She Used Me for a Dare… Now I Own Her Mother Chapter 363: Sophia(2)

Emerging into the Restricted Archives, Sophia felt an immediate, jarring shift as the harsh fluorescent illumination of the Main Hall vanished. It was instantly supplanted by a dense, velvety obsidian gloom that pressed firmly against her skin.

Standing motionless, she squinted, attempting to pierce the pervasive murkiness.

"What the hell..." she mumbled, her words swallowed by the oppressive, sound-dampening aura of the massive shelves. "With all that funding, surely they could afford a few lights back here? Typical behavior."

She clutched her expensive coat tighter, a scowl deepening on her features. The silence here lacked serenity; it was suffocating.

"And why in the world did that woman choose this place for a hiding spot?" Sophia hissed under her breath, her irritation escalating.

Moving forward with careful, sluggish strides, she instinctively reached out to steady herself before recoiling at once, a gasp of disgust escaping her as she felt the coarse layer of grime covering the closest shelf.

"If these clothes are ruined for her pathetic game, I will personally see to her downfall," she whispered into the shadows.

She navigated the narrow pathway as though traversing a minefield. Her boots clicked rhythmically against the stone, a lonely, persistent sound that made her skin crawl.

Every shadow took on a humanoid shape; every groan of the building echoed like approaching footsteps. Yet, as she neared the bend leading to Row 40, the silence was finally shattered.

It wasn't a footfall. It was a sharp, repetitive crack—a noise so jarring in the library setting that her heart began to hammer violently against her chest.

Sophia stiffened, pressing her spine firmly against the frigid, iron-reinforced corner of the shelf. Her breathing hitched, trapped within a throat that had turned parched in an instant.

'What was that?' she thought, remaining utterly frozen while straining her eyes against the velvet gloom.

For a brief moment, she attempted to convince herself it was merely an auditory illusion—the byproduct of pure exhaustion or the stifling solitude of the Archives playing tricks on her mind.

But then, a low, rhythmic thrum emanated through the stacks.

It was unmistakably human, muffled and warped by distance, yet radiating an intensity that raised the hairs on her arms.

She couldn't decipher the specific wording, but the tone was unmistakable. It was a plea.

To dispel the suffocating dread building within her, Sophia forced her limbs to move. She crept toward Row 41, her heart racing in a frantic, uneven tempo.

As she reached the corner, the sound grew clearer, sharpening into a jagged edge that sliced through her final vestiges of denial.

"Ahh... please, Master..."

The moan struck Sophia like a physical impact, freezing her in place. It wasn't merely a sound of distress; it was the distinct, breathless cadence of a woman who had finally been granted exactly what she had long craved.

It carried a heavy, desperate satisfaction—the sound of someone who had spent a lifetime feigning untouchability, only to be dismantled by a force that knew how to shatter her.

'What the hell is transpiring here?' she wondered, a cold perspiration dampening her brow. 'Have I wandered into the wrong sector? Is this some kind of nightmare?'

Her mind recoiled, unable to bridge the gap between the Jennifer she recognized—the unattainable 'Ice Queen' who gazed down upon everyone—and the broken, whimpering entity echoing through the aisles. It contradicted everything she realized about their social hierarchy. Jennifer would never engage in such behavior. Certainly not here. Not in this fashion.

Yet, despite the desperate denial screaming in her mind, Sophia's legs moved of their own accord. A macabre, magnetic pull drew her forward, her designer boots silent as she crept closer to the heat source.

"Are they truly doing it here?" she whispered into the darkness, her voice trembling. "Without any sense of caution? In the middle of the library?"

She rounded the edge of Row 41, her eyes finally catching a flicker of amber radiance at the end of the aisle.

And then, it occurred again—a sound that demolished the remainder of her skepticism.

"Ahh... yes... Master... more..."

The voice resonated with such shameless, intoxicating delight that a wave of visceral shock surged through Sophia's entire frame.

She became deathly still, her hand darting to her mouth to stifle a shriek. Fear seized her then, a frigid, heavy weight in her gut, as she finally grasped the true extent of that submission.

'It is her,' Sophia realized, her world tilting on its axis. 'It is actually her.'

Sophia leaned in, her forehead pressing against the cold, gritty spines of the legal tomes in Row 42. Her respiration was shallow, caught in her chest as she peered through the narrow sliver between the volumes.

The amber light from the aisle's end spilled over the scene like a spotlight on wreckage, and for an instant, time stood still.

There was Jennifer.

The woman who exerted influence in every room she entered, who moved with a lethal, calculated icy exterior, was now reduced to a broken heap upon the stone floor.

