Chapter 124

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a golden glow over the bedroom. Sophia stirred, her fingers brushing against the empty space beside her.

Liam had already left for school.

She sighed, rolling onto her back. The silence was deafening.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. A message from Daniel.

"Good morning. Just checking in."

A small smile tugged at her lips.

She typed back quickly. "Morning. All good here."

But was it?

The weight of everything pressed down on her. The divorce. The threats. The secrets.

She sat up, running a hand through her tangled hair.

Downstairs, the scent of coffee lingered in the air. Gabriella had left a fresh pot, along with a note.

"Liam ate breakfast. Have a good day."

Sophia poured herself a cup, the warmth seeping into her palms.

The doorbell rang.

She frowned. No one was supposed to come by.

Setting the mug down, she moved to the front door, peering through the peephole.

A deliveryman stood outside, holding a small package.

"Sophia Blackwood?"

She hesitated before opening the door. "Yes?"

"Sign here, please."

She scribbled her name, accepting the box. It was light, unmarked.

Closing the door, she turned it over in her hands. No return address.

Her pulse quickened.

Carefully, she peeled back the tape.

Inside, nestled in tissue paper, was a single black rose.

And a note.

"You can't hide forever."

Her breath hitched.

The coffee cup slipped from her grasp, shattering on the floor.

The game wasn't over.

And someone was still watching.

Damn it.

My fingers tangled in my hair as I watched her sleep. The dried tear stains on her cheeks shattered something inside me. Seeing her like this—so utterly broken—was unbearable.

Sophia had always been a master at masking her emotions. But today, she didn’t. And it was brutal. The pain was swallowing her whole, and without realizing it, she was dragging me down with her.

I sank into the chair beside her bed, my fingers threading through her silken hair, massaging her scalp with slow, soothing strokes.

How had I never noticed how soft her hair was?

It was like touching heaven.

A quiet sigh escaped her lips, her face softening as the tension melted away. In sleep, she found peace—no shadows haunting her, no ghosts of the past clawing at her.

I knew it was borderline obsessive, but watching her sleep had become my guilty pleasure. I did it yesterday. And here I was again.

She was breathtaking. Even with the dark circles beneath her eyes, she was radiant.

How the hell had I ever thought she couldn’t compare to Isabella?

I pressed a featherlight kiss to her cheek before forcing myself to stand. Every instinct screamed at me to climb into bed beside her, to pull her close and never let go.

But I didn’t.

This need—this aching need to hold her—was new. Back when we were married, I avoided her touch. Now? It was all I could think about.

With a growl of frustration, I tore myself away and walked out of her house. The cold night air hit me like a slap, but it did nothing to clear my head.

I should go back.

But I wouldn’t.

She might have accepted my comfort tonight, but that didn’t mean she’d forgiven me.

Hell, I hadn’t even asked for forgiveness yet.

I would. But not now. Not when she was still so fragile.

Pulling out my phone, I dialed Sebastian. He answered on the first ring.

"Meet me at the club," I said, then hung up.

I didn’t wait for a response. I knew he’d come.

One last glance at Sophia’s house, then I slid into my car and drove off.

Thirty minutes later, I was at Viper, my most exclusive club. The bouncer at the VIP entrance dipped his head in greeting.

"Sir."

I nodded curtly and strode inside.

The bass thrummed through my skull, the noise only amplifying my headache. The bouncer cleared a path, leading me to my private booth where the chaos dulled to a murmur.

My personal bartender appeared instantly, handing me a glass of bourbon—neat. He knew my drink just as well as he knew Sebastian’s and Nathan’s.

"You look like hell," Sebastian drawled, sliding into the seat across from me.

Three minutes younger than me, and yet he acted like he had decades of wisdom over me. Where I brooded, he thrived in the spotlight.

"Just peachy," I muttered, tipping the glass back.

But the alcohol did nothing to erase the image burned into my mind—Sophia standing on that cliff, so close to the edge.

That single step she took forward had nearly stopped my heart.

The fear that gripped me was unlike anything I’d ever felt. It was suffocating.

If I’d been even a second later…

I didn’t want to think about it.

But one thing was certain—if she had died today, my heart would have died with her.