All Chapters of I Got Married For Revenge : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

•~•Aziel’s POVJust before the door slid fully open, I yanked my hand away from the oxygen mask and eased back into my wheelchair. My pulse thundered in my ears, tension gripping my muscles—but I forced myself to relax. Steady breaths. A neutral expression. I had to look composed.The lights flickered on, and there she was—my mother.A wave of cold tension rolled through me as her sharp eyes locked onto mine. Unreadable. Piercing. Was that confusion in her gaze? Suspicion? I couldn’t exactly tell.She stepped forward, eyes scrutinizing. "You just got back from Paris today—after everything that happened there, forcing you to cut your honeymoon short. So why are you here and not with your wife?"I kept my expression casual, even as my grip tightened on the wheelchair’s armrest. “I missed my brother. So I came to see him.”A lie. But a convincing one.She tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing as if searching for cracks in my excuse. “All of a sudden?”I didn’t waver. “Yes. All of a s

•~• Aziel’s POVThe door clicked shut behind me.Such a quiet sound. Soft. Barely there.And yet, it echoed in my chest like a hammer striking steel.I stood there, staring at the closed door, the words burning in my throat, pressing against my lips—yet never leaving them."It’s not like that… The sight of that scar makes me angry because it reminds me of that night. The night I lost you. The night my mother pushed you off that cliff. It reminds me of how I failed to protect you… and our child."That wasn’t so hard, was it?A bitter scoff slipped past my lips.If it wasn’t so hard, then why couldn’t I say it out loud?Why couldn’t I just say it—when she had asked me why the sight of her scar made me angry?Dragging a hand through my hair, I exhaled sharply.Tonight, after leaving my mother at the hospital, I had come home with every intention of telling her everything.I thought it would be easier if she knew. If she wasn’t in the dark anymore, maybe… just maybe I could finally protec

•~•Aziel’s POVA single beat of silence followed. Then she added, “The cops said she seemed to have jumped off a cliff… She was still alive for a couple of days but eventually succumbed to her injuries.”My mother exhaled softly, almost as if sighing. “Oh my… How tragic.”“Yes,” Zane agreed, his voice smooth but distant. “Tragic, because that’s what the police investigation led us to believe.”My mother set her glass down, her fingers resting lightly against the stem.“Why do you say that?” she asked, her tone soft, almost sympathetic. “You don’t believe it was suicide?”Zane exhaled slowly, his shoulders stiffening as he met her gaze. “Because my daughter would never do something like that,” he said firmly. “She had plans. Dreams. There was no reason for her to take her own life.”Irene’s lips parted slightly, her fingers pausing against the stem of her glass.Then, with a small shake of her head, she exhaled. “Maybe there was a reason, Uncle,” she said quietly. “I mean… no one reall

•~•Aziel’s POVHer lips were soft but demanding. her tongue teasing mine, coaxing a sharp breath from me as she moved against me.My hands found her waist, pulling her onto my lap, her knees bracketing my hips.My fingers trailed along the curve of her spine before sliding lower, pressing her down against the growing hardness beneath my pajama pants.A quiet hum escaped her throat as her fingers tangled in my hair, her hips rolling instinctively against mine.The heat between us intensified, her body pressing closer against mine, pushing, pulling, demanding more.I groaned into her mouth, my grip on her waist tightening as her hands slipped between us, fingers working open the buttons of my pajama shirt one by one, her movements tender yet quick.When she reached the last button, she pulled back from our kiss, pushing the fabric off my shoulders and letting it fall on the bed.Her nails skimmed down my arms before she leaned in, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along my jaw, down my

•~•Aziel’s POVThe steady hum of the car’s engine filled the silence as I sat in the backseat, my fingers tapping absentmindedly against the leather armrest.My mind kept circling back to the words Irene had spoken two nights ago, her voice still echoing in my thoughts, then to the conversation with her father last night—one I had overheard through the bug I had planted on her phone.I couldn’t believe she had gone this far, just because I had mentioned that name— Irene.Just because I had told her she was the woman I loved but couldn’t be with. And that question I had asked—how she knew about my dislike for garlic.How could those little details have pushed her into such paranoia?Paranoia that had driven her to do something so reckless as setting up that dinner and talking about herself like Irene Lancaster wasn’t her. Like she had really died that night.And worse, how could she have done it in front of my mother, who was just as paranoid and calculating…If not more so?I let out a