She knelt, her back arched and her head lolling back in a display of total, visceral surrender.

She was not alone. Madison and Emma stood nearby, flanking her like stoic sentinels. Their hands were clamped onto Jennifer's shoulders, pinning her down, their own expressions masked in dark, wide-eyed fascination.

And then, there was him.

Standing tall behind her, looming like a king claiming a conquered territory, was Alex.

He moved with a slow, relentless potency, driving into her with a steady, rhythmic force that seemed to vibrate through the very shelves Sophia gripped.

He didn't seem rushed. He didn't look like a man fearing discovery in a restricted zone. He carried the air of a man who possessed the woman, the room, and the very atmosphere they inhaled.

Sophia's eyes widened, her vision blurring as a cold, electric shock jolted through her marrow.

'Alex... it is Alex.'

The disbelief was a physical burden, crushing the oxygen from her lungs.

'How? When?' These questions screamed within her mind, yet they could not drown out the sound of Jennifer's voice—that raw, jagged moan of a 'Queen' who had finally encountered someone powerful enough to break her.

As if perceiving the shift in the atmosphere, Alex tilted his head.

His gaze did not wander; it pierced the gloom of the aisle and locked onto the gap between the books.

He looked directly at Sophia, his eyes dark and predatory.

He was aware. He had known she was present the entire time.

A slow, lethal grin stretched across his face—the smile of a devil who had just claimed a soul.

But the true nightmare was yet to unfold. With a cruel, proprietary gesture, Alex grabbed Jennifer’s chin and forced her head to turn.

"Look, Jennifer," he rumbled, his voice a low vibration of dark satisfaction. "It appears we have an audience. Say hello to your acquaintance."

Sophia's heart ceased its rhythm. Jennifer, whose eyes had been glazed and unfocused, centered her gaze on the gap between the books. Instead of shrinking in shame or scrambling for cover, a jagged, mocking smirk curled her lips.

She looked straight at Sophia, her face flushed and glistening in the amber glow, wearing the expression of someone who had just been bestowed a crown that Sophia would never be permitted to touch.

"Master..." Jennifer breathed, her voice a raw, melodic thread that carried perfectly through the archives.

She did not break eye contact with Sophia; she arched back against Alex, her stare fixed on her friend with a terrifying, triumphant clarity.

"I desire more. Please... demonstrate how you break a Queen. Show her what she has been lacking."

The mockery struck her like a physical blow. They were not merely being caught; they were inviting her to witness the execution. It was a dual-pronged strike, a nuanced revenge that rendered Sophia’s blood cold.

Alex’s smirk broadened as he tightened his hold on Jennifer’s hips, never breaking eye contact with Sophia while maintaining his relentless, heavy pace. He was utilizing Jennifer to crush Sophia, and Jennifer acted as a willing, ravenous weapon in his hands.

A silent, agonizing wail echoed through Sophia’s mind.

'Why? Why her? Why that woman?'

The jealousy struck her like a tidal wave, proving more painful than the betrayal itself.

She had spent so much effort attempting to pierce his defenses, and here he was, using the very girl she loathed most to demonstrate exactly the reach she could never attain.

Sophia could not endure another moment. She recoiled from the shelf, her boots scrambling for purchase on the stone as she turned and fled. She no longer concerned herself with remaining silent. The 'Restricted' signage meant nothing now.

She sprinted blindly as the darkness of the Archives consumed her. Hot, burning tears tracked paths through her cosmetics.

She persisted in running, the visage of Alex’s devilish grin seared into her consciousness like a brand.

Sophia reached the heavy doors of the Restricted Archives and collided with them, her forward momentum carrying her into the transition zone.

She came to an abrupt halt, hands bracing against her knees as she inhaled the cold, dusty air in ragged, searing gasps.

Her lungs felt as though they were filled with shards of glass, but the physical distress paled in comparison to the sickening realization manifesting in her heart.

It was him. It had always been him.

She squeezed her eyelids shut, yet the memory of that cruel smile remained etched on her retina.

He hadn't merely seduced Jennifer; he had dismantled her, layer by layer, in the very location where Sophia would discover them. This was no clandestine romance; it was a declaration of total war.

Another cascade of searing tears traced lines through the grit on her cheeks.

He was methodical. He was relentless.

First, he had pursued her mother, tearing apart the foundations of her domestic life. Afterward, he targeted her aunt, stripping away her family’s remaining influence. Finally, he had reached into her own sphere to claim her friend, rendering her a whimpering puppet for Sophia to observe.

He was exacting his retribution piece by piece, person by person, and he smiled with every strike.