The Man Who Destroyed Me Is Now Begging to Mend Me 48

Chapter 48

Sophia spun around. There he was, David Evans, standing like a general surveying his troops, Emily clinging to his arm, the rest of the Evans family arrayed behind him like loyal soldiers.

The irony was a bitter pill. Moments ago, when she was the target of the crowd’s venom, he had been conspicuously silent. Now, he was the Westwoods‘ self–appointed avenger.

Their eyes locked across the room. David’s face contorted with irritation. “Do you have any idea what kind of occasion this is?” he sneered. “And you brought your little attack dog here to humiliate us all? You’re an embarrassment to the Evans

name.”

The loathing radiating off him was almost physical. This wasn’t just brotherly irritation. This was the kind of hatred reserved for a mortal enemy.

For three long years, Sophia had endured this. The contempt, the impatience, the constant feeling of being an outsider desperately trying to earn a place in a family that only tolerated her.

They had taken her kindness and repaid it with secret mockery, accusing her of never being sincere enough.

She was numb to their indifference. But David didn’t get to come for Annabelle. Annabelle had been her only real friend in this snake pit. Annabelle’s family had shown her a kindness she could never repay. She would not stand for this.

Sophia stepped in front of Annabelle like a shield, her voice dropping to ice. “Apologize to Annabelle. Now.”

David’s eyebrows shot up. “I’m sorry, what? Apologize to that orphaned guttersnipe? Have you lost your damn mind?”

“At least bastards with parents have an excuse for being raised wrong,” Sophia fired back without missing a beat.

There was a time she’d actually looked up to this asshole. Thought his cruel comments were just big brother toughness. Now she saw him for what he really was, a spoiled little boy playing dress–up in his father’s expensive suits.

David’s face went purple. He never expected the quiet, compliant Sophia to talk back like this.

“Sophia, I am your brother!” he hissed, the words cold and venomous. “How dare you? Fine. I’ll teach you some respect in front of everyone.” He rolled up his sleeves and started toward her, his intent clear.

Sophia was still wearing the hospital gown she’d snuck out in. She had rushed here the moment she heard about Annabelle’s reckless charge into the lion’s den. No one seemed to care that she could barely stand.

David charged like a bull. She crashed to the floor, the impact knocking the air from her lungs. Before she could even process the fall, his foot connected with her side.

Annabelle’s bodyguards, stationed too far away, were caught completely off guard by the public ferocity of the attack. By the time they surged forward, David had already landed several vicious blows.

His eyes were dark pits of manic fury, as if all his pent–up resentment had finally found a release. He kept kicking, aiming with cruel precision at her abdomen, each strike punctuated by a guttural stream of filth.

“You think you’re so high and mighty now that you’re a Westwood?” he spat, venom dripping from every word. “You dare curse me? Don’t forget, you’re living this lavish life off our family’s goodwill. Biting the hand that feeds you? You ungrateful

little slut!”

There was no brotherly love in his voice, only pure, unadulterated hatred.

“Stop!” Annabelle threw herself at him, but David backhanded her without breaking rhythm. Her head cracked against the

1/2

edge of a party table, the sound sickeningly wet. “I said STOP!”

roucher

But David was on a roll now, years of resentment pouring out like poison. “We should’ve left you in that gutter! The minute you walked through our door, everything went to hell.”

“Emily left because of you. And you’ve had the fucking nerve to act like we owe you something for three goddamn years!”

His foot connected with her stomach, and Sophia’s world went white–hot with pain. “You should’ve died out there, Sophia. Would’ve done us all a favor.”

She curled into herself, arms protecting her head, trying to disappear into the floor. Around them, the cream of high society watched like it was dinner theater.

admin