Semua Bab His Accidental Mrs : Bab 71 - Bab 80

The headlines were everywhere by morning."Vaughan Donavan Legacy Shaken by Secret Birth." "Lucian: The Hidden Heir to the Vaughan Fortune." "Second Twin, Second Son — What This Means for the Empire."I scrolled through them in silence, my stomach twisting into knots that wouldn’t unravel. Adrian hadn’t said a word since we read the article. Not because he was shocked, but because he wasn’t.“I knew she wouldn’t stop,” he finally said, voice low. “But I didn’t expect this.”Lucian. Eliora’s child. The timing, the announcement, the suspiciously edited birth certificate that was conveniently leaked to the press,it all reeked of orchestration.And the worst part?No one could yet prove it wasn’t true.Vanessa arrived an hour later.“Eliora’s team is already spinning it,” she said, tossing her phone onto the coffee table. “They’re claiming Lucian is Adrian’s biological son. That he was conceived during the marriage, and hidden to protect him from family politics.”I stood slowly, each wor

The air was different that morning. Denser. As if the walls of the house themselves had begun to bend under the weight of all that was unsaid. The sun shone but offered no warmth. Even the birds perched on the balcony rails seemed unusually quiet, as though the universe itself had grown tired of watching our lives unravel.I sat in the nursery, rocking Zaya slowly in my arms, but my eyes kept drifting to the framed photos on the wall. Adrian had captured every moment,their first steps, first tooth, first time saying Mama. But beneath the joy each image held was something darker now. Something twisted and waiting. Because the truth we had just uncovered didn’t fit neatly into any of those frames.Lucian was not Eliora’s son.He wasn’t even her blood.The real mother’s name was Tara.A woman we’d never heard of before. A woman buried beneath layers of aliases, transfers, and forged birth records. A woman who’d once lived in the same rehabilitation center Eliora had checked into during h

The police lights faded just before sunrise, but their echo stayed behind like an ache in the walls.Tara was given tea she didn’t drink. She sat hunched on the edge of the couch, knees drawn to her chest like she could make herself smaller than the fear eating her alive.Adrian stood at the window, watching the street long after the patrol cars were gone. One hand pressed flat against the glass, his reflection a tired ghost haunting his own fortress.I moved through the house on silent feet—checking locks, whispering reassurances to the children, peeking through the nursery curtains as if Eliora might materialize in the yard again.Micah asked why there were so many strange people outside.Zaya just clung to my leg, thumb wedged between her lips, half-asleep but unwilling to let me drift more than two feet away.I wanted to believe the worst had passed. That Eliora’s desperate move was her final card.But I knew better.People like her didn’t run out of cards. They changed the deck

The day after the press conference, the house felt different.It wasn’t peace. Not really. But it was something that looked like peace if I didn’t breathe too deeply.The twins spent the morning in the garden with Adrian. Lucian sat cross-legged on the grass beside Micah, a tiny fortress of building blocks between them, Zaya running circles around them both with her hair loose and wild in the wind.I stood at the window and told myself this was normal. A father. Three children. Laughter rolling through sunlight. No shadows at the fence. No messages slipped under the door. No threats scrawled in jagged ink.Tara stayed too, drifting between the garden and the kitchen, her hands always busy. Washing dishes that were already clean. Folding laundry that didn’t belong to her. Anything to keep her anchored here — close enough to see Lucian breathe.She hadn’t said it aloud, but I knew she wasn’t ready to leave. Neither was I.Vanessa called just after noon. Her voice tight, eyes flick

I didn’t open the blinds that morning.I let the house stay dark, as if the sun would only make it worse — the quiet too loud, the walls too wide. Every step echoed.The twins asked where Daddy went.Zaya curled into my side, her warm breath against my arm, whispering, “Mama, did Daddy leave because of the bad lady?”I lied to my daughter.I told her no.I told her Daddy just needed to think.Because how could I tell her the truth, when I was still choking on it myself?Vanessa arrived just after noon.She didn’t knock — she never knocked anymore.She found me sitting on the nursery floor again, Lucian in my arms, his tiny hands fisted into the collar of my robe.“Adrian checked into the penthouse suite at the Dominion Hotel,” she said, voice even, eyes sharp. “He’s taken three calls since he left. Two from Consuelo. One from…”“Eliora?” I asked.Vanessa shook her head. “No. Rafael.”I flinched at the name. Adrian’s other uncle. The snake in the family garden.“What did they talk abou