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

Chapter 411: Two Teams IV

Chapter 411: Two Teams IV

Ewan had always wondered if he would be in this position again—before an onslaught of bullets, heart hammering, adrenaline surging—after taking his place in his family’s company.

For years, he had convinced himself that boardroom negotiations, corporate deals, and endless paperwork had replaced the days of ducking fire and leading missions. But some things never left a man.

The thought had haunted him often during quiet nights, the question whispering: what if it happens again? What if you find yourself before the barrel of a gun, and your team isn’t there to cover you? What if you’re alone?

Now, with walls echoing with gunfire and shouts, with plaster chipping above his head from a spray of bullets, that question was no longer hypothetical.

And strangely—he smiled.

Because as soon as the trigger pulled, as soon as danger pressed in on all sides, his body remembered. His training came alive in him like muscle memory. His hands and legs moved as if they had been waiting, itching for this exact moment.

Everything synced: his breath, his eyes, the rhythm of his heart. He moved in one accord, in one flow, like a current of water rushing through cracks in stone.

The first man came from the left, bursting forward, gun raised. Ewan didn’t even blink. His pistol lifted, barked once, and the man crumpled, his weapon clattering against the tiles.

But Ewan didn’t stay in one place, not with the incoming angry men. He darted forward, boots striking hard against the floor, then vaulted onto the wall in a smooth arc. His legs found grip where no normal man should have found footing, and he kicked off, twisting his body midair.

Bullets sprayed beneath him, but his pistol spoke more than twice before he landed, each shot finding its mark in the men below. Four bodies hit the ground, their fighting objects limp by their sides, before he even touched down.

The moment his boots kissed the floor, he was already rolling, already firing backward at the enemies chasing him from behind. His movements were so fluid it almost looked choreographed, like he had rehearsed every step.

He crouched as bullets flew past, firing back, sparks flashing from metal scraping against concrete. He ducked beneath a swinging baton, drove his shoulder into the assailant’s chest, and fired point-blank before the man could even gasp. He didn’t linger, didn’t gloat. Every move was transition into the next, a dancer in a ballet of death.

He pushed deeper into the hallway, every step measured, every breath controlled. Door by door, he moved, shoulder against wood, gun raised. He kicked one open thereafter and froze for a fraction of a second.

Inside were things that made his stomach twist—obscene scenes, naked abused women forced into corners, eyes wide with terror, the criminals using them like shields.

His finger tensed on the trigger, instinct screaming at him to shoot, but discipline held him back. He couldn’t risk hitting innocents.

The nearest thug smirked, thinking Ewan was hesitating in fear. He didn’t realize Ewan was waiting for the perfect moment.

And when it came—when the criminals finally turned their focus away from him for a second, in order to leave the bed to accost him, thereby leaving the women unshielded—Ewan acted immediately. His pistol spat fire, clean and precise. Three shots. Three men down. He lowered his gun slowly, letting the ringing silence fill the room.

The women blinked at him, trembling. One of them whimpered. Ewan’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t say a word. He turned, leaving the door wide open, a silent invitation for them to run. To escape.

But even if they didn’t, the state security service would soon invade the building. Aiden had dropped a tip to them, a late one, intentionally.

Ewan, meanwhile, repeated this through the rooms. Kick. Enter. Judge. Shoot. Leave. Always moving, always flowing. Some rooms stank of smoke and sweat. Others were dens of gambling or drugs. Each time, he found criminals, and each time, he cut them down with the merciless precision of a man trained for this exact nightmare.

Blood pooled on the floorboards, shadows stretched long under the flickering bulbs, and still he pressed forward, one door after another, one body after another.

By the time he reached the stairs to the last floor, his breathing was heavier, but his focus sharper. He climbed step by step, his pistol steady, eyes scanning every corner.

The second floor greeted him with silence—a silence he didn’t trust. He walked slowly, almost crouched, the muzzle of his pistol leading the way. And then...

A figure stood at the end of the corridor, just outside a heavy door. A girl. She couldn’t have been more than twenty, her hair tied back messily, a rifle steady in her hands.

She was pale under the hallway’s dim light, but her eyes were hard, defiant. She raised her gun, and Ewan froze.

Something about her stopped him cold. She reminded him of Heronica. The angle of her chin, the stubborn line of her mouth, even the way her hands shook but held steady anyway.

For a heartbeat, he hesitated.

And that hesitation cost him.

The crack of a gunshot ripped through the corridor, and searing pain tore into his thigh. He groaned, staggering back, hitting the wall with a grunt, settling behind it, just close to the stairs. His pistol nearly slipped from his hand, but he gritted his teeth and held on.

The girl kept shooting, each round tearing into the walls around him. From the sound and rhythm, he knew she was getting closer, step by step.

"Are you scared to fight, old man?" she shouted, voice shaking but loud. "Come out, sot!"

Him? A sot?

Despite the burning pain in his leg, Ewan almost laughed. Not because it was funny, but because of the absurdity of it—here he was, bleeding, hunted, cornered, and still his pride found the insult ridiculous.

