Dark Revenge Of An Unwanted Wife: The Twins Are Not Yours! - Chapter 472

Chapter 472: Comfort II

“How are you feeling?”

Athena’s voice was soft but threaded with relief.

Spider turned toward her from the bed, a wide grin splitting his face. He was sitting upright, shoulders straight, eyes bright—as though he hadn’t nearly walked away from death itself just days ago.

His color was back, his lips no longer pale, and there was a spark, one that she could conclude made him Spider, that and the familiarity she couldn’t just understand.

“I feel like a man who got a second chance,” he said, smiling. “Thanks to you.”

Athena smiled back. “And to Ewan,” she added, glancing briefly at the man standing a few feet away.

Ewan’s presence was steady, grounded—and yet when he stepped closer, something inside her fluttered.

The memory of last night came rushing back before she could stop it: his lips, warm and insistent against hers, the quiet sighs between them, and the way he had pulled away, apologizing as though the kiss had been wrong when it had felt so heartbreakingly right.

She still felt that kiss—in her pulse, in her breath, in every stolen glance she dared in his direction. She blushed now.

Spider noticed it immediately. His brow lifted subtly as his gaze shifted between them, curiosity glinting in his eyes. Whatever he’d missed while recovering clearly intrigued him.

“I have a feeling,” Spider said teasingly, “that something interesting happened while I was unconscious.”

Athena laughed nervously, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “You missed nothing worth mentioning, well apart from the recent updates on the Grey virus…” she murmured.

But her mind betrayed her again.

Hours ago, after that first kiss had left them both breathless; after Ewan had drawn back, his eyes still dark and hungry but full of conflict; after he had whispered an apology, she’d almost asked him for what—almost begged him to keep going, to erase every trace of Antonio’s betrayal from her skin and memory.

Instead, she’d swallowed her pride and changed the subject.

They’d ended up sitting together on the sofa, side by side, the air still thick with what hadn’t been said. He’d nudged the forgotten gift box toward her, and together they’d opened it.

Inside were things that had made her forget the hurt of the night:

A collection of her favorite author’s signed books, each wrapped carefully in soft paper. A stunning Areso gown—delicate silk in twilight blue, hand-embroidered with silver threads that shimmered like moonlight. A perfume set she had once admired in passing months ago. And tucked beneath it all, a silver bracelet engraved with her initials.

He always did remember everything.

“You think everything is perfect?” he’d asked quietly then, watching her expression.

She had only nodded, her tongue suddenly heavy.

“Good as news,” he’d said softly, then leaned in to kiss her again—this one reverent, like a promise rather than a question.

She hadn’t trusted her voice afterward; she’d only risen to her feet, ignoring the way his eyes followed her, opened the door and wished him goodnight, not trusting herself.

Now, she pushed those memories down, forcing a composed smile. “I’m glad you are okay,” she said to Spider, adjusting the blanket. “The family’s waiting for you downstairs. They’ll be happy to see you up.”

Spider groaned playfully as he removed the drip from his arm. “I think I already woke the whole house,” he muttered, glancing guiltily toward the door.

His earlier shout had, in fact, jolted everyone awake at dawn. He had mistakenly jammed the drip-needle slotted into his hand.

Athena chuckled. “They’re just glad you’re alive.”

She all but ran out of the room, squirmy under Ewan’s gaze. And yet, he followed her into the hallway…

He caught her automatically, his hand closing gently around her arm. “Athena,” he murmured, his voice low, still rough with sleep.

Athena’s heart tripped. She turned to him, pretending composure, but her body betrayed her. She yielded to his closeness without meaning to—the shape of him fitting against her like it always had, familiar and dangerous all at once.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, eyes searching hers.

She nodded. “I did.”

“Did you think about him?”

Her breath caught.

He didn’t say Antonio’s name, but he didn’t need to. The way his voice dipped, edged with something possessive, made her heart stumble.

She should have said yes—that she had thought of Antonio, that he still lingered somewhere in her mind. But that would have been a lie. She hadn’t thought of Antonio at all.

Silence filled the space between them. Their breathing deepened. Her pulse fluttered at the base of her throat.

Before anything else could happen, a sharp voice sliced through the quiet.

“What in the world am I walking into?”

Gianna.

She stood at the end of the hallway, eyebrows raised to her hairline, eyes flicking between them. Her expression screamed suspicion and a touch of amusement.

Ewan muttered something under his breath—something wholly unintelligible—and stepped back quickly, brushing past Athena before disappearing into Spider’s room.

Gianna’s lips curved into a knowing smirk. “Well,” she said, crossing her arms. “That looked cozy.”

Athena sighed. “It’s not what you think.”

“Oh, it never is,” Gianna teased. “Except when it absolutely is.”

Athena shot her a warning look, but her cheeks had already betrayed her, coloring with warmth.

Gianna’s smirk deepened. “Athena, you’re engaged to Antonio—”

“Not anymore.”

The sharpness in Athena’s tone silenced her friend.

“What?” Gianna blinked, confused.

Athena lifted her left hand. The bare finger said everything.

Gianna’s eyes widened. “You broke it off?”

Before Athena could answer, Chelsea and Areso joined them, drawn by the noise in the hallway.

“Broke what off?” Chelsea asked, eyes darting between them.

“My engagement,” Athena said simply, lowering her hand.

It took a few seconds for the words to sink in. Then came the explosion.

“What?” Chelsea gasped.

“You’re joking,” Areso said.

Athena exhaled and told them everything—the confrontation with Antonio, the manipulation, the revelation that he’d tried to trap her. Every word tasted bitter, but she told it all, from the betrayal to the sickness of realizing just how far he’d gone.

By the time she was done, the three women were silent. Then the silence broke into fury.

Gianna’s eyes darkened. “I’ll kill him.”

Chelsea folded her arms. “No, I’ll kill him. You can hold him down.”

Areso, always the composed one, said through gritted teeth, “He’s lucky I wasn’t there.”

Their words carried them down the stairs as they walked toward the living room, anger spilling in waves.

Florence was there when they entered, seated gracefully on the couch with a cup of tea, but her keen eyes noticed their stormy faces instantly.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, setting the cup down.

Before Athena could answer, Gianna blurted, “Antonio is a snake.”

Florence blinked, taken aback.

Athena sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Gianna—”

“She’s telling the truth,” Chelsea cut in. “The man tricked her, Florence. Tried to get her pregnant on purpose, without her knowledge… Who does that?”

The matriarch’s expression turned thunderous. “He what?”

Old Mr. Thorne was just as speechless. And furious.

The room buzzed with curses and threats from there, until the sound of small feet and laughter filtered into the room, quenching it.

Nathaniel came first, carried proudly by his father, with Kathleen clinging to his neck, giggling. While Spider followed behind, looking healthy and amused, though still pale from recovery.