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Chapter Sixty Five
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2025-06-17 05:16:15
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My Ex-wife is a Hidden Heiress! Chapter Sixty Five
Broken Bondsvalenticia's POV~I stood, frozen, in the library of the Clawford family estate, Marcus’s picture wobbling in my grip. My Stefan was at a Seryne café with Natasha Anderson, his hand on top of hers on the table, their heads inclined in close company. My heart broke into pieces as if glass shattered on the pavement into a thousand sharp pieces—why did you lie to me? Where fear and fury met, my breaths coming raggedly, the antidote vial locked away in my box nothing but a whisper against this betrayal. His distant texts ever since our night in the rose garden, his Busy, talk soon, now felt toxic. My hands clenched around the photo, biting into its edges, the fear piking—is he with Galden? The library’s oak shelves towered above, Eleanor’s journals accusing the skin off my bones and I fell toward a chair, my sweater soaked with sweat, my mother’s lullaby — - Hush my star — a thin whisper I couldn’t latch on to. Determination flickered, a little flame among the ruins I will f
My Ex-wife is a Hidden Heiress! Chapter Sixty four
Patel’s TruthDr Patel's POV~I crouched at my desk, heaped with papers like dead leaves and with the fluorescent light buzzing down into my brain and cowing the shadow shapes into retreat upon the printout of Valenticia Clawford’s antidote formula. A cold serpent of fear slithered in my gut, its whisper unceasing: What if I fail her once more? Callused from years of lab work my fingers hovered over the formula, chemical notations holding out brittle hope I’d distilled under Gregor Galden’s brooding instructions. His voice from that call last night came back to me, ice cold, “Feed her lies, break her”, an order at odds with guilt that gnawed at my bones. I’d labored under Galden in 1999, testing Dr. Marrow’s memory serum with no idea that my patient, Subject V, was Valenticia, a child, Eleanor Clawford’s daughter, my colleague whose warmth had once lit my way. I felt my throat close, shame hot. How did I miss it? The office air was stale and Seryne’s morning bustle distanced by a fros
My Ex-wife is a Hidden Heiress! Chapter Sixty Three
Lazareth’s VeilGregor's POV~I sat back in my leather chair, a Scotch in my hand, watching the amber of my drink reflect the light of the desk lamp as I sneered through Lazareth’s serum trials. My voice was steel, cruel wisdom cut over years of practiced control, “Valenticia’s a pawn, nothing less.” Behold the Lazareth project – my masterpiece, the weaponization of memory-hole suppression, serum derived from the remains of Subject V, my niece, Valenticia Clawford. Her groping for the antidote, her mother’s sorry heirloom, was the gnat’s hum in my scheming. Fear? Absent. She would never win in a fight against me. I sipped the scotch, the burn in the scotch, and scrolled through documents with coded file names, Lazareth’s data a symphony of power: dosages fine-tuned, trials enlarged, funds wired into shadow accounts. My will did not waver, it was iron, hard -- the world will bend, and Valenticia will break. *Natasha Anderson's report had flashed across my screen, her voice came clippe
My Ex-wife is a Hidden Heiress! Chapter Sixty Two
Kane’s SecretsValencitia's POV~My boots tapped quietly on the varnished floor, terror humming in my blood as I gripped Marcus’s note: Marrow’s alias—Elias Kane, Seryne bookshop. The words were a lifeline, a thread with which to pull apart Galden’s lies, but dread curled tight—what if Kane’s another trap? The vial of the antidote, stored safely within the lockbox in the estate, felt a hopeless distance away, and its warning — ‘unstable, neural overload — a ghost in my thoughts. My sweater stuck to my skin, still wet from Seryne’s morning dew, and I crawled into a microfilm booth, the machine’s purr a dark rumble. My fear peaked, and suddenly my heart was pounding—is Natasha looking? Her card from the coast lab, Marcus’ warning, that there was a mole in Lena’s lab, haunted me, but my mother’s note–find Marrow burned even brighter inside of me, a promise to get justice for her and for my father, both of whom Gregor killed.I threaded a 1999 reel, my hands shaking, and the screen blin
My Ex-wife is a Hidden Heiress! Chapter Sixty One
The Mole’s MarkMarcus POV~Seryne’s streets were a tangle of shadows, the city’s heartbeat a low thrum as I slid open the door to Dr. Lena Voss’s lab, the lock giving way to my picks with a muffled snap. My heart pounded, fear edged—Rosanna’s concern about a Galden mole was no joke, not with Valenticia’s potion in the balance. The lab was dark, the fluorescence down, but there were counters, and my penlight played across them, catching the glimmer of glass vials, and the sheen of steel equipment. My feet were silent against the tile, each step calculated, fear spiking—what if they were here? I had worked for Rosanna a quarter century, and her trust was scraped together through hard luck, but the work I was being asked to do—protecting Valenticia Clawford—felt personal, a reward for a debt to Eleanor’s kindness all those years ago, her welcoming smile when I was little more than a hungry kid that she kept from going hungry. I spotted Lena’s bench, the vials marked Antidote Prototype,
My Ex-wife is a Hidden Heiress! Chapter Sixty
A Night of Firevalenticia's POV~I stood near the stone fountain, some gurgle from its depths washed against the fear that had chased me ever since Seryne’s seaside lab, leaving the antidote’s warning—unstable, neural overload—and Natasha’s card behind like specters. My silk blouse stuck to my skin, the evening’s chill raising goose bumps, but my heart raced not with dread, but with anticipation. I had texted Stefan: Garden, tonight. The vial of antidote, secure in my room’s safe, was a burden I needed to put away from me, and since he was there, warm, unshakeable, to match his presence with his arm about my waist, was all I should require for comfort. Much too faint, the pulse of fear—is Galden watching? —and then Stefan emerged, and for some reason, I felt my fear relax as his long body formed a pattern against the evening light and the cold pressing into the ground; his eyes snapped to my eyes, and I felt another, deeper fire warm me within.He came toward me, the gravel under hi
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