Sofia's POV

Throughout the day, my mind wouldn't stop spinning. I couldn't think clearly. Every time I tried to breathe, my chest felt tight.

Damien had an affair with Rebecca.

He got her pregnant.

He killed her.

Those words kept echoing in my head like music. Each time I thought of them, it felt like my heart cracked a little more. I wanted to scream. I wanted to deny it. I wanted to believe the man I loved could never do something that cruel. But the more I thought about it, the more everything started to make sense.

The scarf in his storeroom.

The call.

The body exchange with Olivia.

All these were proof he did it.

Tears filled my eyes again as I sat by the window, staring out at the darkening sky. I had loved Damien with everything I had. I trusted him. I gave him my life. But now… now all I could feel was fear and disgust.

A soft knock pulled me from my thoughts.

"My lady," a maid said gently from the doorway. "Alpha Damien says dinner is ready."

I didn't want to go. My stomach felt like a knot. I didn't think I could swallow even a bite. But if I refused, it would only make him suspicious. He was already watching me too closely.

"I'll be there soon," I said quietly.

When I finally entered the dining room, the table was already set. Our son had gone to bed early, so it was just the two of us. The silence between us was thick, like the air before a storm.

Damien sat at the head of the table, dressed neatly as always. His face looked calm, but I could feel something dark behind his eyes.

I sat down across from him.

"Eat," he said softly, smiling. "You've hardly touched food all day."

I forced a small nod and picked up my fork. The smell of roasted meat filled the air, but I couldn't taste anything. I lifted a piece to my mouth and chewed, just to look normal. Every bite felt heavy, dry.

Damien watched me closely, his eyes never leaving my face.

"I got you something," he said suddenly.

My head lifted. "What?"

He reached under the table and pulled out a small box. "A gift," he said, smiling faintly.

My fingers trembled as I opened it. Inside was a delicate gold bracelet, shining under the candlelight. It was beautiful, simple but elegant. I should have loved it. But instead, I felt sick just looking at it.

"Do you like it?" he asked.

"It's beautiful," I said quietly. My voice didn't sound like my own.

He leaned back, still watching me. "You seem distant tonight," he said slowly. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

My heart jumped. I forced a smile and shook my head. "No. I'm just tired."

He nodded, but there was a flicker in his eyes—something I couldn't place. He leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table. "Sofia," he said calmly, "I know you have people watching me, looking into Rebecca's death."

My breath stopped. My hand froze on the table.

I stared at him, trying to hide my fear. "What are you talking about?" I whispered.

His eyes narrowed. "Don't play games with me," he said softly. "You think I don't notice when my own mate sends men to follow me?"

My heart was beating too fast. I wanted to speak, but my throat was dry.

He tilted his head slightly. "Tell me, Sofia. What do you think you'll find?"

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady. "So you know," I said quietly.

Something flickered in his eyes—pain, maybe anger. "Yes," he said. "I know. But I didn't think you'd actually believe those lies."

My chest burned. "Lies?" I whispered. "You call it lies?"

He looked at me sharply. "Whatever you've been told isn't true."

I laughed softly, but it came out broken. "Not true?" I said, shaking my head. "You had an affair with Rebecca. You got her pregnant. Then you killed her because she refused to get rid of the baby. And now you sit there and call it a lie?"

Damien's eyes darkened. He stood up slowly. "Is that what you think of me?" he asked, his voice pained. "That I'm a murderer? That I killed your best friend?"

Tears blurred my vision. "That's not what I think, Damien," I said. "That's what I know."

He slammed his hands on the table. The plates rattled. "Who told you that?" he shouted. "Your spies? Those filthy traitors?"

I stood too, my voice rising. "It doesn't matter who told me! I know the truth now. I know what you did!"

His expression twisted in anger. "You don't know anything, Sofia!"

"Oh, I know enough!" I snapped. "You cheated on me. You destroyed her life. You killed her. You took away her chance to be a mother. And for what? To protect your image? To keep your lies?"

"Stop it!" Damien yelled, his voice echoing off the walls.

I flinched, but I didn't stop. "You're a monster!" I screamed, tears streaming down my face. "I loved you, Damien! I trusted you with everything I had, and you killed her! You killed my best friend!"

For a second, he just stared at me. His chest rose and fell heavily. His eyes looked almost broken—almost.

Then he said quietly, "You'll regret saying that."

That was the moment something inside me snapped.

I reached for the knife beside my plate. My hand shook, but my anger guided it. All I could see was Rebecca's face—her innocent smile, her laughter, her kindness. All I could hear was that man's voice telling me what Damien did.

Before I even realized it, I had the knife in my hand.

Damien's eyes widened. "Sofia—"

But I didn't listen.

The pain, the anger, the betrayal—it all poured out at once.

I stepped forward and plunged the knife straight into his chest.

He gasped, his body jerking back. The sound of the blade sinking into him filled the air. His hands went to the wound, his eyes wide with shock and hurt.

The table shook. A plate fell and shattered on the floor.

I stumbled back, breathing hard, my hands trembling. The knife was red.

Damien looked at me, his lips parting as if to speak—but no words came.

And for a moment, time stopped.

All I could hear was the sound of my heartbeat and the blood rushing in my ears.

What had I done?

I had stabbed the man I once loved—the man I used to call my world.