Dark Revenge Of An Unwanted Wife: The Twins Are Not Yours! - Chapter 488

Chapter 488: Night Talks II

“I understand it was a ghastly sight you saw, Athena… I know that it felt like an old wound was being ripped off, but to prevent decisions that might be regretted later, it’s better to do adequate research before conclusions…”

Florence paused, watching her granddaughter with eyes laden with love and kindness. Letting go of her husband’s hand, she got to her feet and walked over to her granddaughter on the bed.

A tired Athena made space, welcoming the side embrace of her grandmother, resting her head on the latter’s shoulder, open to the conversation only because she was just too tired to argue. Hence, her ears were wide open to listen.

“Do you remember what happened when you and Ewan first separated…”

Athena’s nod was barely perceptible.

“Did you remember Ewan issued a divorce? He received pictures about you and Lucas… incriminating… and acted on it without listening to you. How did you feel then?”

Athena paused, her lips pressing into a thin line. It had felt like hell. She had felt all shades of anger, foolishness, and disappointment at the same time.

And she didn’t feel good knowing she was on the other end of the spectrum now.

“That was different. And do you know I received pictures from Fiona too, then…” she paused, blinking tiredly. “Why is he always in that position? Why save damsels in distress? Didn’t you see he was naked in the pictures?” she asked, knowing that her grandfather had made the adequate research.

“The pictures were a fake, Athena,” Areso muttered, smiling sadly at her friend. “Spider confirmed it.”

Athena had the energy then to scoff, to get away from her grandmother’s shoulder and spit, “Of course, he will cover his friend!”

Old Mr. Thorne sighed deeply. “We checked. Aiden too. It is a fake. You would have easily spotted it if you had at least looked. It was quite glaring. I think Victoria banked on that… and won.”

Athena was familiar with the firmness in her grandfather’s eyes, but she didn’t see the day coming when she would be the one under its gaze.

“But…”

Chelsea handed her an envelope. “It’s the pictures. We had it printed.”

Athena’s hands shook as she collected the brown envelope, her mind wheels running wild. Fiona’s had been real at least, and so were the pictures with Lucas. But if her family was right, then she had been played a fool by someone she had called dumb.

“Damn…” she cursed, fingers gripping the pictures tightly when she saw the discrepancies — the work of a computer, of a good computerist.

Oh my… she mused, feeling suddenly ashamed.

“Athena…”

“I saw him kiss her. What’s the explanation for that?” she asked, grasping for the other reality, her eyes flashing, shame receding to the background.

“It was a planned affair,” Gianna said softly, aware that her best friend was unravelling with every truth. “We caught it on camera. Somehow, she had known you were coming upstairs… we saw her take a call, the receptionist downstairs…”

Athena cursed again, remembering the lady who had looked at her with awe. Why would she be working with Victoria? To what end?

“The lady was innocent, though. She informed us, when we called on her, that Victoria had asked her to inform her when you came to the company.”

Athena frowned. “How did she know I was coming?”

Chelsea shrugged. “That’s what we don’t know. But after she informed Victoria, the witch went to Ewan’s office, under the pretense of giving him a document…”

She pursed her lips and handed Athena her phone. “Check out the CCTV footage. It’s why I called it a planned affair.”

Athena inhaled deeply, accepting the evidence, tapping the play button.

She saw when Victoria stepped into the office, when the witch submitted a document to Ewan to go through — an Ewan who was standing, looking through the window, on a call.

She saw when Victoria carried the document around the table instead of just leaving the office. Saw when Ewan turned to talk to her, maybe to keep the document on the table before returning to the call and his view.

She saw when Victoria threw an amused glance at the door before turning and grasping Ewan’s arm, pulling him aside in a quick move; before placing her lips on that of a startled annoyed Ewan before he could say jack — and that was the moment the door opened.

Athena shut her eyes. Her chest rose and fell sharply. This could have been resolved with checking the footage, with her studying the pictures well, but she had let her emotions drive her.

“Don’t blame yourself,” she heard her grandmother say gently.

But how couldn’t she? Even though Ewan had hurt her in the past, he had been great — more than great — since they called a truce, even saving her life more than once, at the cost of his.

He had been a gentlemanly lover. And she had thrown him aside at the first sign of trouble, which meant she didn’t trust him.

Doctor Damian had been right when he said she had to deal with the past, not think she had dealt with it.

The words echoed in her mind now — like a mantra and a curse.

Therapy, she had once thought, was for weak people who couldn’t handle their emotions. But now, she understood — therapy was for the strong, for those willing to confront their ghosts instead of burying them alive inside.

Because ignoring pain didn’t make it disappear. It only waited — lurking — until a moment like this, to explode and destroy everything one loved.

Her throat tightened painfully. She pressed a trembling hand over her face.

This was why people went to therapy — to unlearn the instinct to destroy before they were hurt, to stop replaying the same tragedies in different costumes.

“It was clear, and I had…” her mind, wickedly, conjured the image of Ewan lying under the rain, pale in the face. She had almost killed him.

And why? Because of Victoria, who was grasping at straws after Cedric broke their engagement publicly.

It had come to light when she had checked out Victoria, contemptuously, wanting to know what Ewan actually saw in Cedric’s fiancée.

“Athena…”

“I’m sorry,” she said to her grandfather, handing Chelsea back her phone.

Old Mr. Thorne waved it away gently. “As I mentioned earlier, I understand… the need for revenge… what it means to be hurt…”

He looked at his wife and sighed, a mix of exhaustion and understanding crossing his face. “Maybe she would explain better.”

Read Gianna and Zane’s story in Dark revenge of a Jilted Bride!