He touched the wound at his thigh, grimacing. The pad he’d worn had taken the worst of it, but blood still seeped through. A surface wound, maybe, but no less painful.

His eyes flicked to his pack. Only one cartridge left.

"One bullet," he muttered under his breath. "Better be worth it."

He inhaled slowly, counting seconds, mind calculating, heart steadying. He needed her to take position—somewhere predictable, somewhere he could end it with precision.

And then he saw it: the broken glass scattered on the floor, catching faint light, reflecting her shadow as she stepped closer. Her boots crunched against it, revealing her exact spot without her realizing.

Perfect.

He steadied his hand, lined up the shot, and fired—not at her chest, not at her head, but at her right leg; mercy prevailing.Chapter 412: Two Teams V

Chapter 412: Two Teams V

Ewan left the bleeding girl where she writhed on the floor, clutching at her wounded leg, her defiance still smoldering in her glare even through the pain. He ignored her spit, ignored her muttered curses, and pressed his ear to the heavy door she had been guarding.

Silence.

He tilted his head, listening harder. No shuffling. No voices. Nothing that betrayed what lay behind the barrier. His jaw tightened. The silence could mean one of two things: the room was empty, or someone inside was waiting—poised, breath held, gun raised.

"Not even going to say anything when your life’s already hanging by a thread?" he muttered, half to the girl.

He turned his head slightly, his voice carrying the sharp edge of a threat. "One word could save you from bleeding out. Say nothing, and maybe I will blow off your other leg."

She glared, lips pressed into a thin line. Not a sound. Not even a flinch.

Loyalty.

Ewan breathed out slowly. Sometimes he hated the word."

He reached up, fingers tugging on the strap of his helmet. It was still snug, but he adjusted anyway, tightening it until it pinched at his jaw. The last thing he needed was a stray bullet glancing off and knocking it loose.

He tested the chin-strap twice, ensuring it was secure, then rolled his shoulders, loosening the tension in his muscles.

With one last breath, he lifted his boot and drove it hard into the door.

The lock splintered, the door swinging open violently, banging against the wall. His pistol was already raised, finger curled on the trigger.

And then—he froze.

A man stood in the middle of the room, gun pressed firmly against the head of a boy no older than twelve—Ciara’s little brother.

The boy’s wide eyes were glassy with terror, tears streaking his cheeks, his small chest heaving with shallow breaths. Behind them, Ciara’s parents trembled, both bound, both crying, both whispering prayers that seemed to go unheard.

"Move," the criminal snarled, pressing the barrel tighter against the boy’s temple, "and a bullet goes into his head."

Ewan’s eyes narrowed. His gaze flicked quickly over the man. It-was-white singlet. Faded blue boxers. Feet bare. His hair was unkempt, sweat beading on his forehead.

Not a good shooter or thug. Not even ready. Ewan concluded.

The latter must have rushed here when the shooting started, too desperate to save his life. He had chosen to make a last stand with the nearest leverage available—innocents.

"You wouldn’t want to do that," Ewan said evenly.

"Oh?" The criminal grinned, though his lips trembled. "Trust me, it would be my utmost pleasure. But I want to know who you are first."

Ewan tilted his head, gun still trained. "So you think I’ll answer your questions if you keep them alive? Trading their lives for information?"

The man nodded, quick, eager. "Exactly. My boss would appreciate that more than their dead bodies. They’re not useful—just pawns to keep spies under control."

"Spies?" Ewan’s tone was cold. "You mean Ciara."

The fellow smirked at the recognition. "So you found her out, then. Stupid girl who can’t get anything right. She’ll pay for it, don’t worry..." He paused, a cruel light flashing in his eyes. "That’s if you haven’t punished her already for aiding and abetting a crime against the state."

Ewan’s lips pressed into a hard line. He didn’t blink. Didn’t lower his weapon.

do you want to do this the easy way—or do you

bravado cracked. His brow furrowed. "You cut off

tightened on the gun. Ewan could see the tremor, the unstable pulse of his hand. The wrong word,

him away

of his pistol, but an idea sparked in his mind. Slowly,

he said. His voice softened, dipped into something persuasive. "I’ll make you a

eyes narrowed

the pistol away, lowering it slightly. "You want to know who I am? Fine. But you’ll have to let them live. I’ll even

lips curved into a shaky

a show of compliance. His heart

gun from the boy’s head and pointed it squarely at

to his feet,

split—on Ewan, on

button on the strap at his thigh. A sharp, high-pitched chirp echoed

the

wrapping around the hilt of the knife nestled there.

with a sickening thunk,

in shock, mouth opening soundlessly as he dropped both weapons, hands clawing at his neck. Blood spilled over his chest, bubbling from his lips as he crumpled to

Only the sobs

with the familiarity of a man who had done this too many times before. His chest rose and fell

toward the family. "Are you okay?" His

bound their wrists. The cords came loose, and he tossed them aside. Ciara’s

to their feet. Their legs were shaky, their faces pale, but

in the distance, faint but growing

them, gun raised, his head jerking here and there, eyes wide

in

the sound of his

going to shoot me?" Ewan teased

scoffed, lowering the gun to his side. Relief flashed across his face, though he tried to mask it with irritation. "Let’s go. The police will be here

family to walk ahead, keeping himself at the rear, every sense

stairs, he asked, "Did we lose

of injured. Good thing you insisted on the truck.

