Dark Revenge Of An Unwanted Wife: The Twins Are Not Yours! - Chapter 520

Capítulo 520: At Morgan’s

The house was too still. It carried a quiet that felt wrong, as if someone had pressed mute on a life already dulled by secrecy.

Dust sat stubbornly on the edges of old furniture, and shadows clung to corners like they had grown roots. There were stubborn cobwebs on the ceilings, and the distinct smell of mold coming from everywhere.

But that’s to be expected; the owner was dead and so was its will to stay alive.

Athena moved through the silence with a small frown between her brows. She swept her flashlight across yet another drawer, yet another pointless box, yet another dead end.

Behind her, she heard Ewan shift. “Anything?” he asked.

Athena sighed. “No. Not a damn thing.”

They had been at this for hours—following the last thread Morgan had left behind when they had tortured him months ago. The necklace. The one trinket he refused to let go of until the very end.

Spider had found coordinates leading straight to this house, which should have been encouraging, but instead the search felt like chasing smoke. There was nothing here, not one that she could see.

She snapped the lid of the wooden box she was checking shut. “And this stupid thing doesn’t fit any of the boxes here,” she muttered, holding up the silver necklace. The key charm glinted dully, mocking her.

Then—warm fingers cupped her backside.

Athena froze. “Seriously?”

Ewan’s laugh was low and shameless. When she turned, he stood far too close, eyes bright in the dim room, mouth curved with that dangerous charm that had all the right to make her heart stutter.

“You looked stressed,” he murmured, completely unapologetic.

“You’re insane,” she whispered, but she didn’t step back.

His hand slid to her waist, pulling her flush against him. The familiar heat of his body eased something knotted in her chest. He kissed the bridge of her nose, soft and brief, but enough to melt her resistance.

“We are on a mission, Ewan,” she reminded, poking his chest.

“Hmm. And I can’t kiss you on a mission?”

“You can… but let my ass be. Focus.”

His grin widened. “Yes, ma’am.”

She rolled her eyes but the teasing had done its job. Moreso, he wasn’t drowning in the rage that had consumed him after they uncovered the truth about his parents’ death.

The shadows, of course, paid visits to his face sometimes, in the following days, but she had always made sure he wasn’t alone. It was either she was with him, or the twins were clinging to him.

The family too has been caring, not overly showy as to keep reminding him of the evil, but just enough to show that they cared. Chelsea even baked him a cake two days ago; and the latter hardly entered the kitchen for anything.

Athena stepped out of his hold moments later and scanned the living room again—desperate for something, anything, to justify coming here.

There was nothing… until her gaze swept across the fireplace.

Her breath snagged.

There—right on the stone frame, barely visible as cobwebs had taken centre place—was a discreet, rectangular indentation. One too small for any regular key. But perfect for—

“Ewan,” she whispered, pointing.

He followed her gaze. His eyes widened. In the next second, he grabbed her cheeks, kissed her full on the mouth, quick and deep. “Lucky charm,” he murmured against her lips.

She laughed, adrenaline already surging. “Come on!”

They hurried to the fireplace.

Athena pressed the necklace key into the slot. Nothing happened at first. The silence felt suffocating… until a soft click echoed through the room.

Then the entire interior of the fireplace shuddered—pushing backward before sliding to the left.

Dust billowed out as a small compartment revealed itself.

Inside was an old, iron-framed box.

She exchanged a look of excitement with Ewan.

He reached in, lifted the box, and set it gently on the dusty rug. The lock was identical to the necklace’s keyhole too.

Athena inserted the necklace again. Another click. The box creaked open.

They leaned over it together.

Documents. Stacks of them. Folded contracts. Letters. Receipts. Photos. Old computer printouts with timestamps decades earlier. And a diary—Morgan’s handwriting instantly recognizable.

Athena’s pulse kicked. She reached into the box and picked the diary. She flipped it open, fingers flying as she cross-referenced dates and notes.

“This is just like his other diary,” she breathed.

Ewan hovered behind her. “What’s in this one?”

“Transactions… there is one detailing a contract,” she said, lifting a stapled packet. “Between him and… code name Crayfish.”

Ewan stiffened. “Crayfish? That’s—”

“Herbert,” Athena finished. “Yeah. It’s him. But we need solid proof.”

The contract alone wasn’t enough—not in a world where enemies manipulated paper trails like playdough.

She dug deeper into the box.

More documents. Some aligned with things written in the diary. Others were completely new, days before his capture—records of transactions, coded communications, and coordinates of various drop-off sites. Each one pointed deeper into the twisted web they had been unraveling for months.

Then, at the very bottom—tucked beneath loose sheets—she found small black rectangles.

Audio chips.

“Audios,” Athena whispered.

Ewan leaned closer. “Do we have anything to play them?”

“No.” She turned the chip over. No markings, no date. “We need to get them somewhere safer. Somewhere we can scan them properly.”

They looked at each other—mutual agreement passing silently. It was time to leave.

They returned the items into the box, secured it with the necklace, and shut the hidden compartment just enough to look undisturbed. Ewan tucked the box beneath his jacket as they left the house.

Outside, the cold night air hit them.

When they reached the car, Athena slid into the passenger seat while Ewan lifted the driver’s seat cushion, slipping the box underneath.

She exhaled. “Okay. Now we go…”

“To Herbert’s,” Ewan said, turning on the ignition.

“Zane gave us access, right?”

“Yeah. His father’s traveling. Some conference.”

Athena stared out the window as they pulled out of Morgan’s driveway. Conferences every time. What was this one about? More talks on how to use or close the Grey project?

She glanced at Ewan, whose eyes stayed on the road but occasionally flicked to her. “We’re finally going to get him. We will, Ewan.”

Ewan reached over, squeezing her hand. “Yes, my love. And this time, we’ll finish it right. No more surprises. No more games.”