Dark Revenge Of An Unwanted Wife: The Twins Are Not Yours!

Chapter 238: Long Night II

What is he doing here? That was the first thought that raced through Ewan’s mind as he watched Antonio rub slow circles on Athena’s hands.

A wave of frustration washed over him, accompanied by a slight tremor in his hands and a dull, painful thud of his heart that seemed to sync with his simmering anger and jealousy.

Zane nudged him subtly, a familiar, silent reminder to keep his cool, to breathe, and to temper the emotions threatening to spill over.

"Ewan, what a lovely sight!" Florence exclaimed, oblivious of the gathering tension in the room, her voice bright with enthusiasm as she sprang to her feet and hurried over to him.

Her hands were warm and comforting as she pinched his cheeks, just as she had done so many times during his childhood.

Ewan couldn’t help but let out a muffled laugh, which drew a soft giggle from Kathleen, who was watching—amused—at the spectacle, right before she felt Nathaniel’s palm on her thigh.

Ewan’s expression was more comical as he tried to free his cheeks which were squeezed and drawn apart byFlorence’s strong grasp—making Old Mr. Thorne laugh out loud, unable to suppress the emotion any longer.

Gianna, who had determined, seconds ago, not to let Zane’s presence spoil her joyful mood, joined in the laughter too. She was in high spirits after all. She had successfully bagged a delightful new contract that had her bouncing with energy, eager to celebrate.

"Good afternoon, ma’am..." Ewan greeted once he was finally freed from Florence’s grip, followed closely by his friends.

The room then erupted into a flurry of greetings, hands shaking, laughter echoing as the awkwardness of the moment dissolved. Even Aiden, who had worn a foul mood since earlier in the day, seemed to set it aside as he anticipated the drama this evening might bring.

Kathleen and Nathaniel, however, didn’t know to navigate this waters that was knowing their father. They hadn’t greeted him, neither had they acknowleged his greetings. Not really...except a barely seen curt nod would count as one.

"So, Ewan, what do we have here?" Old Mr. Thorne called out when the atmosphere began to dip into awkward silence, a momentary lapse after Florence excused herself to discuss dinner arrangements with the servants.

weight of expectations pressing on him. Finally, he gestured to

me?" Gianna interjected playfully, raising an eyebrow in mock

away, but the smirk playing on her

nervous laugh, nervously rubbing his hands together. He inwardly chided himself for the level of anxiety he

one then, Gianna. Do you have anything in mind?" Ewan offered, trying

alarm through Ewan, but he was hopeful that his friend would manage to control his mouth and feelings in this moment. He had brought

replied,

in the room thickening once more. Ewan turned and shot a glare at him, silently urging his friend to reel it

outside. Need to make a call," Zane declared, avoiding Ewan’s gaze but knowing full well he had stepped in it. He quickly rose from his chair and excused himself, striding

room once Zane exited, punctuated only by the soft rustle of clothing and subtle glances exchanged. Gianna busied herself with her phone, feigning interest

her gaze drifting between Ewan and her children. She could see the beads of sweat forming on Ewan’s forehead, despite the air conditioning blasting in the room.

there was Old Mr. Thorne, regarding her with a knowing

the ice. Ewan had clammed up,

own gift, old man?" She

had re-joined them, wore a bright smile and her eyes sparkled with happiness. A bystander might have mistakenly thought she had

gift? What about me?" She exclaimed, just

softly, feeling the tension in his shoulders relax just a little. "Yours is there..."

over to the gift he indicated, her excitement palpable as she picked it up. She also grabbed her husband’s gift, wisely leaving the other items

vintage jewelry..." Florence exclaimed happily, her fingers gently caressing the exquisite Victorian pieces nestled within the

up with satisfaction as he received his own gift from Ewan. He couldn’t unveil it here; it was a shiny antique pistol, a

Mr. Thorne cradled the object lovingly, a glimmer of nostalgia in his eyes, increasing the curiosity among the audience who remained in suspense,