening.

The boy glanced up shyly. "Aunt Evelyn... You'll still be here tomorrow, right?"

Evelyn felt Dominic's intense gaze without looking. She longed to stay with the children—with his permission.

Otherwise, she'd have to sneak visits before elementary school started.

"Promise." She ruffled his hair.

"Night, Aunt Evelyn!" Alexander planted a kiss before scampering off.

Isabella clung to her like a koala, demanding to share a bed. Despite Dominic's presence, Evelyn agreed.

"The kid bed's too small," Dominic stated. "You'll use my room."

Evelyn nodded—Isabella's bed barely fit the child herself.

He handed her a shirt and sweatpants. "Change after showering."

"Thanks." Gratitude flooded her—for the clothes, for sharing the bed, for him sacrificing his comfort.

'His tall frame will be miserable in that tiny bed...' she thought.

Post-shower with semi-dry hair, Evelyn sorted laundry. Whites first, then darks.

The dryer hummed as she hung everything in the living room, hyperaware of Dominic's silent presence.

"I'll steam these tomorrow," she murmured, avoiding his gaze.

"Sleep now." His deep voice rumbled.

"Goodnight..." Her fingers lingered on his shirt before retreating.

Dominic watched her enter his room.

His oversized clothes draped her slender frame beautifully, pale neck peeking from the collar.

The door clicked shut.

Isabella fought sleep in the large bed, nuzzling Evelyn's chest. "You came back..."

Just as Evelyn cuddled her, the door opened.

Dominic entered in dark silk pajamas, his muscular silhouette outlined as he killed the lights. Without ceremony, he claimed the window-side of the bed.

Evelyn froze.