Chapter 47

"What the hell happened to you?" Sebastian asks, eyeing the ice pack pressed against my jaw.

"Daniel," I grunt, not in the mood for my brother's interrogation.

Fuck. I still can't believe I let that bastard get under my skin. But his words—his fucking arrogance—had been the last straw.

"The cop?" Sebastian raises a brow. "Sophia's new guy?"

At that, I snap. I hurl the ice pack across the room, watching it shatter against the wall.

"He's not her fucking guy," I snarl, surging to my feet.

My emotions are raw, too close to the surface. How can Sophia not see through him? The man reeks of deception.

I've dug into his background, but everything checks out—on paper. Yet my gut screams that something's off. He's hiding something. And my instincts have never been wrong.

"From what I hear, he is," Sebastian muses. "So what happened?"

I drag in a breath, trying to smother the fire in my veins.

"We were helping Sophia move into her new place. He told me to back off. Said she was his and he wouldn't let me ruin things."

Sebastian stares at me like I've lost my mind.

"Seriously? That's what set you off?"

"Yes!"

He sighs, dropping onto the couch. "In case you forgot, she's not your wife anymore. And if they're dating, he has every right to ask you to step back. Sound familiar? Wasn’t that exactly what you demanded of Sophia when you started seeing Isabella?"

I clench my fists. Why does no one else see it?

"This isn’t about that," I seethe. "There’s something wrong with him. Why can’t you see it?"

I pace my office, fury boiling beneath my skin. First, I find out Isabella threatened Liam and Nathan did nothing. Then I have to watch Sophia and Daniel making heart eyes at each other like lovesick fools.

She’s completely under his spell. The woman who questions everything just let him waltz into her life without a second thought.

"What are you talking about?" Sebastian asks, watching me closely.

I can’t stop moving. Sitting still is impossible with this storm inside me.

"I can’t explain it, but I don’t trust him. Something’s off."

It makes no logical sense, but I can’t shake the feeling. That’s why I’ve got my investigator digging deeper.

Sebastian stays silent for a long moment before speaking again—and I nearly punch him for it.

"Could it be you’re just jealous?"

"Fuck no," I roar. "Why the hell would I be jealous? I don’t have feelings for Sophia. Remember?"

The idea is absurd. Jealousy has nothing to do with this. She’s Liam’s mother, and I’m protecting him. That’s all.

"Look, you were married to her for nine years. It’s hard to spend that much time with someone and not feel something. Especially someone who isn’t actually a monster."

I stare at him, stunned, before shaking my head. "There’s no way. I stayed with her for Liam. My heart has always belonged to Isabella, and you know that. That’s why I never let myself feel anything for Sophia."

He’s lost his damn mind. People stay in loveless marriages all the time. Nine years didn’t change the fact that I never wanted her—not after what she did to trap me.

"Then explain why you care so much about her dating Daniel," he presses.

"I already told you! I wouldn’t give a damn if it were anyone else, but that cop is shady as hell."

We’re going in circles, and it’s only fueling my rage. I thought Sebastian, of all people, would understand. Instead, he’s spinning this into some delusion that I’m secretly pining for Sophia.

"I’ll admit what Sophia did nine years ago was wrong. We treated her like shit for it. But what if she wasn’t lying about being drunk? What if she was telling the truth?"

"Impossible."

"Is it? We all wanted you with Isabella—everyone except Sophia. After that night, we needed someone to blame. It was easier to vilify the girl who’d been obsessed with you for years than admit you both screwed up."

I freeze, staring at him. What the hell has gotten into him?

He pulls out his phone and dials a number.

"What are you doing?" I demand.

"Something we should’ve done a long time ago. I’m getting the truth about that night."

We wait in tense silence until someone answers. Sebastian orders footage from the bar and the hotel, demanding it within the hour.

After he hangs up, I scoff. "What’s the point of dredging this up? We know what happened."

"Besides the truth? Clarity. I think you’ve felt something for Sophia for years. Your anger over what you think was her betrayal has blinded you." His gray eyes—so like mine—lock onto me, daring me to argue.

I turn away, dropping into my chair. I won’t let him see how much this rattles me.

We sit in silence until his phone pings. His face shifts from shock to horror.

"Sebastian?" I say cautiously.

He looks up, haunted, and hands me his phone. My hands shake as I take it, already dreading what I’ll see.

The video plays. The truth I’ve clung to for nine years crumbles before my eyes.

Sophia had been telling the truth. We were both drunk.

For nearly a decade, she’s carried the blame for something that wasn’t her fault.

"Fuck!" I shout, the weight of it crushing me.