"Like you don’t

He asked, seconds later.Chapter 413: Being

Chapter 413: Being Present

touched your food. Is the food not to your liking?"

those that had gone to the gang’s hideout. Were

bobbing as she forced her focus back to the present, and picked

he got to find out that they had gone on a mission to retrieve Ciara’s parents—she wasn’t sure

lips pressing together as she glanced at the time on her wristwatch.

the wrong message to Antonio. He frowned, his

you? Do you want to

finally meeting his gaze. The cutlery, which had been dancing

I never said you were boring

am. I have been the only one talking, and even then, your attention isn’t with me

everything—because then he would understand. But the need not to burden him with problems, the need to obey her grandfather,

scooped food into her mouth thereafter, after a second of

bored, Antonio. I’m just occupied with solving the recent case ravaging the state, or will soon be. You should understand my place in the situation of things... I have to find the

there isn’t any yet. It’s possible that you finding out the location had upended their plans. You should think about the positives only. Or did you find something else to prove that they already have a

eyes lowering to her plate. "Just a

worrying too much, Athena. It’s not good for your health. You are a doctor, so you must know this. You

be." Easier

as she tried to focus on Antonio talking about his day at work, even as she tried to forcefully

since the last one where he had informed her they would be going into position in the next five minutes. She had wished him well

at the lab if you

lower lip nervously, counting herself lucky that she had heard her

chemicals

His brows arched slightly, his

then decided to bite the bullet. "Okay, we invaded a

"What!"

attracted the attention of the other diners, seventy percent of whom had just been to the cinema which was just close by moments

look, whispers starting at nearby

"Antonio, calm down."

calm down? My girlfriend went into a gang’s hideout without letting me

hand leaving hers to clench into a fist

never said I

brow sharply. "Then what do you mean by ’we’?

shrugged lightly. "Members of the state security.

teeth, making the drastic decision to keep the matter too from Antonio after seeing his reaction. The last thing she needed

Her fingers itched to touch her phone, but she had kept

over his features. "When you said we... I thought

deliberate, careful sips. She cleaned her mouth with a serviette, folding it

with a frown, not pleased with the half-eaten

if I

forward. "Being in the lab had sucked

see. So, continue your

held back a sigh, forcing her tone to stay calm. "They reported scenting a certain chemical... I asked them to describe it..."Chapter

Being Present

wouldn’t worry much, than in the question she had asked Antonio;

he have for

she had left the lab—because she had stopped him from coming to pick her, mentioning that he wait outside the cinema for her—she had been approached by a couple of her neighbors, a couple of frightened neighbors, who wanted her firsthand comment on the issue, if they had any reason

was apart from those

this, she was more curious to know his reply, to even know what he was

Her tone was soft, but carried an edge of impatience. "What do you think I should do? Go to sleep and hope everything will

better than

the unrest plaguing the state? Is that what you are

her with furrowed

something is going wrong at your workplace, maybe when numbers aren’t adding up,

to the base behind, as if trying to

not a rhetorical

frowned then, detecting the sarcastic tilt to ’darling.’ His lips pressed

find out what’s happening." He muttered, letting the matter go. He was at fault for rousing

he let her worry over nothing? Business was different from medicine after all.

of people depend on me. Don’t you get it? I bear a heavy burden of people’s

see." Antonio murmured, though Athena wondered if he really

the

phone dinged with a message. She muttered an "excuse me" to Antonio when she saw it was from Gianna, and picked up

with some

sure what to make of the message. But knowing that her friend wouldn’t surprise her with a bad gift released the tension on her shoulders,

stated, looking up from

"Is there a problem?"

have visitors coming,

faintly, picking his phone from the table. "That’s interesting. I would love to see them too...

displaced Athena mentally for a second. What did that mean? Was her boyfriend that shallow, to judge people by

and she gave him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she was misinterpreting

Gianna give you a name... you know, for the visitors?" Antonio asked as they walked out of the restaurant

it’s a surprise." She thanked Antonio when

do you

her lap. "I don’t know really. I haven’t the mind to

another message, pulling her eyes back

are home." The message read, causing her heart to palpitate both with relief and

How could she have forgotten so soon about the recap that would take place

started the car, prepping her tongue on how to break the news which she knew wouldn’t sit well

her up from a junction, so that we can head home together... her car developed

smile, dimples appearing faintly. "Oh, don’t worry. We

Chapter 415: More Guests

as she entered into the

pay heed to her mental instructions. Her heels

while walking back to the restaurant so that her driver would find it easier to spot her in the throng of people going

she lifted her hand in a small wave at Aiden as she spotted him talking on the phone near the porch. He caught sight of her, his lips still moving in conversation, and

arrived, mouthing, "Everyone is in there?" She exhaled in relief when

that?" she asked, tilting

of security... asking questions above his paygrade, wanting to