Todos os capítulos de The Womanizer's Mute Wife : Capítulo 221 - Capítulo 230

“What still puzzles me about this case is that we have zero leads on Aiden Reeves or on where the hell these tapes even came from,” Special Agent Carla Ramirez said, leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed tight over her chest. The fluorescent lights in the FBI’s New York field office conference room buzzed overhead, throwing stark shadows across the cluttered table: towering case files, grainy stills from security footage, cold coffee cups, and a laptop frozen on a blurred frame that no one wanted to look at too long.The room carried that particular heaviness that settled in when agents spent too many hours staring pure evil in the face.Lead Investigator Marcus Hale rubbed his temples, loosening the knot of his tie like it was strangling him. “No leads?” he echoed, voice rough from too little sleep. “We’ve got over two hundred tapes, Carla. Two hundred. Girls aged seven to sixteen, drugged senseless, assaulted in his exam room like it was just another Tuesday. Some of them

“Cut the crap, Keenan, and go straight to the point. What the hell do you want?” Jaden snapped, shifting uncomfortably in the leather seat. The dim light of the penthouse living room cast long shadows across his face, highlighting the tension in his jaw and the way his bandaged right hand rested awkwardly on his thigh.Keenan leaned back in the plush armchair opposite him, stretching one arm along the backrest, a lazy smirk playing on his lips. He looked utterly amused, like a cat toying with a half-dead mouse.“That’s no way to talk to your older brother, is it?” Keenan drawled, arching a single brow high in mock offense.Jaden’s face twisted into a scowl, irritation flaring hot in his chest. “Stepbrother,” he corrected sharply, biting off the word like it tasted foul. “And please, just get to the point. I have other things to do.”Keenan’s eyes gleamed with dark humor. He nodded slowly, almost indulgently, then let his gaze drift downward, deliberately slow to Jaden’s bandaged hand.

MONICAThe doorbell rang once. Twice. Three times, insistent, sharp, cutting through the quiet afternoon.Monica glanced at her son from the couch. Mark sat sprawled, eyes glued to his phone, thumbs scrolling, pretending he couldn’t hear a thing.“Don’t you hear the doorbell?” she snapped, irritation flaring.Mark sighed dramatically, unfolding his long legs Blackmail, Blood, and Betrayal standing. “You could’ve answered it yourself,” he muttered under his breath.Monica fixed his back with a glare, but before she could retort, a fit of coughing seized her—deep, rattling coughs that shook her frail frame. She pressed a tissue to her lips, turning away.Mark yanked the door open with more force than necessary.“What….” he started, voice rough with annoyance.The word died in his throat.Two men stood on the porch, mid-forties, plain dark jackets, jeans but the gold FBI badges clipped to their belts caught the sunlight like warning flares.The taller one, salt-and-pepper hair, spoke fir

Zarina rounded the corner at a sprint, breath ragged, eyes wild with panic as she burst into the hallway where Mia and Knight waited. “W-where is she?” she demanded, voice cracking.Her gaze locked onto Mia first, shoulder heavily bandaged in a sling, face pale and drawn. Zarina rushed forward without hesitation, hands trembling as she reached for her friend, searching her body for any sign of worse injury.“W-where is my wife?” The words came out choked, desperate. When no immediate answer came, fresh tears spilled down Zarina’s cheeks, hot and unstoppable. “Please… no, no, tell me it’s not true,” she sobbed, voice breaking into fragments. “Please, I can’t lose her.”Mia opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. her throat too tight, her own grief too raw. Zarina pulled away, staggering toward Knight, who leaned heavily against the wall opposite the surgery doors, arms crossed, expression carved from stone.She grabbed his shirt with shaking hands. “Please, Knight,” she begged,

The Next dayJaden leaned against the doorframe of the guest room, arms crossed loosely over his chest despite the fresh bandages wrapping his shoulder. Inside, Rose slept peacefully under crisp white sheets, IV line dripping steadily, monitors beeping in soft rhythm. The bullet had been removed cleanly; Dr. Patel had said she’d make a full recovery with rest and physical therapy. No nerve damage. No permanent harm.The guilt still sat heavy in Jaden’s gut, he’d dragged an innocent stranger into this nightmare but seeing her breathe steady and even eased something inside him.He turned, only to find Genesis standing a few feet away in the hallway, a small, tired smile on her face.“How is she now?” she asked softly.Jaden pushed off the frame and fell into step beside her as they walked toward the living room. “She’s fine now. Stable. Patel says she’ll be okay, she just needs time.”Genesis nodded, glancing sideways at his bandaged shoulder. “And you? You’re still bleeding through tha