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

Chapter 331: Night Cap IV

Family heirloom? Ewan swallowed, darting a glance at the bracelet still held gently by Florence, like it was a long-lost—but found—treasure.

His savior was a Thorne? Yet, how was that possible? There was no Thorne his age; except maybe Cedric. And even then, it wasn’t a male that had jumped into the raging river to save him.

It wasn’t a male that had been friends with him, playing and running down fields with him.

No, it had been a female. A female with black long hair, and the best of smiles.

There must be a misunderstanding somewhere, he thought, taking a step back before he could realize what he was doing. It couldn’t be a Thorne. Maybe a similar bracelet?

"Why are you moving away? Won’t you answer my questions?"

Ewan exhaled, sliding his hand into his pockets. "Let’s talk in the sitting room. Standing is making me more tired than usual," He replied to Florence, who nodded frantically before gesturing to the door.

"This way, then."

Together, the people in the room thronged after Ewan into the sitting room, taking seats just as immediately, breakfast forgotten.

Kathleen sat with her father, while Nathaniel chose to stay with his mother, not begrudging his sister for her choice, because his father had proven himself trustworthy a good number of times.

"So, tell me, Ewan... the bracelet..." Florence continued from where she stopped, determined to get answers immediately. Her husband let her, because he too needed answers. How was his daughter’s bracelet in Ewan’s hands?

Athena was just as curious. Her hands clasped with Nathaniel’s, her eyes were sharp as ever, as were her ears—ready to listen, to understand, and possibly make sense of why she was drawn to the bracelet too, as if it had been an old friend urging her to remember.

"The bracelet belongs to the girl who saved me more than twenty years ago from drowning to my death, as I mentioned earlier. Seeing as there are no female Thorne around that age, I doubt it belongs to a Thorne. Old man, it can’t belong to Aunt Emily, too, because she was..." A little weighted pause. "Dead when I was two, or was it three?"

Old Mr. Thorne nodded slowly, leaning forward. "You are right, Ewan. There is no young female Thorne around... yet I can’t be wrong—the bracelet is the Thorne’s heirloom. Florence, please go get ours."

Florence shot up to her feet immediately, heading toward the passageway.

Five minutes later, she returned to the sitting room with two similar bracelets. She handed them over to Ewan, who took them gingerly and compared them with the one around his wrist. He swallowed again when he realized it was the same.

"Maybe it belongs to one of your sister’s children?"

Old Mr. Thorne frowned. "My sister has only one child, and that child only has Cedric. There’s no other."

it be that Aunt Emily misplaced

that. Emily isn’t one to misplace things. She is very careful... yet..." He exhaled

maybe Aunt Emily had a daughter," Chelsea muttered, albeit loud

even as her husband

before her death—I would have known if there was a

frown didn’t disappear from Chelsea’s face, to the surprise of Athena. It was like her friend knew more than she was letting

we should know?" Old Mr. Thorne asked, unable to hide the hope shining in

daughter, then... He had to willfully suppress the rising emotions within him, not

you know, Aunt Emily was a good friend of Areso’s mother..." She looked at Florence as she spoke her next words. "I’m not sure if

I do. She was the best

Emily was a fashion designer.

surprise that Areso had followed in her mother’s footsteps—or was it Emily? Athena wondered, remembering the first time she had come to the Thorne mansion, the shock that had overwhelmed her when Florence had called her Emily, because Emily

items. It wasn’t Areso’s, because her crib is downstairs. This one was up in the attic. And then

A significant pause.

to. Her mother never spoke about it. As a matter of fact, her mother got cantankerous the first time

tinged with tension, descended into the room. Florence broke it the

out, hands shaking, remembering the year

see that he was remembering too—the year Emily had claimed she was on a retreat with her husband. Could

would her daughter keep the

the next few seconds and handed it over to her. A bow, and he

searching the internet about the woman called Emily Thorne. She gasped softly when the images of the late woman flooded her phone.

that she reminded him of his late daughter, why Florence had called her

she didn’t have the woman’s dark brown hair. No, her

Athena gulped in air.

pictures; feelings assaulted him in rapid succession—feelings that bamboozled him

his

watched as Florence put the phone

Jessica’s soft voice wafted through the

almost caused a divide

to dismiss the thought and listened to the conversation. People saw their doppelgängers every day. It was a

Florence. It’s been ages... how are you doing?" Jessica was