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

Chapter 359: At Odds II

Athena was aware of the unresolved, slight tension between her and Antonio, as a result of her sharp response to his previous question, when she strolled into the living room with him in tow—but she didn’t let it worry her.

Ewan’s presence, however, was a case to be worried for—especially with his laughter booming across the room; with Kathleen sitting on his thigh, laughing.

Nathaniel was on his other thigh, gazing between his great-grandfather and his father while the duo made more arguments on football, with Chelsea fanning the flames. Florence sat beside her husband, showing silent support.

This picture—yes—was enough to spike Athena’s anxiety levels.

Without so much as a word (not that the jolly people in the room stopped their conversation to let them in), she hurried to the dining table and sat down. Antonio took the next seat.

"I am sorry," he started, as soon as he sat down. "But you can see why I am worried. He’s like a leech that won’t go away."

Athena frowned. She understood Antonio’s jealousy, yet it didn’t make her mild surprise go away; she had always known Antonio as an accommodating person, not one with a bitterness to his voice that wouldn’t go away.

"He’s my children’s father, Antonio. Like a son to the Thornes too—would have been but for the intervention of Alfonso. You will have to get used to his presence."

Antonio nodded. "Maybe. But I think I can only relax properly when we are married."

That word again. Athena unconsciously let the fork down—the latter making a clanging noise on the ceramic plate and quenching the noise in the living room.

It confirmed Athena’s suspicions that her family was very much aware of her presence, for how else would they have heard that clang amidst their arguments and boisterous laughter?

"Athena, is the food not to your liking?" Florence broke the silence, darting a curious glance at Antonio, whose only attention was on Athena.

Beneath the table, his hand reached for her thighs, to soothe her, to placate her, but Athena shuddered, unable to help it—to his chagrin.

"It’s tasty, Grandma. I’m just tired. I mustn’t have been holding the fork well."

A lie apparent to the adults in the room, but no one said anything.

"Please, you can continue the discussions. I won’t drop the fork again," she continued, eager to make the silence disappear, a teasing lilt in her voice.

This time, the twins chuckled before drawing their father into another round of conversation.

again... what was happening to her? She met Old Mr. Thorne’s gaze, right

gaze spoke, needing no words. She gave a barely-there nod, picking the fork

you ignoring me?" Antonio asked a few minutes later, unable to take the

no cause to worry, but anytime Ewan is around, it’s like you lose touch of yourself—of

Athena countered as smoothly as she could, as

you so fraught with

would you let me finish eating? You are not making this easier for me. I asked for space, and

decibel was enunciated in the fire

a normal pace? Why inject roadblocks, which you think are speed boosters on the way? First, it was the paparazzi, and now... marriage?" Athena shook her head. "I think you should

and confidence. "Why do I

about your character. It’s like you got into this state and became

hand weaving nothing in the air. "...when we were back in

him then. I gave you the

gone softer, but that was when he was to be feared, Athena

grandmother wouldn’t be happy if she didn’t eat a reasonable amount of this palatable dish before

had respected her boundaries then. Ewan in the

his gaze tenderly. "Ewan and I are in the past. We are

pause, where her eyes swept across his tensed face lovingly. "You can trust

heard the sharp, almost silent intake of

about it, my experience with it. So pardon me if I

on the plate and touched his cheek—needing to reassure

level? Besides, you have known the twins far longer than Ewan has. I am sure they understand that too—their

face with both

present." She repeated it, just at the same time that she noticed her voice decibel had increased, that the chatter

were the

herself she had done nothing wrong—and returned to her food, consciously taking forkfuls, aware that

she knew that surely, they had heard her—or at least part of her declaration

gusto, she sighed, relieved that the storm

easy then, but she was surprised

The elephant in the

forkfuls of food, stamping down the urge to turn toward