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.

Herbert would not be pleased if something happened to Zane, unhappier if he got to find out that they had gone on a mission to retrieve Ciara’s parents—she wasn’t sure if Zane would be able to keep the truth from his father if he came back injured.

She mumbled a prayer of protection mentally, her lips pressing together as she glanced at the time on her wristwatch. They should be rounding up the mission by now.

However, Athena looking at her watch passed the wrong message to Antonio. He frowned, his brows knitting together.

"Am I boring you? Do you want to go home?"

Athena frowned back, finally meeting his gaze. The cutlery, which had been dancing aimlessly on her plate, stilled in her hand.

"What do you mean, Antonio? I never said you were boring me."

Antonio sighed, leaning slightly away from the table and looking aside, his jaw tightening. "You act like I am. I have been the only one talking, and even then, your attention isn’t with me a hundred percent."

Athena rubbed the middle of her forehead with the tips of her fingers, wishing she could tell Antonio everything—because then he would understand. But the need not to burden him with problems, the need to obey her grandfather, triumphed over that wish.

So, she sucked on her lower lip and scooped food into her mouth thereafter, after a second of silence.

"I’m not 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 cure to the new virus..."

"It’s possible 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 working drug with them to release mayhem?"

head slowly, her eyes lowering to

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.

should be." Easier said than done. "Thanks,

work, even as she

next five minutes. She

yours? What did you do at

lucky that she had

and subtracting chemicals to the Grey virus compound,

didn’t look like he believed her. His brows arched slightly, his

decided to bite the bullet. "Okay, we invaded

"What!"

other diners, seventy percent of whom had just been to the cinema

to look, whispers starting at nearby

"Antonio, calm down."

calm down? My girlfriend went into a gang’s hideout

his voice had gone considerably lower now, his hand leaving hers

said I did

"Then what do you mean

shrugged lightly. "Members of the state security. They received

the matter too from Antonio after seeing his reaction. The last thing she

Her fingers itched to touch her phone, but she had

said we... I thought that meant you..." A

mouth with a serviette, folding it neatly and placing it

a frown, not pleased with the half-eaten food

if I knew you didn’t

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

see. So,

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

414: Being Present

worry much, than in the question she had asked Antonio; however, she was

a hunch, what alternative did he have for her

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 to be

everything was okay. That was apart from those who

his reply, to even know what he was thinking, seeing

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

better than

unrest plaguing the state?

said nothing, only staring at her with

going wrong at your workplace, maybe when numbers aren’t adding up, when your sales aren’t going the

the base behind, as if trying to straighten the mass

not a rhetorical

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

would try to find out what’s happening." He muttered, letting the matter go. He was

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

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

murmured, though Athena wondered if

the

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

with some visitors. It’s a

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

she stated, looking up from the

"Is there a problem?"

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

the table. "That’s interesting. I would love to see them too... maybe make an acquaintance... no one that knows you enough to visit is

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

the server, and she gave him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she was misinterpreting it. Maybe the statement wasn’t

you a name... you know, for the visitors?" Antonio asked as they

it’s a surprise." She thanked Antonio when he opened the door for

who do you

the mind to pick and cross out options," she answered when he stepped into

another message, pulling her eyes

read, causing her heart to palpitate

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 with

from Chelsea. I have to pick her up from

cute smile, dimples appearing faintly. "Oh, don’t worry. We can pick her up. That’s

Chapter 415: More Guests

greetings as

heed to her mental instructions. Her heels clicked softly against the polished tiles, and she clutched her bag a little tighter, breath

immediately called Rodney while walking back to the restaurant so that her

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,

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

was that?" she asked, tilting her

security... asking questions above his paygrade, wanting to know where I’ve

scoffed, folding her arms across her chest. "Do

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

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

to make Athena wince, her

slumping. "I think we should go inside. There’s a lot

Again with the visitors,

would mean that when Gianna had called, she was

her friend must have thought she would check the info out, to find

larger living room, the faint scent of

snagged immediately by them because they were occupying the central sofa facing the entrance directly: it was

opening wide, smiling with all teeth in display as her designer friend got up from her

whispered in her ears, both of them dissolving into bouts of laughter as they disengaged,

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

ready to let go even as

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

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

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

even with Athena wiping them off

to come, but I was scared you might

chuckled softly, shaking her head, brushing a strand of hair

invited me to the party happening tomorrow, and I thought to risk your wrath." Jessica sniffed,

gently, seeing in

stop short, struggling to keep a blank face when her gaze landed on who was

Antonio.

back, resisting the urge to call him out harshly for a talk outside—it wouldn’t be a good

or not, she didn’t know, but she was suddenly uncomfortable, her

am comfortable," Jessica answered beside her, unaware of the turmoil Athena was going through, Athena who was quickly scanning the room, doing a check of

friends and children. Antonio was the odd one

Antonio wasn’t the odd one out. He was her boyfriend, should be family, but... but

