Semua Bab Twice His Wife: Bab 121 - Bab 123

The night air outside Monteluna carried the scent of something scorched—wood, or earth, or time. Maris stood alone beneath the stars, smoking a cigarette down to the filter. She didn’t like how quiet it had gotten inside the farmhouse, and she didn’t like how Julien had just appeared, like some ghost they’d forgotten to bury.But mostly, she didn’t like the look on Cassian’s face when Anaïs hugged him. That split-second of restraint. Like a man pulling the reins on grief.Behind her, the screen door creaked. She didn’t turn around.“Came to check on me?” she muttered.Cassian’s voice came out rough. “No.”She glanced over. “You look like you saw the ghost of your own guilt.”He didn’t answer.Maris blew out a thin stream of smoke, flicked the butt into the dirt. “I knew he wasn’t dead. Don’t ask me how. Just did.”Cassian finally looked at her. “And you didn’t tell Anaïs?”“She needed to believe he was gone. Back then, she couldn’t have handled the hope.”He nodded. He didn’t argue. I

The silence inside the Monteluna house wasn’t peaceful—it was brittle, like a shell too thin to touch. The kind of quiet that makes you listen harder, not softer.Cassian stood by the window. The storm had rolled through quickly, leaving streaks of water down the glass and a sullen sky in its wake. The orchard outside was still dripping, the trees bowed with the weight of it all. Behind him, Anaïs moved through the kitchen in the slow, careful rhythm of someone too aware of their own body. Her back was straight, her hands precise. Measured.Like everything might break if she wasn’t.Maris sat at the long wooden table, elbows planted, scribbling notes. She’d barely spoken since they’d cracked open Julien’s final drive. Crane had pulled an all-nighter combing through it. Now, they had names. Coordinated movements. Footage. Timestamps. Internal memos. All of it meticulously encrypted, buried behind false folders and code Julien had practically signed with his own blood.They had proof no