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.

"I think that’s for us to decide," he replied quietly. "Now tell me, do you want to do this the easy way—or do you want to lose a leg like your comrade outside?"

For a moment, the criminal’s bravado cracked. His brow furrowed. "You cut off her leg?"

The man’s grip tightened on the gun. Ewan could see the tremor, the unstable pulse of his hand. The wrong word, the wrong twitch, and the little boy would be gone.

I have to put him away now. Ewan thought, jaw clenched.

His thumb brushed against the cool steel of his pistol, but an idea sparked in his mind. Slowly, deliberately, he loosened his grip on the gun.

"Wait," he said. His voice softened, dipped into something persuasive. "I’ll make you a trade. Information—for their lives."

The criminal’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Ewan tilted 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 throw my gun down."

The man’s lips curved into a shaky grin. "Now you’re talking. Drop it. Slowly."

Ewan nodded, keeping his movements smooth, deliberate. He crouched, lowering his pistol to the floor, inch by inch, making a show of compliance. His heart hammered, but his face betrayed nothing. The gun clinked softly as it touched the ground.

"Good," the criminal said, his grin widening. He shifted his gun from the boy’s head and pointed it squarely at Ewan. "Now stand up. Slowly. Hands where I can see them."

Ewan obeyed, rising to his feet, palms open, expression calm.

The criminal took steps forward, eager to claim the discarded weapon. His focus was split—on Ewan, on the gun he was bending to retrieve, on his own arrogance. And that was enough.

Ewan’s thumb tapped fast, the small button on the strap at his thigh. A sharp, high-pitched chirp echoed in the room—the alarm for backup. The sound made the man flinch, head snapping toward the unexpected noise.

That was all the distraction Ewan needed.

In a fluid motion, his hand darted to his waist, fingers wrapping around the hilt of the knife nestled there. His arm whipped forward, muscles flexing, and the blade spun through the air with deadly precision.

The knife buried itself into the man’s throat with a sickening thunk, before the latter could realise what had happened.

His eyes widened 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 the floor.

Silence fell. Only the sobs of Ciara’s family remained.

Ewan bent, picked up his gun, and slid it back into his grip with the familiarity of a man who had done this too many times before. His chest rose and fell with steady breaths, though inside, the adrenaline still burned like fire.

He strode toward the family. "Are you okay?" His voice was softer now, steadier.

He crouched, tugging at the ropes that bound their wrists. The cords came loose, and he tossed them aside. Ciara’s mother clutched her son, tears wetting her face. The father rubbed his wrists, his lips parting as if to speak.

"Follow me," Ewan said firmly, helping them to their feet. Their legs were shaky, their faces pale, but they obeyed. "Keep your questions for later. We need to leave."

He glanced toward the shattered window. Sirens were wailing in the distance, faint but growing louder. The police were coming. And so, no doubt, was the backup for the gang.

He ushered them out into the hallway. Sandro stood there, backing them, gun raised, his head jerking here and there, eyes wide as if expecting shadows to leap out.

Ewan chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. "They’re all gone."

Sandro spun at the sound of his voice, weapon still aimed.

"You going to shoot me?" Ewan teased dryly.

Sandro 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 any second. Neighbors must have tipped them off."

"Probably," Ewan said, falling into step. He motioned for Ciara’s family to walk ahead, keeping himself at the rear, every sense alert.

As they hurried down the stairs, he asked, "Did we lose any of our men?"

"No," Sandro replied quickly, though his brow furrowed. "But we have a lot of injured. Good thing you insisted on the truck. You really do make plans like your ex-wife—first the helmets and army gear, now the transport."

Ewan snorted softly, lips quirking. "Like you don’t know what attacking the gang entails."

"And Zane?" He asked, seconds later.Chapter 413: Being Present

Chapter 413: Being Present

"Your mind seems occupied. And you have barely touched your food. Is the food not to your liking?" Antonio’s voice was able to coax Athena from her thoughts about the mission she wasn’t present in.

Were her people okay? Were any injured? Especially those that had gone to the gang’s hideout. Were they hurt?

She swallowed, her throat bobbing as she forced her focus back to the present, and picked up her cutlery with slightly trembling fingers.

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

of protection mentally, her lips pressing together as she glanced at the time on her wristwatch. They should be rounding up the mission

Athena looking at her watch passed the wrong message to Antonio. He

I boring you? Do you

The cutlery, which had been dancing aimlessly on her

Antonio? I never said you were

and looking aside, his jaw tightening. "You act like I am. I have been

could tell Antonio everything—because then he would understand. But the need not to burden him with problems,

she sucked on her lower lip and scooped food into her

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

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

head slowly, her eyes lowering to her

reached across the table for her left hand, engulfing her soft hand with his warm, steady one. "Quit worrying too much, Athena. It’s not good for your health. You are a doctor, so you must know this. You

should be." Easier said than done.

