Mr. Chairman’s Devious Wife by Brey Mitchylle

Chapter 103

Discomfort settled heavily over Charlotte as consciousness crept back, slow and reluctant. It wasn’t the sterile antiseptic kind – the kind that stole your breath and told you something was terribly wrong.

This was a deeper, more suffocating kind of unease, a feeling of being utterly out of place.

Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing an unfamiliar room. White walls, yes, but not the stark, institutional white of a hospital. These walls were adorned with swirling floral patterns, the kind that belonged in a grandma’s guest room, not a medical facility. Panic, cold and sharp, clawed at her throat. Where was she?

She tried to sit up, but a dull ache throbbed in her lower abdomen, anchoring her to the bed. A wave of nausea washed over her, and she squeezed her eyes shut, willing it to pass. When it did, a horrifying memory jolted back – the fight, the fall, the searing pain that had ripped through her like a fist.

Unease gnawed at her. The fall. Was that all? It felt like more, a dull ache that pulsed with a strange rhythm. But the memories were hazy, fragmented.

A faint scent of lavender oil wafted through the air, cloying and somehow suffocating. She hated lavender. It was Daniel’s favorite scent, the kind he used on his aftershave, the kind that lingered on their sheets after a night together.

The sound of a door creaking open made her head snap towards the source. A woman stood framed in the doorway. It was someone she didn’t recognize.

“I’m glad you’re awake,” the woman spoke, her voice gentle. She moved closer, concern etched on her face. Her name tag read ‘Roni,’ the friendly script a stark contrast to the cold, clinical setting Charlotte had expected.

Roni reached over and carefully fluffed the pillows behind Charlotte’s head. “Here, let me help you sit up a bit.” Her touch was surprisingly light, devoid of the rough urgency she might have encountered in a hospital.

Charlotte leaned back against the pillows, wincing as the ache in her

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Chapter 103

abdomen intensified. Roni held a glass of water to her lips, her

expression softening further. “Slow sips,” she murmured.

but did little to quench the thirst that seemed to burn from within. As she lowered the

tone. “You’re at a private residence. Mrs. Lockhart – “Charlotte’s breath hitched. Teresa.” – insisted you needed a

escaped Charlotte’s lips. Concerned? Teresa was the reason she was here, wherever ‘here’ was. The throbbing in her abdomen felt… different. It wasn’t like

sound. “How are you

mind was a tangled mess of confusion and unease. The fall, the pain, Teresa’s unsettling presence – it all combined into a thick fog that

here soon to check on you. I really apologize for your loss,

of what happened filled her head. The fall. Teresa pushed her and she saw…. Blood. Blood… The sound of her

hiding Charlotte Lockhart. She’s currently in a small private property near Alaska. According to our sources, she lost the

Alexander said it was

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Chapter 103

for Charlotte. But… what if it was for Teresa?

for some unknown reason, he could never figure out Alexander’s

without saying a word. Then he lifted his gaze away from the documents that he was reading. “Where is Daniel now?” he

a

“Facility?”

It seems that she’s planning to send him abroad

let us go

–

emptiness. A single, barred window offered a sliver of a view a scraggly patch of untended grass and a skeletal tree, its branches clawing at the

a rickety chair bolted to the flo a

pencil clutched in his hand with a piece of paper. It wasn’t the fanciest instrument, but it was his weapon of choice in this battle against the suffocating

he disliked in the past, flowed through him, a

a desperate plea into the sterile surface. The song poured out of him, raw and

that

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