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

Chapter 438: Lucky

With the almost-not-there amenities this town—or was it village—boasted of, Ewan couldn’t believe that his predecessor had lived here for more than six years, since handing over the gang to him, needing to live a life void of bullets, drugs, and blood.

He wouldn’t have believed it, if not that he had been in charge of records too; the old man had refused his share of profits from the business, rather diverting it to philanthropy.

All because of a woman.

Well, didn’t he, himself, leave when he got married? Ewan questioned himself, narrowing his eyes as he looked around the town.

Wearing cream-colored shorts that stopped just above his knees, a white polo, and hiking shoes, with a beach hat resting on his back, strings tied loosely around his neck, he passed easily as a tourist. And there was the camera he wore too.

That explained why he had been accosted by the locals to take pictures of their crafts, even enticed to come look at what they considered a beach around these areas.

But Ewan had refused. He had a reason to be present in this little corner of the world.

Inhaling deeply, he took a turn from the center square—with roads leading in four directions—toward the path on his left, a bushy track that would take him to the place where his old boss lived with his young wife. A woman who had killed the latter’s taste for blood and violence. A missionary.

Ewan could scarcely believe the change that had happened in the life of the older man, even now. Shaking his head as memories of the couple’s love played in his mind—moments he had been a witness to, including their marriage—he couldn’t agree more that love did commit a multitude of changes in humanity.

Locals smiled at him as he passed, their faces open and warm. He greeted them in their language, the words rolling awkwardly but kindly from his tongue.

paused to ask him where he came from, if he had seen their rivers, their structures, their crafts. And in response,

lived. He hesitated to pass the little picket fence surrounding the

the windows and doors. The roof was low, corrugated sheets shining dull

the part of the fence meant for

about—wooden

referring to his old boss.

bare feet thumping against the wooden steps as they rushed toward the fence. They stopped short when they noticed

are you?"

no more than four years old.

out his hand for a handshake. "I am

to a third presence. His smile widened when he saw their mother standing on the porch, hands planted firmly on her hips. She was

smile didn’t even waver when the

she asked, her voice

ruffling their hair—an action to which they snorted and moved away. "Ella, it’s been a while..." he mentioned, standing before her, smile yet on

earn a

hands came around her automatically. She had been the first person to convince him to leave the

you feeling?" he

sometimes..." As she spoke, she