Dark Revenge Of An Unwanted Wife: The Twins Are Not Yours! - Chapter 531

Capítulo 531: Survivors

The first thing Athena heard was a gentle beeping.

It echoed strangely in her skull, threading itself through the fog of unconsciousness until awareness slowly tugged her upward.

For a few disoriented seconds, she wasn’t sure if she was dreaming. Her eyes were still shut, heavy, almost glued together. She lay still, breathing shallowly, listening.

Where… am I?

The beeping continued—steady, mechanical, too clean and too calm to belong anywhere near the horror she remembered.

A strange, impossible thought drifted through her mind.

Was she in heaven?

She almost snorted. It was absurd. She didn’t feel like she was floating through pearly gates or wrapped in angelic warmth. She felt… grounded. Heavy. Mortal.

Yet confusion thickened inside her as she tried to remember. Her mind, sluggish from sleep, searched for answers. The memories came slowly at first—blurry shadows, muffled voices, firelight, the smell of gas, boiling water…

Boiling water.

Suddenly everything sharpened.

Her breath seized as the memories poured back in full, brutal clarity.

She had been thrown into a tub of boiling water. She should be burned. Scalded. Scarred beyond recognition. She should be—

She gasped, heart pounding wildly beneath the thin hospital gown.

Her hands. She could feel her hands.

She flexed her fingers instinctively. Air brushed against her skin, warm and gentle. The sheets beneath her were soft. And she could feel her feet too—nothing felt numb, nothing felt damaged.

A hysterical laugh bubbled up her throat. Had the kidnapping been a dream?

It couldn’t be. Nothing that vivid, that terrifying, could be anything but real. She remembered the screams, the pain, the smoke, the moment before her world went black…

Then she remembered Ewan.

Her eyes snapped open.

Not only because she realized he was supposed to be thrown in immediately after her… But because she remembered him.

Him from before. From long, long ago. From when they were little.

Her old memories—those fragmented pieces of her childhood that had been missing for so many years—were suddenly whole again. All of them. Not hazy. Not scattered.

And with them came a tidal wave of longing so fierce it nearly crushed her chest.

She sat up sharply. So sharply that she startled herself.

She expected pain. Expected her body to scream in protest. Expected her skin to feel tight or burned. But there was nothing.

Only mild stiffness. A weak ache.

“How long…?” she whispered into the quiet room.

Her gaze swept over her arms—smooth, unscarred. Her legs were the same. Her torso was undamaged. She touched her cheek. Her stomach. Her neck.

Why wasn’t she burned? She queried again.

Had they performed surgery? Skin grafts? Some miracle medical procedure?

She tugged the drip lines off her hands with shaky fingers, wincing only from the tug of the adhesive. The moment she was free, her thoughts drifted back to childhood—unbidden, but warm.

Fiona.

Ewan.

Their beautiful friendship—bright and golden now that she could see it clearly. She remembered seeing them the first time, and remembered wandering here and there.

Remembered that Fiona had been her closest friend first, before Ewan became the center of her tiny world. She remembered Fiona talking about the river even before Ewan later took her there.

She remembered laughter. Innocent fights. Shared secrets. And she understood why her heart had been soft toward Fiona when the latter had turned a new leaf. And she was happy that she had let her old friend go.

She remembered the fisherman who had saved her from the deep angry river, when it had washed her ashore. She knew the vague face now appearing in her memories was him, because she remembered drifting in and out of consciousness when he tended to her in his hut.

She remembered wandering out of the hut, curiosity propelling her to see the world outside the small home. Remembered hitting her head on a rock when she tripped over a climber in the forest.

And then, blank… The next memory was being picked by people who knew her parents.

Athena’s eyes welled up. She swung her legs over the bed and stood.

She didn’t sway. She didn’t fall. In fact, she felt… strong. Too strong.

She took a slow, deep breath. Her lungs expanded fully, stinging slightly from disuse but otherwise steady.Only her back ached faintly, like she had been lying down too long.

“How long have I been out…?”

Where was Ewan? Where was her grandfather?

Did he survive the gunshots? Did he bleed out in that horrible room?

Questions filled her mind like a rising tide. None came with answers.

Across the room, a tall mirror stood silently. She walked toward it, half afraid of what she would see. Maybe they had really done plastic surgery.

But her reflection stared back—still herself. She exhaled shakily.

Her thoughts darkened. Herbert. Antonio. Monsters wearing human skins.

And Zane—

What about him? Had he been captured? Or was he still hiding behind his father’s cruelty?

On the bedside table, she noticed a phone. She reached for it slowly. The wallpaper blinked awake.

Kathleen’s pouty face filled the screen.

Athena’s heart dropped and lifted at the same time. It was Kathleen’s phone. Which meant her daughter was safe. Close.

She unlocked it easily and checked the date.

Her heart stuttered. Fourteen days after the day she was kidnapped.

Which meant… she had been unconscious for more than a week.

She looked around the room again, disbelief swelling inside her. She shouldn’t be alive. Not after that water. Not after that fall. Not after everything.

“Was it… not hot?” she murmured. “Was I wrong?”

No. She remembered the steam. The heat. The burning air. She wasn’t wrong. Something had happened—something she didn’t understand yet.

She was still clutching Kathleen’s phone when she opened the door, eager—desperate—to find her family. To find Ewan. To see whether he survived. To know if her grandfather was still breathing.

The door opened into another room. A hospital bed sat in the center. Sheets folded neatly. Empty.

Her breath hitched. “Ewan…?”

Please. Please let this be his room. Let it be empty because he was moved somewhere else. Let him be alive. He couldn’t die—not when she finally remembered everything. Not when she had more than half her life suddenly returned to her.

She hurried to the next door. When she opened it, she froze.

The room beyond was dim, lit only by a small lamp in the corner. The clock on the wall read 2:00 a.m—just as Kathleen’s phone had shown.

Everyone was there. Everyone was fast asleep.

And she smiled, tears of relief and joy burning her eyes.

Ewan was sitting on a long sofa. Kathleen was curled up against his left side. Nathaniel on his right, clutching his father’s sleeve even in sleep. Her grandfather sat in a recliner nearby, head tilted back, a bandage wrapped around his shoulder.

He was alive.

Tears flowed past. She covered her mouth, choking on a sob.

But how was any of this possible?

Her gaze fell on Ewan again. His head was bandaged. Which meant he had been thrown into the water with her; he must have hit his head hard on the metal base.

The sight broke her heart all over again.

She stepped into the room quietly, not wanting to wake them. Including her friends.

But then her smile slowly faded.

Because tucked in the corner of the room—sleeping on a chair, curled uncomfortably, was Zane.

Athena’s breath hitched. Her brows drew together. What was the betrayer doing here?

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