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.

a mission to retrieve Ciara’s parents—she wasn’t

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

looking at her watch passed the wrong message to Antonio.

boring you? Do you want to

frowned back, finally meeting his gaze. The cutlery, which had been

you mean, Antonio? I never said

his jaw tightening. "You act like I am. I have been the only one talking, and

tips of her fingers, wishing she could tell Antonio everything—because then he would understand.

lip and scooped food into her mouth thereafter,

state, or will soon be. You should understand my place in the situation of things... I have

had upended their plans. You should think about the positives only. Or did you find something else to prove that they

her head slowly, her eyes lowering to

hand, engulfing her soft hand with his warm, steady one. "Quit worrying

Easier said than

mouth, but even as she did so, even as she tried to focus on Antonio talking about his day at work, even as she tried to forcefully take spoonfuls of food so as not to trigger Antonio’s questions again,

he had informed her they would be going into position in the next five minutes. She had wished him well before returning to her task. But now, she was wondering why she hadn’t called him.

tell me about yours? What did you do at the lab

herself lucky that she had

working with my hunch... adding and subtracting chemicals to

her. His brows arched slightly, his lips pressing in a

to bite the bullet. "Okay, we invaded a certain hideout of

"What!"

percent of whom had just been to the cinema

few turned to look,

"Antonio, calm down."

down? How can I calm down? My girlfriend

his hand leaving hers

said I

you mean

lightly. "Members of the state security.

drastic decision to keep the matter too from Antonio after seeing his reaction. The last thing she needed tonight was to feel the need to defend her actions,

to touch her phone, but she had kept from reaching for it because then Antonio would get curious if she turned away to

his features. "When you said we...

from a glass cup, taking deliberate, careful sips. She cleaned her mouth with a serviette, folding it neatly and placing it beside her plate before resting her hands on her

a frown, not

would have ordered something else if I

her head lightly, strands of hair falling forward. "Being in the lab had

nodded slowly. "I see.

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

414: Being

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

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

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

those who had approached her after the movies... and her

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

had passed. Her tone was soft, but carried an edge of impatience. "What do you think I

will be better than spending hours on

the unrest plaguing the state? Is that what you are suggesting? That’s your

her with furrowed brows, like he couldn’t understand why she

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

swallowed and ran his hand from the top of his head to the base behind, as if

not a rhetorical question,

the sarcastic tilt to ’darling.’ His lips pressed thin, his

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

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

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

though Athena wondered if he

sighed, reaching for her phone and checking the screen. About nine p.m. She had

me" to Antonio when she saw it was from Gianna, and picked up

home with some visitors. It’s a

frown, not sure what to make of the message. But knowing that her friend wouldn’t surprise

stated, looking up from the

"Is there a problem?"

"I have visitors coming, according to Gianna... need to

love to see them too... maybe make an acquaintance...

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

gave him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she was misinterpreting it. Maybe the statement

visitors?" Antonio asked as they walked out of

Antonio when he opened the door for her to slide into

do you think

her bag on her lap. "I don’t know really. I haven’t the mind to pick and cross out options,"

phone dinged with another message, pulling her eyes back to it.

message read, causing her heart to palpitate both with relief

How could she have forgotten so soon about the recap that

her mind racing as Antonio started the car, prepping her tongue

Chelsea. I have to pick her up from a junction, so

gave her a cute smile, dimples appearing faintly. "Oh, don’t worry. We can

Chapter 415: More Guests

greetings as she entered into the

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

her driver would find it easier to spot her in the throng of

Aiden as she spotted him talking on the phone near the porch. He caught sight of her, his lips still moving in conversation, and beckoned her over with

forward slightly when she arrived, mouthing, "Everyone is in there?" She exhaled in relief when Aiden nodded, just

that?" she asked, tilting

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

scoffed, folding her arms across her chest. "Do you think that

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.

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

that overtook Aiden’s face then was enough to make Athena wince, her heart dropping to her stomach. She reached for his arm,

inside. There’s a lot to talk about, that’s after dealing with

Again with the visitors,

would mean that when Gianna had called, she was already close

thought she would check the info out, to find out the identity of the visitors, hence

the porch and into the larger living room, the

lips when she saw the visitors, her attention snagged immediately by them

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

both of them dissolving into bouts of laughter as they disengaged, still

up was Areso’s mother, Jessica, who already had tears streaming down her eyes. The sight alone alerted Athena that the woman must have connected the dots, must have known her true identity—that she

let go even as

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

dabbing at 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 given

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

even with Athena wiping

I found out, I wanted to come, but I was scared

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

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

hugged the mother of her good friend again, squeezing gently, seeing

grandmother, only to stop short, struggling to keep a blank face when her gaze

Antonio.

