4. THE ENEMY'S HANDS

SOPHIA

The words barely left my lips before Victor’s expression hardened, confusion and anger flickering in his eyes. He turned to Isabella, his sharp gaze cutting through the air.

“Is it true?” His voice was low, tense. “And we’ve been together for a week. Why didn’t you think it was important to inform me that I am a married man?”

Isabella hesitated, her lips parting as if searching for the perfect excuse. Finally, she spoke, her voice trembling just enough to sound genuine.

“I’m sorry, Victor,” she said softly. “We went on that trip to help you heal. You were learning to walk again. I just didn’t think it was the right time.”

Victor scoffed, disbelief etched into his features. Without another word, he turned on his heel and began walking away.

“Wait, Victor!” I called after him, my voice breaking as I tried to mask the pain swelling in my chest. My heart shattered with each step he took, but I couldn’t let him leave without hearing me out. As much as it hurt to think of him spending the past week with Isabella, I refused to let her steal my truth.

He paused but didn’t turn around.

I swallowed hard, willing my voice to stay steady. “I need to explain some things to you,” I said, my words barely above a whisper.

He nodded, still facing away. “Okay, but not now. I need to be alone.” And with that, he walked into the house, leaving me standing there with Isabella.

My fists clenched at my sides, my nails digging into my palms. The sharp ache of his indifference was almost unbearable, cutting deeper than any insult. Before I could move, Isabella’s hand clamped around my arm, her nails biting into my skin.

She spun me around to face her, her eyes blazing with triumph. “Don’t even think for a second that you belong in his life,” she sneered. Her words were sharp, dripping with venom. “Victor doesn’t need you. He never did. He’s mine, and he always will be.”

I wrenched my arm free, glaring at her. “He’s my husband,” I said through gritted teeth, though my voice trembled under the weight of my emotions.

She let out a cruel laugh, the sound echoing in my ears like nails on a chalkboard. “Your husband?” she mocked. “Do you even know what we’ve been through together? How many nights we’ve spent in each other’s arms? How many times he’s made love to me this past week alone?”

Her words hit me like a physical blow. My chest tightened, each breath coming harder than the last. Images I didn’t want to imagine flashed through my mind, unbidden. I struggled to push them away, but her words rooted themselves in my heart, planting seeds of despair.

“You’re nothing, Sophia,” she said, her voice dropping to a cruel whisper. “A useless, pathetic girl who doesn’t deserve a man like Victor.”

The pain was unbearable. I couldn’t stand there another second. Turning away, I walked toward the pool, my legs heavy as if dragging the weight of her words with me. When I reached the edge, I sank down, my knees pulled to my chest. The sunlight glimmered off the water, its calm, undisturbed surface mocking the storm inside me.

Tears slid down my cheeks, unbidden. I tried to hold them back, but the dam had broken. Each tear carried the weight of Victor’s rejection, Isabella’s lies, and my own helplessness. I hugged my knees tighter, letting the tears fall freely as the pain overwhelmed me.

I don’t know how long I sat there, staring into the water as if it held answers to questions I couldn’t even articulate. Eventually, I stood, ready to return inside and face whatever came next. But before I turned, a sudden force shoved me from behind.

I screamed as I plunged into the icy water. The cold hit me like a wall, shocking my system. Panic set in almost immediately. I flailed, desperate to reach the surface, but my limbs felt like lead. Water filled my lungs, burning and suffocating me all at once. I tried to scream, but only bubbles escaped, rising to the surface that felt impossibly far away.

The more I struggled, the more the water seemed to pull me down, its cold embrace tightening around me like a vice. My lungs screamed for air, my vision blurred, and my body grew heavier with each passing second. I fought until my strength gave out, the world around me fading into darkness.

And then, just as I was slipping into unconsciousness, I felt a strong grip pulling me upward. The pressure of the water released, and I broke through the surface, gasping for air. My body was dragged to the edge of the pool, and I collapsed onto the hard ground. I coughed violently, water spilling from my mouth as I fought to breathe again.

Someone pressed on my chest, firm and rhythmic, forcing air back into my lungs. Slowly, my breathing steadied, though my body trembled from the cold and the shock. My eyes fluttered open, and the blurry world around me began to sharpen.

The man hovering over me wasn’t Victor. He wasn’t one of the bodyguards, either.

My heart froze as recognition set in.

It was Lucas Sinclair.