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CHAPTER 8

last update Last Updated: 2025-11-27 10:24:40

Dominic staggered back a step.

Good thing Enzo was behind, who immediately steadied him. His bodyguard placed a firm grip on Dominic's shoulder to correct his bearing.

His knees buckled under the weight of the shock. Because there, just a few feet away from him, standing beneath the white-hot lights of the auditorium stage was the ghost, haunting him for the past four years, wearing a smile.

Althea.

Her name slipped out of his lips in a sound that was barely breath, barely voice, barely human. More prayer than word. More wound than memory.

She stood impossibly still at the center of the stage, poised in a way she never once managed during the years she lived inside his home. Gone was the fragile wife who flinched at the creak of the mansion floors or the raised voice of a servant or the sound of his footsteps after a long night of bloodshed. Gone was the trembling girl who fled from him under a splash of moonlight and heartbreak.

This woman, this version of her walked onto the stage l
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  • His Dead Wife: No Longer the Surrogate Bride   CHAPTER 46

    Dominic learned about Isabelle’s visit to Althea with her fiancé even before the clinic doors had fully closed its operation.The information reached him the way everything did now, filtered, precise, stripped of sentiment.Enzo didn’t ease into it.“She went inside the Devereaux’s complex. Security sought clearance first and was approved,” he said over the secure line. “Althea’s clinic. She’s still inside as of now.”Dominic stopped mid-step as he was walking back and forth.“Isabelle?” Dominic asked, though he already knew.“Yes.”Silence stretched.Dominic turned slowly, pressing his palm against the wall as if grounding himself. “Who authorized that?”“Security called Devereaux to seek clearance because they won’t let her in,” Enzo replied carefully. “She came as a patient. Her hospitalization at M

  • His Dead Wife: No Longer the Surrogate Bride   CHAPTER 45

    The operation took six hours.They started early in the morning.Althea stood beneath the surgical lights without shifting her weight, not letting the tremor of fatigue reach her hands. Time folded inward inside the operating room that is reduced to the rhythm of her breathing, the quiet hum of machines.The patient she is operating on arrived under diplomatic secrecy with men escorting him every step of the way. Men who never removed their earpieces. He is a high-ranking government official from the Middle East. He was pronounced functionally inoperable after three failed interventions across Europe and Asia.The problem was brutal in its elegance. It is a complex basilar artery aneurysm, seated deep at the junction of life and death, threaded through the brainstem like a deliberate trap. Any miscalculation would sever neural pathways responsible for breathing, speech, and motor control.Touching the area was even considered reckless by w

  • His Dead Wife: No Longer the Surrogate Bride   CHAPTER 44

    Dominic did not wait for permission.He got out of his car and stormed towards the mansion, his striders angry and with purpose the following day. The staff barely had time to greet him or sent a notice towards the elders inside the chamber. Enzo and two of his men followed closely.The Valtieri council chamber had been built to intimidate. The stone walls were thick enough to swallow any sound coming from inside. A part of the ceiling was carved with ancestral crests meant to remind every man inside that blood outlived conscience.Morning light filtered in through narrow windows, cutting the long table into sharp bands of gold and shadow.The doors burst open, the hardwood panels slamming against the wall.Conversation died instantly.Dominic entered like a storm that had learned how to walk.Every chair was currently occupied. Luca sat at the head, hands folded, expression carved from patience that had long since curdled into cruelt

  • His Dead Wife: No Longer the Surrogate Bride   CHAPTER 43

    After saying goodnight to Michael, Althea closed the door behind her softly to her room, as if any sound louder than a breath might fracture what little steadiness she had left. She leaned on the door for a while.Michael’s footsteps retreated down the hall. He never followed her into this room. He never asked. That was the unspoken rule between them. This space was hers alone and he fully respected it.She looked around her bedroom that was dim. Lit only by the city glow filtering through sheer curtains. It smelled faintly of lavender and old books, a comfort layered carefully over vigilance. This was her refuge and the only place where she doesn’t have to play survival.Crossing the room, she drew the curtains shut, sealing herself off from the watching world. The silence that followed was deep, almost reverent.Only then did she finally exhale.She took off her shoes and walked towards the ensuite bath, the marble floor cool beneath her bare fee

  • His Dead Wife: No Longer the Surrogate Bride   CHAPTER 42

    The townhouse was quiet in the way only places fortified by money and intention could be.Althea walked towards the tall windows overlooking the river, city lights scattering across the glass like fractured stars. She stared out for a while in silence.Michael had insisted on closing the internal gates himself, checking the perimeter twice before retreating to the study. The echoes of the gala still rang faintly in her ears—music, murmurs, the sharp intake of breath when danger brushed too close.She lifted her phone and pressed a number.Helena answered on the first ring. She immediately took her leave using August’s helicopter, for the island when Michael had safely escorted her out of the venue.“You’re home,” Helena said, relief threading her voice. “Thank God.”“I am,” Althea replied quietly. “Michael insisted. He didn’t even ask.”“That’s good,” Helena said. “That means he understands the shift.”Althea closed her eyes, calming herself. “It wasn’t just a shift. It was, deliberat

  • His Dead Wife: No Longer the Surrogate Bride   CHAPTER 41

    From the upper mezzanine overlooking the ballroom, Dominic watched as the Devereaux gala continued to unfold like a chessboard already mid-game.Crystal chandeliers spilled light over silk gowns and tailored suits, laughter rising and falling with practiced ease. Money moved easily here. Power even more so.At the center of it all is Althea.She stood beside Michael Devereaux as if she belonged there.No.She stands here owning the space.A subtle difference, but Dominic immediately saw it. The way people angled their bodies toward her, the way conversations slowed when she spoke, the way her presence shifted the gravity of the room.Michael’s hand rested at the small of her back.Not possessive.Protective.Dominic’s jaw tightened and he balled his hands into tight fists.Michael leaned down slightly, murmuring something near her ear. Althea tilted her head, laughed softly, and casually placed a hand on his upper arm and whispered something back that made him laugh as well.Dominic f

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