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.

throat but did little to quench the thirst that

Mrs. Lockhart – “Charlotte’s breath hitched. Teresa.” – insisted you needed a quiet place to recover,” Roni continued, oblivious to Charlotte’s silent panic. “She’s very concerned about you.”

Concerned? Teresa was the reason she was here, wherever ‘here’ was. The throbbing in her abdomen felt… different.

you feeling?” she asked, her brow furrowing

opened her mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. Her 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

she said softly. “The will be here soon to check on you. I really apologize for your loss, M Lockhart.”

The fall. Teresa pushed her and

currently in a small private property near Alaska. According to our sources, she lost the child,”

time when Alexander said it was a trap. As for

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Chapter 103

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

smart yet for some unknown reason, he could

gaze away from the documents

him to a

“Facility?”

institution. It seems that she’s planning to send him

“Then let us go see him.”

–

a view a scraggly patch of untended grass and a skeletal tree, its branches clawing at

only furniture was a metal cot, a rickety chair bolted to

pencil clutched in his hand with a piece of paper. It wasn’t the fanciest instrument, but

a desperate attempt to connect with something, anything, beyond these four walls.

the name a melody on his lips. He scrawled it across the worn paper, the graphite etching a desperate plea into the sterile surface. The song poured out of him, raw and unrefined. Sofia liked writing songs.

that

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