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.

start with, she stood from her seat as if electrocuted, then took hesitant steps away from the scene until her back hit

She, a Thorne? How?

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

to thrum with

something! She commanded her mind desperately, but all she

back. Nothing. She had forgotten them. Or rather, she hadn’t thought

known she would be hit with something capable of rocking her world as she knew it? How was she supposed to

Athena.

Cecilia Thorne.

be a mistake

for her to be friends with Ewan at such a young

trying to play here—putting me up as some other identity—but I think Connor

you’ve finally won. You won, woman. I thought you’d be glad. You are related to the Thornes... surely that’s the only reason they would be asking me about the

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

Fiona. She sighed tiredly, clasping her hands together. "Have you ever wondered why I hated you?

at Fiona implied she craved answers herself. She wasn’t alone

you because you were marrying Ewan. But it actually began before then. As a matter

A pause. A cough.

Please..." Fiona’s voice trembled as

wait to be told what to do this time. He hurried to bring another bottle of water, then carefully unfastened the

was near. It didn’t matter if it was in the

bottle of water, her hands trembling, ignoring the pungent odor emanating from her body. She drank eagerly, only stopping when the

tongue for the story ahead, licking her lower lips—pleased at the wetness. Good fresh water. A luxury she had come to

then, we were already friends, considering the close relationship our families shared. And we actually found this

him around.

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

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