Lahat ng Kabanata ng Accidentally Kidnapped the Warlord and Became His Wife: Kabanata 51 - Kabanata 60

Misha was already up and lacing his boots when I came back into the bedroom with a mug of coffee. And a deep frown.“I told you to rest.”He looked up, smirked, and didn’t stop tying the laces. “Are you checking me out or checking on me?”“Don’t flatter yourself. You got shot, Misha.”“Which, in case you haven’t noticed, didn’t kill me. I’ve had worse.”“You always say that.”“Because it’s true.”It was maddening how casual he was. Six days ago, he was an ice block fresh from the arctic ocean, bleeding out in my arms, barely breathing. And now he was walking around like nothing happened, like the gunshot wounds and scrapes all over his body were some mild inconvenience. He barely even flinched when he moved.And me? I’d been a wreck. I checked his bandages like clockwork, hovered over him with water and gauze, memorized every inch of bruising. I’d tried to make him take his meds. He refused. I’d monitored his br

“And… who is this?” My mother asked at last, lips still curled in that brittle smile, but her gaze sharpened like glass, cataloging every unsanctioned detail. Her voice was polite. But her eyes said, ‘He doesn’t belong.’ “Misha Ashford.” He stepped forward half a pace, tilting his head as though seeing her for the first time. Then he offered a short, mocking bow. “Lorraine’s husband. You may not remember me, Mrs. Redmond.” My mother faltered, blinking in confusion. “Wh—what? “I believe you fainted during the part where Ezra’s pants were down and Meredith’s dress was up,” he added lightly. “Hell of a way to open a wedding ceremony, if you ask me.” Her lips parted, stunned silent for the first time in probably a decade. Color rose in her cheeks. Not from embarrassment, but indignation. The room around us strained to hold its collective breath. “I—I was not feeling well,” she managed finally, her voice brittle with regained composure. “And I don’t recall anyone giving you permissio

The air shifted the moment Zachary Redmond stepped into the room.The whispers died instantly. Meredith turned pale. Ezra stiffened like he’d swallowed a block of chalk. Even my mother straightened, chin high, suddenly silent beside the doorway she’d just reappeared from.But Zachary didn’t look at them. His eyes found me. Me. Not Meredith, not Ezra, not the curated chaos behind them. And then, after a beat, his gaze slid to Misha. Something flickered across his face.He strode toward us, shoes silent on marble, presence louder than anyone else’s voice. “Lorraine.”“Dad.” My mouth ran off before my brain could catch up. Far too familiar with this. “And, Misha,” he extended a hand, “So nice of you to join us.”Unreadable as ever, Misha took it. Firm grip. No smile. Just the same cool control that drove men twice his size to step aside.“I’ve read up on you,” Zachary added, still holding his hand for a second too long. “Y

The moment the final wineglass was refilled and no one rose from their seats, I knew what was coming.Gifts.The servants entered like a well-choreographed procession, bearing packages wrapped in silks, lacquered boxes in deep jewel tones, and envelopes so thick they practically groaned with weight.It began with the usual charade. Distant relatives who hadn’t spoken to Zachary in years suddenly ‘honoring his well-being’ with gifts that screamed don’t forget I exist when you restructure the board.One by one, each package was presented at the long mahogany side table set just behind Zachary’s seat. A butler unwrapped each one in full view, murmuring names and details loud enough for the entire garden to hear.“From Mr. and Mrs. Burke, a 19th-century cloisonné box.”“From Miss Madison, an ink scroll calligraphy by genius painter Sein.”Gasps. Nods. Discreet exchanges of impressed glances as they recognised the artist's na

“I already know,” I said, “You don’t have to lie anymore.”Zachary’s brow creased. “Know what?”“That Mom slept with another man. That she got pregnant. That when you found out, he offered you money. A settlement, maybe. Hush money. Whatever it was, you took it.” I watched him flinch with each word. “You let him pay you to just suck it up and move on. And you raised me anyway.”His chair screeched violently as he stood, face pale. “That’s not true. That is not—You don’t know what you’re talking about, Lorraine!”“But, I do. I know who he is. The man you took the money from for me. I have his name. I’ve seen the proof.” I could feel my throat tighten, but I kept going. “So tell me, Dad, was I just a liability? A loose end you tolerated? Is that why I was always treated like a pawn? Just a piece you could sacrifice to protect your empire?”Time seemed to stilled, frozen in space. Then, a strangled sound broke the silence. My mothe