day at work, even as she tried to forcefully take spoonfuls of food so as not to trigger Antonio’s questions again, her mind kept derailing before she could help it—toward the mission,

last one where he had informed her they would be going into position in the next five

about yours? What did you do at the lab if you had nothing

licked her lower lip nervously, counting herself lucky that she

hunch... adding and subtracting chemicals to the Grey

look like he believed her. His brows arched slightly, his lips pressing

decided to bite the bullet. "Okay, we invaded

"What!"

percent of whom had just been to the cinema which was just close by moments ago, like the

look, whispers starting at nearby

"Antonio, calm down."

down? My girlfriend went into a gang’s hideout

his hand leaving hers to

never said I did

brow sharply. "Then what do you mean

the state security. They received

after seeing his reaction. The last thing she needed tonight was to feel the need to defend her actions,

touch her phone, but she had kept from reaching

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

deliberate, careful sips. She cleaned her mouth with a serviette, folding it neatly and placing it beside her plate before

this series of actions with a frown, not pleased with the half-eaten

have ordered something else if I knew you didn’t

the lab had sucked out

nodded slowly. "I see. So, continue

stay calm. "They reported scenting a certain chemical... I asked them to describe it..."Chapter 414:

Being Present

so that she wouldn’t worry much, than in

was canceling out the option of working with a hunch, what alternative did he have

that he wait outside the cinema for her—she had been approached by a couple of her neighbors, a

okay. That was apart from those who had approached

curious to know his reply, to even know what he was thinking, seeing as he looked

was sure two minutes had passed. Her tone was soft, but carried an edge of

than spending hours on wrong

With the unrest plaguing the state? Is that what

slowly when he said nothing, only staring at her with furrowed brows, like

something is going wrong at your workplace, maybe when numbers aren’t adding up, when your sales aren’t going the way you want it

the top of his head to the base behind, as if trying to straighten the mass of hair that

a rhetorical question,

to

find out what’s happening." He muttered, letting the

over nothing? Business was different from medicine after all. Numbers were different from chemicals. They were

trying to do here. I’m trying to find out what’s going on. As the business somehow depends on your intelligence, on your ability to spot the wrongs and right it, so do the lives of people depend on me. Don’t you get it? I bear a heavy burden of people’s lives. I’m not complaining... I love helping—but it also puts on me the need to find

Antonio murmured, though Athena wondered if

and checking the screen. About nine p.m. She had

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

with some

that her friend wouldn’t surprise her

need to leave," she stated, looking

"Is there a problem?"

visitors coming, according to Gianna...

see them too... maybe make an acquaintance... no one that knows you

sort of displaced Athena mentally for a second. What did that mean? Was

was already calling for the server, and she gave him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she was misinterpreting it. Maybe the

Gianna give you a name... you know, for the visitors?" Antonio

when he opened the door for her to slide into

you think

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

phone dinged with another message, pulling

home." The message read, causing her heart

forgotten so soon about the recap that would

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

her up from a junction, so

appearing faintly. "Oh, don’t worry.

Chapter 415: More Guests

gave greetings as she

stepped out of the car Rodney had driven, her steps hurried even though she wanted them slower—her curiosity wouldn’t pay heed to her mental instructions. Her heels clicked softly against the polished tiles, and she

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

at Aiden as she spotted him talking on the phone near the porch. He caught sight of

in there?" She exhaled in relief when

that?" she asked, tilting her

chief of security... asking questions above his paygrade,

"Do you think that he is working

shaking his head at Athena’s overactive imagination. "He is not. He has checked out clean. And that’s apart from the normal one. I did another the president wasn’t aware of. He checked out too. Don’t worry, no one is getting away under

him by the side and resting her cheek briefly against his shoulder. "How did the mission

feelings that overtook Aiden’s face then was enough to make Athena wince, her

should go inside. There’s

Again with the visitors,

mean that when Gianna had called, she

her friend must have thought she would check the info

of the porch and into the larger living room, the faint

immediately by them because they were occupying the central sofa facing the

called, her voice breaking with joy, hands opening wide, smiling with all teeth in display as her designer friend got up from

them dissolving into bouts of laughter as they disengaged, still holding each other’s

alone alerted Athena that the woman must have connected the dots, must have known her true identity—that she was the

hugged Athena tightly, not ready to let go even as

muttering it over and over, even though Athena whispered back, telling her not to apologize, that it wasn’t her fault the

her cheeks, yet the crying episode was far from over. "Maybe if I had told your grandmother about the pregnancy, about my latter suspicions of when Emily had

firmly, taking Jessica’s hands. "It’s okay, Aunt Jess. There was no

streaming, even with Athena wiping them

wanted to come, but I was scared you might

chuckled softly, shaking her head, brushing a strand of hair from Jessica’s

thought to risk your wrath." Jessica sniffed, managing a weak smile through the

good friend again, squeezing gently, seeing in her

are comfortable..." She continued, turning aside to look for her grandmother, only to stop short, struggling to keep a blank face when her gaze landed on

Antonio.

