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

Chapter 334: Fiona’s Truth

Athena was as still as an electric pole at the very instant Fiona’s shocking revelation unfolded.

This must be a joke, right? She thought, her eyes breaking away from the stunned stillness, darting frantically from Fiona to everyone in the room.

In the room now brightened by the rays filtering through the open window—as the sun made its ascent in the east, ready to fulfill its duty for the day—she could see clearly the astonishment plastered across everyone’s faces.

Astonishment and disbelief. Incredulity. Stupefaction. Startlement. Bewilderment. Even confusion.

She didn’t blame them; she was just as plagued with these emotions.

"Fi... Fiona... what did... just say?" Florence stammered, breaking the tense silence that had lasted over a minute. Her steps faltered as she staggered toward Fiona, whose eyes seemed to have gained the confidence of thousands, yet whose shoulders drooped in defeat.

"I answered your question. The questions of everyone. Is that okay to leave here? Is that okay to achieve freedom from this torture house? I really want to leave." Fiona stated calmly, crossing her legs, grimacing as pain upset her nerves.

She really was going to be crippled at this rate, if no one showed her mercy.

They should. She thought, placing her hands on her thigh. They should show her mercy. She would do anything to get out of this place. Even if it meant washing her dirty linen in public.

What was there to save face? She didn’t think anyone remembered her anymore—on social media, blogs, or even in society. She was a forgotten narrative now.

Fiona chuckled bitterly at her dilapidated self and ruined reputation. So much for fighting for her place.

She looked up when the silence refused to be broken after her statement and question, not at all surprised, she saw everyone standing still.

This truth was one she was supposed to take to the grave; therefore, it was supposed to keep everyone as silent as the grave, since she had broken the pact she made with her father. At least, the secret deserved that much reverence.

Fiona chuckled again, humorously this time, at her attempt to be funny. It was a good sign, she concluded—her mind could still attempt jokes at this point.

"No one’s going to say anything? What about you?" She asked, tired of the silence, turning to face Athena directly, ignoring the gestures Morgan was throwing her way—gestures she didn’t care for or understand.

Of what use was he when he couldn’t keep to his words, when he failed his promises?

Meanwhile, Athena balked.

then took hesitant

She, a Thorne? How?

in the world was this supposed to mean? That she was Emily’s daughter? And also Ewan’s

head started to thrum

her mind desperately, but all

pockets—both the front and back. Nothing. She had forgotten them. Or rather, she hadn’t thought to

her world as she knew it? How was she supposed to know that her identity would suffer another

Athena. Deep

Cecilia Thorne.

must be a mistake

to be friends with Ewan at such

up as some other identity—but I think

response. "You can do whatever you want, Athena. After all, you’ve finally won. You won, woman. I thought you’d

eyes narrowing slightly. "What are you? A lost daughter? Or is

hands together. "Have you ever wondered why

answer, but the way she stared at Fiona

"Yes, I hated you because you were marrying Ewan. But it actually began before then. As a

A pause. A cough.

Fiona’s voice trembled

hurried to bring another bottle of water,

tear slipping from her eye. Freedom was

water, her hands trembling, ignoring the pungent odor emanating from her body. She drank

many years ago..." Fiona prepared her heavy tongue for the story ahead, licking her lower lips—pleased at the wetness. Good fresh

years ago. I think twenty to twenty-one years ago, when Ewan found a new friend. Before then, we were already friends, considering the

audacious then, you see. Always wanting to disobey—or rather, Ewan was—and I was always wishing to follow him around. He was like the big brother I didn’t have." Her eyes, filled with sorrow

posture told of a man in shock, yet whose eyes were as cold as ice as he watched

about it being off-limits, when we saw her, right before the boundary lines. She was looking around the environment, filled with towering grasses—and yet, not afraid. If anything, her eyes shone with curiosity, intelligence. Even then, I thought she was brave, thought she would make a great addition to our group... until