The Almighty Dominance novel Chapter 487

Estoria, a few days ago.

Sophia Lancaster — or Sophia Montclair— sat at a lavish dinner table across from a handsome man. His suit was spotless, his watch glittered under the warm lights, and every move he made screamed one thing:

He was trying too hard to impress her with money.

Sophia felt nothing. Not even a spark.

When she used to struggle for money, men like him seemed fascinating — polished, wealthy, a target.

But now that she had power, status, and more money than she ever imagined, she realized how hollow it all was. Everything felt staged. Everything felt fake.

Only one thing ever felt real.

Alex’s smile.

There was honesty in it. Warmth. A softness that reached his eyes. Even when he had nothing, he still gave her everything he could.

Care. Kindness. A love so sincere it frightened her.

‘The towers chant my name, yet none hear the ache beneath it.

The crowds applaud, yet my heart remains a solitary moon.

Only he once understood my soul…

and now he drifts beyond my reach.’

And after losing him, she tried to fill the void. She tried going on dates her family arranged, meeting men from every corner of Estoria.

She tried blind dates, business heirs, military officers, politicians, even celebrities.

None of them could touch her heart.

Some men stared only at her title — Governor of Paris State.

Some chased her beauty as if she were a trophy.

Some admired the image, not the woman.

But not one looked at her soul. Not one saw who she really was.

The man across from her leaned forward. “What do you think, Sophia? I have a big yacht. Maybe we could take a private tour on the ocean?”

Sophia rose gracefully, placing her napkin on the table. “I’m sorry. We’re not a good match.”

“But we haven’t even tried!” he protested, reaching out.

She had already turned away.

When he attempted to follow, two of her bodyguards stepped in, blocking him with cold professionalism.

“The Governor made her position clear,” one guard said evenly. “You and her will not be friends. Don’t push it. The door is closed.”

Sophia didn’t glance back. She walked straight to the private lounge.

Inside, Lyra Thompson was already there — alone, drunk, and singing into a microphone with all the heartbreak in her lungs.

Lyra looked up when Sophia entered. “Done with that lucky guy?” she asked, carrying her drink over.

Sophia took the glass, downed it in one smooth swallow, and collapsed onto the sofa. “I’m done with the guy. Any guy. I swear, I’m finished. I’m not marrying anyone. Ever.”

Lyra set the microphone down and sat beside her. Her voice cracked immediately.

“I miss Alex,” she whispered — then burst into tears, raw and aching.

Sophia had learned this pattern over the last three years. Every time Lyra remembered Alex, she broke down.

She cried like her heart was being ripped apart. And Sophia finally understood why.

Lyra truly loved him.

“He’s dead, Lyra,” Sophia whispered with a tired sigh.

“Dead?” Lyra snapped, eyes blazing. “Even if every human on this planet dropped dead, he would be the last one standing.”

“Come on, Lyra. You know that’s impossible.”

“What’s impossible?” Lyra fired back. “He was basically invincible.”

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