harshly for a talk outside—it wouldn’t be a good tip to Ewan, whom she could see had his

pretense or not, she didn’t know, but she

Athena was going through, Athena who was quickly scanning the room, doing a

was the usual gang, with her friends and children. Antonio was

a sigh at the thought. Antonio wasn’t the odd one out. He was her boyfriend, should be family, but... but she had told him not

her grandmother, who raised a brow knowingly. Of course the woman had

I am comfortable," she heard Jessica say again, and Athena returned her attention to the latter with

peppered her face with kisses, their little arms wrapping around

when they disengaged from the hug,

More

after many a small talk had been made amongst them. "Make a wild guess, putting

everyone’s attention, plunging the room into silence. Heads turned, curiosity sparking, and all eyes

furrowed her brows, tilting her head slightly as she accepted the question, fingers

date?"

fraction when Kathleen supplied the

should make a guess," Jessica said slowly, a thoughtful crease in her forehead,

God..." Antonio’s sharp

across their faces. His reaction caught the attention of the people

her friends, just like everyone else. She just didn’t understand how it could have

of her friends. Gianna’s was the loudest. She clapped a hand over her mouth before blurting out,

her way with a calm smile, though her eyes softened at

she asked, voice edged with puzzlement, meeting the gaze of Old Mr. Thorne who, unlike the others, had

woman who raised her picked yesterday as

nodding slowly before rendering her own apology, which had Athena rolling her

make that deduction?" Athena asked with curiosity. "Maybe

regarded her granddaughter. Athena would

that week, hence why I remembered the day," Jessica began, her voice steady, though her hands folded together

her friend, Miley... it seems there was a celebration going

room and lingered, a furrow marring her forehead as if another piece of

exchanged quick, subtle,

without her telling me, because I could hear the voices

had been pregnant, I did the math in my head, and realized she might actually be ready to give birth, because her voice was heavy, labored." Her voice broke softly, her hand pressing against

misty, and then a tear slipped out

that week," Jessica continued, her tone thick with memory, "and we lost the client. But she didn’t seem fazed by it when she texted me to take over the business for a while... she had taken leave. So, I figure that day would be Athena’s birthday. I don’t think she reached Miley’s house either before

loaded pause hung heavy

called hours later, asking after her. I was the one that informed her of my suspicions. I didn’t hear from her again about the matter, which further confirmed

turned her gaze on Athena, her expression tender. "So, you see

foster mother had made an almost excellent guess. How had she

glistening. Her attention was then grabbed when Gianna

a birthday to

hand. "The party tomorrow is enough publicity. If there will be a birthday celebration, I

I can take any more public shows. It makes

glances with Chelsea and Florence before nodding her head, her

amusement lighting her face. "Of course." She turned to Areso with a teasing grin. "You better

in mock surrender. "Your wish

Antonio’s

playfully as she winked at

uncomfortability stirred again, heat rising to her cheeks. She

finally together?" the woman continued, her tone hopeful, leaning in as though determined to catch the

feeling the heat climb higher. She

the marriage bells will soon ring..." Jessica rubbed her hands with glee, eyes sparkling, then turned her attention to Florence who wore an uncertain smile on her

sun is shining brightly on us, Aunt. I have always known those two will end up together, after a particular

Chapter 417: Go Home

voice barely carried, but

sitting in the smaller living room—the gang—joined by Antonio, who had stubbornly refused to acknowledge the subtle signals Aiden was

his eyes betrayed his irritation. The former was

his combat shorts and a black t-shirt, looking utterly at home in

The one who had refused friendship out of pride and arrogance. The one who was, in his opinion, highly incompetent with work. The one

said now, his tone casual. He wasn’t pleased with Athena frowning at him then, however—or was it confusion flickering past

He is always

brows, exchanging a quick glance with Ewan, not sure what to do with

in the room;

with her thoughts, eyes fixed on the wall ahead. She must

beds after dinner. There had been too much catching up to do. Yet, this fellow

the authority to do that, and since she wasn’t in a hurry, he resigned himself to the fate that the recap might not

her silent gesture communicating

yet?" Athena spoke then, her voice soft yet loud enough to pierce the

couple had to hold

her, his face aggrieved.

frowned, her brows knitting. "You have work

them?" he clapped back, gesturing sharply toward Ewan and

in the mood for this, but she knew she had to be clear with her boyfriend. "Let’s meet outside...

she stood to her feet, and started toward the

for a moment, but then, noting the couple of blank eyes staring at him, he scoffed under his breath and rose stiffly. None of them would be

like this? Am I not family enough? Why is he in there, and I am out here? Why is he at home with your

boyfriend’s decibels, but she clamped down the irritation

she asked evenly when his rant tapered off. "Do you

calm demeanor and tone disarmed Antonio. His tensed shoulders deflated somewhat, sagging as resignation tugged at

isn’t fair," he muttered, his voice softer

hearing the statement which had become like a mantra. She lifted her hands briefly before letting them fall. "I have told you, Antonio, that there’s nothing between Ewan and I. Don’t

beat of silence stretched between

hushed now. He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her waist, resting his forehead against hers. His