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.

did little to quench the thirst that seemed to burn from

said, her voice dropping to a hushed tone. “You’re at a private residence. Mrs. Lockhart – “Charlotte’s breath hitched. Teresa.” – insisted you needed a quiet place to recover,” Roni

wherever ‘here’ was. The throbbing in her abdomen felt… different. It wasn’t like a regular period cramp. But what

the sound. “How are you feeling?”

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

said softly. “The will be here soon

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

right. Miss Teresa is indeed hiding Charlotte Lockhart. She’s currently in a small private property

time when Alexander said it was a trap. As for who? Josef doesn’t

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Chapter 103

trap for Charlotte. But… what if it was

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

from the documents that

a facility just

“Facility?”

to send him abroad as soon as he calms

us go see him.”

–

of personality, mocked Daniel with their emptiness. A single, barred window offered a sliver of a view a scraggly patch of untended grass

rickety chair bolted to the

a piece of paper. It wasn’t the fanciest instrument, but it was his weapon of choice in

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

paper, the graphite etching a desperate plea into the sterile surface. The song poured out of him, raw and unrefined. Sofia liked writing songs. Surely, reading what he wrote would

is that

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