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

returned her attention to the latter with a quick smile. "I’m

her friends, and finally fell to her knees to hug her children who peppered her face with kisses, their little arms wrapping around her neck. She laughed through the affection, willfully keeping her eyes from straying again in the direction of Antonio

disengaged from the hug, brushing

More Guests

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

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

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

today’s date?" she

a fraction when Kathleen supplied the answer happily, like she had just solved a

thoughtful crease in her forehead, "then your birthday

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

of the people next to him, got them wondering—everyone except Athena, who already

She just didn’t understand how it

the loudest. She clapped a hand over her mouth before blurting

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

on?" she asked, voice edged with puzzlement, meeting the gaze of Old Mr. Thorne who, unlike the others, had not joined in the

woman who raised her picked yesterday as her birthday...

a small smile, nodding slowly before rendering her own apology, which had Athena

make that deduction?" Athena asked with curiosity. "Maybe then these busy people here will have a

her lips curving as she regarded her granddaughter. Athena

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

Miley... it seems there

room and lingered, a furrow marring her forehead as if

exchanged quick, subtle, surprised glances

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

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, I quickly ended the call, not wanting to

then a tear slipped out

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

pause hung heavy in the

Jessica added softly, "Miley called hours later, asking after her. I was the one that informed her of my suspicions. I didn’t hear from

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

had made an almost excellent guess. How had she been able to

of the latter, her eyes glistening. Her attention was then grabbed when Gianna screamed happily and

have a birthday to plan!

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

think I can take any more public shows.

glances with Chelsea and Florence before nodding her head, her dramatic pout easing. "Done. But

amusement lighting her face. "Of course." She turned to Areso with a teasing grin. "You better compensate me with a dress from your latest

mock surrender. "Your wish is my

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

is there something I should know?" Jessica asked suddenly, her eyes narrowing playfully as she winked at Athena, then at

again, heat rising to her cheeks. She had forgotten the poking-nose quality

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

than intended, feeling the heat climb

glee, eyes sparkling, then turned her attention to Florence who wore an uncertain

two will

Chapter 417: Go Home

softly. Her voice barely carried, but the question hung heavily in

stubbornly refused to acknowledge the subtle signals Aiden was giving

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

a black t-shirt, looking utterly at home in the mansion. Too at home. Antonio wasn’t

out of pride and arrogance. The one who was, in his opinion, highly incompetent with work. The one who shouldn’t be occupying such a high seat in a legacy, unworthy, except that he bore

with Athena frowning at him then, however—or was it confusion flickering past her eyes when she

he? He is

glance with Ewan, not sure what to do with this sudden

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

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

send everyone off to their beds after dinner. There had been

reclined deeper into his sofa. That would be disrespectful to his granddaughter. Only she had the authority to do that,

squeezed his hand, her silent gesture communicating that she felt the same

aren’t you going yet?" Athena spoke then, her voice soft yet loud enough

had to hold back a sigh

head snapped toward her, his face

"You

what about them?" he clapped back, gesturing sharply toward Ewan and Sandro. His

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

she stood to her feet, and started toward the exit without waiting

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 on his side, after

his exasperation. "What is going on, Athena? Why are you always keeping me outside matters like this? Am I not family enough? Why is he in there, and I am out here? Why is he at

the irritation and annoyance bubbling within her. Instead, she sought

done?" she asked evenly when his rant tapered off. "Do you have something else to add? Some

calm demeanor and tone disarmed Antonio. His tensed

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

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

beat of silence

her waist, resting his forehead against hers. His breath was warm, shaky. "I... I just

her sides. "He will be here on most nights, to take care of

he backed away sharply, the warmth replaced with

Gianna? What about..." His voice rose, his eyes

You too are busy—you return very late at night, courtesy of your job. And that’s okay.

off. "Busier than

makes time

slapped. His face contorted, disbelief shining within his eyes. "So, I’m not available? Where was he those years

let this go. It has been settled. The kids are okay with him too. He is their

as he covered the distance between them again, his hands fisting tightly at

of the heat that threatened to consume her. "You are

he gets

her head firmly. "My days will be spent at

Chapter 417: Go Home

softly. Her voice barely carried, but the

who had stubbornly refused to acknowledge the subtle signals Aiden was giving him to

feigning ease, but his eyes betrayed his irritation. The former was rendered even more curious, especially

in his combat shorts and a black t-shirt, looking utterly at home in the mansion. Too at

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 who was, in his opinion, highly incompetent with work. The one who shouldn’t be occupying such a high seat in

Athena frowning at him then, however—or was it confusion flickering past her

he? He is

with Ewan, not sure what to do with this

quietly. He was no stranger to the budding tension in the room; and as much as

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

send everyone off to their beds after dinner. There had been too much catching

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 that the recap might not be

his hand, her silent gesture communicating that

then, her voice soft

couple had to hold back a

snapped toward her, his face aggrieved.

brows knitting. "You have

he clapped back, gesturing sharply toward Ewan and Sandro.

had to be clear with her boyfriend. "Let’s