Second Chance At Love

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?” Material © of NôvelDrama.Org.

The hand around her throat tightened. So, fear of her death was what flickered behind his cold exterior. Well, that made things easier. She couldn’t control anything else, but at least she could hold the reins on her own worthless life.

Jason stared 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 family, and all past grievances are settled.”

Camila’s initial excitement at his first half of the speech curdled into a grimace at his last sentence. What was this boy playing at? Was he using divorce as a shield from prison time? “Absolutely not! This woman poisoned Alison! She needs to be punished!”

Jason shot her a cold, hostile glare. “This is an order, not a request for your approval.”

“You…” Camila sputtered, her body trembling with rage. But a sly thought slithered into her mind. Getting rid of that woman with a divorce wasn’t the worst outcome. As long as she was out, it worked. “Are you sure about the divorce?”

Jason glanced back at his wife, her 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 she’s been craving?” he thought cynically. ‘Let her enjoy that smug satisfaction for now. Even divorced, she won’t slip out of my grasp that easily.

“Steward,” he commanded, “arrange for the lawyer to be at the mansion first thing tomorrow morning to handle the necessary paperwork”

Relief washed over Camila’s face. When the steward confirmed, she barked at the surrounding bodyguards, “Escort this woman off the Wilson property.”

Jason frowned, his gaze snagging on the blood staining his wife’s chin. Throwing Sophia out like trash in the dead of night wouldn’t do. She’d freeze to death. The mere thought of it sent a

suffocating tightness to his chest. “Hold on,” he interjected. “There’s paperwork tomorrow. She can stay one more night.”

Camila opened her mouth to argue, but Jason cut her off. “Aaron,” he addressed another guard, “Take Sophia back to my room,”

Sophia watched as the mother and son exchanged words, a bittersweet laugh bubbling up inside her. After four years of marriage, she was battered and broken, while he was about to have a child with his first love. This gamble had cost her everything.

Later that night.

After soaking in a hot bath for an hour, the chill finally started to fade. Sophia dressed and walked out, the silence of the room setting around her. Sitting by the bed, her eyes fell on the closed nightstand drawer. A memory sparked. She strode over, flipped open the drawer, and retrieved the velvet box nestled inside. It held a men’s ring. The marriage was over. Yet, he clung to the ring, a cold, metallic reminder of her

folly.

Just as she raised her hand, a stern voice suddenly came from the door, “What are you doing? Put it down immediately”