The Man Who Destroyed Me Is Now Begging to Mend Me 50

Hearing Annabelle drag David into this, Charles and Margaret, who had been silent observers until now, finally stepped

forward.

Margaret Evans sniffed. “David was disciplining his sister. Families argue, hardly a federal case, Ms. Quinn. Choose your next words carefully.”

Charles lifted both hands, oil–smooth. “Let’s not overreact, Officer. We’ll handle this in–house. No need for paperwork.”

Annabelle’s laugh cracked like a whip. “In–house? David assaulted her. You don’t bury that under Thanksgiving dinner. She turned to the cops. “I want a full medical exam. Document every injury.”

The Evans family went stone–faced. David’s stare turned venomous. “Keep my name out of your mouth, Annabelle. Push me and you’ll find out how creative I can get.”

Annabelle turned wide, urgent eyes to the officers. “Did you catch that, Sergeant? Threatening a witness in front of two officers. Still think he’s innocent?”

The cops exchanged uneasy looks.

Emily quickly slid in front of David, her tears appearing on cue. “Ms. Quinn, how can you tell such lies about my brother? He’s a good man!”

Margaret couldn’t bear to see Emily treated unfairly, and she knew dragging this out would only hurt the Evans family.

She let out a soft sigh, her voice suddenly softer than anything Sophia had heard in three years. “Sophie, sweetheart, I know you’re hurting, but dragging David through the mud won’t heal you. Everything he did was to protect you.”

“Protect me?” Sophia’s laugh cracked like a whip. “He protected me by beating me into a concussion. You all watched like it was Netflix. Now that the cops are here, I’m suddenly the ungrateful brat?”

Charles knew, with cold certainty, that David could not be arrested. If he were, the Evans Group shares would tank by the time the market opened.

They were fighting for a crucial project. No way in hell he’d let one stray daughter crater a ten–billion–dollar empire.

“Sophia,” he crooned, stepping closer, palms open like he was calming a spooked horse, “we’re blood. Let’s not air our laundry in front of strangers.”

David burned with shame and rage. “Sophia! You love this, don’t you? Watching Mom and Dad lower themselves for you? I always knew you were a snake that never should’ve been brought into this house. You’re here to burn everything down.”

Three years ago, those words would have shredded Sophia. Tonight, they just bounced off the armor of pure fatigue. She let her eyes fall shut and sagged into Annabelle. “Annabelle, get me out of here. I’m done with this circus.”

Seeing Sophia drenched in sweat, her hospital gown clinging to her, Annabelle’s heart broke. “Okay, let’s get you out of here.”

But as she helped Sophia up, Emily spoke again, her voice slick with fake concern. “Officers, Sophia can’t leave. She assaulted Lucas. Even if she’s my sister, the law’s the law. Arrest her.”

Annabelle blinked, stunned by the sheer audacity. So even though Sophia was letting David slide, Emily was going for the throat. ‘My god, she’s ruthless!

The officer nodded reluctantly. “Then, Sophia Evans, you’ll need to come with us for questioning.”

Sophia met Emily’s stare, saw the calculation glittering behind the fake concern, and a thin, lethal smile curved her lips.

Emily wanted it all. She wanted to keep the Evans family’s love and suck up to the Westwoods. She was playing all sides, desperate to look like the good girl, totally confident her two–faced game wouldn’t blow up in her face.

Fine. Sophia thought. If that’s how she wants to play, I’m done holding back. Let’s see what Emily cared about more. Her picture–perfect romance, or her spot in the family

“Alright, Officer, I’ll go.” Sophia said, her voice faint but clear. “But before the station, take me to the hospital. I need a full medical exam. I’m pressing charges against David for assault.”

The blood drained from Charles and Margaret’s faces. Emily stood frozen, completely speechless.

Sophia was rushed to the hospital by the police for a medical exam. A miscarriage, a ruptured spleen, ribs the color of storm clouds, her body was a crime scene that kept on giving.

When the medical report landed in the officers‘ hands, they exchanged stunned looks. “Are we sure Sophia is actually David’s sister?” one of them muttered, disbelief heavy in his voice.

Annabelle had stayed with Sophia the whole time, crying until her eyes were swollen and red. When the nurse lifted Sophia’s hospital gown, her stomach was a canvas of dark, vicious bruises. And she’d just lost a baby.

Annabelle let out a cold, bitter laugh. “Who knows? You’d think she was his mortal enemy.”

Sophia’s injuries were severe enough to require immediate hospitalization. After taking her initial statement, the officers instructed her to remain in Jelasburg for follow–up questions before leaving.

The second the door clicked shut, Sophia crashed. Annabelle camped in the plastic visitor chair, forehead stitched, guilt doing cartwheels in her skull.

She was replaying the moment she’d kicked open Helen’s ballroom doors. ‘If only I hadn’t… None of this would have happened. Sophie wouldn’t be lying here, shattered.‘

Tears slipped silently down Annabelle’s face. She was so lost in regret that she didn’t notice, until a cool, faint touch brushed

them away.

“Sophie?” Annabelle jerked upright. “You’re awake! Are you in pain? Should I call the doctor?”

Sophia shook her head weakly and squeezed Annabelle’s hand. Her voice was barely a whisper. “Annabelle… don’t blame yourself.”

That gentle forgiveness shattered whatever was left of Annabelle’s composure. A choked sob broke free. “I’m so sorry, Sophie! This is all my fault. I got you hurt…”

Sophia’s thumb brushed softly over her friend’s wet cheek. “It’s not your fault. David never needs a reason to hit me.”

Truth was, Annabelle’s bodyguards had reacted fast. They’d pulled David off quickly. But every kick he’d landed had been

meant to break her. Full force. Vicious.

“How could he do this to you?” Annabelle cried, her heart aching. “You’re his actual sister.”

A bitter, pained smile touched Sophia’s lips. “Yeah… Why is that?”

The question hung in the air, haunting. She could never fathom why her own brother, her own family, despised her so

much.

Lucas was diagnosed with a minor concussion. The blow to his head wasn’t what had knocked him out. It was the sight of his own blood. The man had a well–known phobia of it.

He came to in a private hospital room, his head throbbing beneath a layer of gauze. The only other person there was his secretary, Kevin.

“Mr. Westwood. You’re awake.” Kevin moved swiftly to help him sit up.

Lucas scanned the room, his expression hardening when he saw no one else there.

His voice was dangerously low when he finally spoke. “Where is Sophia? She’s the one who did this. And she doesn’t even have the decency to be here? She’s got a death wish.”

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