she instinctively stepped back, resisting the urge to call him out harshly for a talk outside—it wouldn’t be a good tip to Ewan, whom she could see had his

didn’t know, but she

I am comfortable," Jessica answered beside her, unaware of the turmoil Athena was going through, Athena who was quickly scanning

and children. Antonio was the

one out. He was her boyfriend, should be family, but... but she had told him

winked at her grandmother, who raised a brow knowingly. Of course the woman had detected the one-second distress shown

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

with kisses, their little arms

she asked her little ones when they disengaged from

More

you think is Athena’s birthday?" Sandro asked, after many a small talk had been

the room into silence. Heads turned, curiosity sparking, and all eyes landed on

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

today’s date?" she

supplied the answer happily, like she had just solved

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

God..." Antonio’s sharp gasp broke the

faces. His reaction caught the attention of the people next to him, got

everyone else. She just didn’t understand how it could have happened,

clapped a

hand gently, waving off the apologies coming her way with a calm smile, though her eyes

asked, voice edged with puzzlement,

he said with measured calm, "the woman who raised her picked yesterday as her

small smile, nodding slowly before rendering

that deduction?" Athena asked with curiosity. "Maybe then these busy

her head with a chuckle, her lips curving as she regarded her granddaughter. Athena would not let any of them live down this

important client coming that week, hence why I remembered the day," Jessica began, her

going to see her friend, Miley... it seems there

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

exchanged quick, subtle,

was planned that she would return in time for the coming of the client. So, on the fateful day I called, around noon, she was in the hospital... I knew, even without her telling me, because I could hear the voices of nurses, with one talking to another about a doctor’s report." Jessica paused, her chest rising and falling as though the memory carried

seeing that she 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 her chest. "Out of excitement,

then a tear

didn’t come back 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

loaded pause hung

was the one that informed her of my suspicions. I didn’t hear from her again about the matter, which

on Athena, her expression tender. "So, you see why I think you were

was right—her foster mother had made an almost excellent guess. How had she been able

Her attention was then grabbed when Gianna screamed happily

birthday to plan!

party tomorrow is enough publicity. If

I can take any more public shows. It

and Florence before nodding her head, her dramatic

turned to Areso with a teasing grin. "You better compensate me with a dress from your

in mock surrender.

words extracted laughs from everyone present—light, genuine laughter that eased the tension, though Antonio’s laugh came out nervous, betraying how stupid he still felt for forgetting

something I should know?" Jessica asked suddenly, her eyes narrowing playfully

again, heat rising to her cheeks. She had forgotten

woman continued, her tone hopeful, leaning in as though determined to

Athena answered meekly, her voice smaller than intended, feeling the heat

Jessica rubbed her hands with glee, eyes sparkling, then turned her attention to Florence

sun is shining brightly on us, Aunt. I have always known those two will

Chapter 417: Go Home

Her voice barely carried, but the question hung heavily

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

his eyes betrayed his irritation. The former was rendered even more curious, especially with the bandage he

black t-shirt, looking utterly at

lot of questions—too many—including the one he had just overheard Athena ask Sandro. Where was his boss’ infamous son? The one who had refused friendship out of pride and arrogance. The one

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

He is always

what to do with this sudden interest. "He is fine," he

to the budding tension in the room; and as much as Antonio was his granddaughter’s fiancé, his presence here

but she was rather besotted with her thoughts, eyes fixed on the wall ahead.

send everyone off to their beds after dinner. There had been too much catching up to do. Yet, this fellow here was proving

reclined deeper into his sofa. That would be disrespectful to his granddaughter. Only she had the authority to do that, and since she wasn’t in a hurry, he resigned himself to the fate

her silent gesture communicating that she felt

voice soft yet loud enough

Thorne couple had to hold back

toward her, his face

her brows knitting. "You

back, gesturing sharply toward Ewan and Sandro. His hand cut through the air. "Or do they live

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

stood to her feet, and started toward the exit without waiting to see if he would

a moment, but then, noting the couple of blank eyes staring at him, he scoffed

under the dim light of the corridor, he barely contained his exasperation. "What is going on, Athena? Why are you always keeping me outside matters like this? Am I not

rang with the weight of her boyfriend’s decibels, but she clamped down the irritation and annoyance bubbling within her. Instead,

tapered

tone disarmed Antonio. His tensed shoulders deflated somewhat, sagging as resignation tugged

you do, Athena, isn’t fair," he muttered, his voice softer but still bitter. "It’s like you both are still

briefly before letting them fall. "I have told you,

beat of silence

her waist, resting his