Semua Bab Twice His Wife: Bab 31 - Bab 40

The silence that followed the drone’s escape felt like a scream muffled by the wind. No one moved. Cassian stared at the trail of smoke the drone left behind as it disappeared into the misty sky. His heart pounded hard and slow, each beat dragging him further from the control he once thought he had. Julien was already moving, scanning the pit with a handheld device. “The signal it gave off—hell—it was a beacon. Cerberus knows where we are now.” Anais held Maris close to her chest, clutching her tighter as if she could protect her by sheer will. The little girl’s eyes were half-lidded, her skin pale, but her breathing was steady. Cassian crouched beside them. “She okay?” “She’s not bleeding,” Anais whispered, still in shock. “No injuries.” Julien looked up. “But something happened. That scanner—it activated the Revenant protocol. We’ve been trying to figure out what the hell that meant, and now we know. It’s her. It’s always been her.” Anais didn’t speak. Cassian reached out an

Anais didn’t feel any emotions. She didn’t freeze. She didn’t even think. She just stood up, dust in her mouth, blood on her shirt, and fire clawing its way through her chest like nothing she’d ever felt before. Maris was gone. Not missing. Not wandered off. Taken. And not by just anyone—by Cerberus. She looked down the ridge where they’d dragged the girl. Her stomach turned. The snow was red in patches. A boot print, half-buried, pointed the direction they went. Cassian stumbled toward her, still winded, face bloodied, jaw clenched. “We’ll find her,” he said. Anais turned to him slowly. “You don’t get to say that to me.” He flinched, just slightly. “She was right next to me,” Anais said, her voice cold and shaking. “And then she wasn’t. That’s it. That’s what happened. One second, she was here. The next, she was—” She stopped herself. Cassian didn’t interrupt. They both knew how fast it happened. “I need to go after her,” she said. “You will,” he told her. “No,” sh

The SUV screeched to a halt outside the dimly lit safehouse, gravel crunching beneath the tires. Rain tapped furiously on the roof like a ticking clock none of them could ignore. Cassian barely waited for the engine to cut before stepping out, his coat catching in the door as if even it were trying to hold him back.Anais followed close behind, quiet, pale, clutching her shoulder like she was trying to anchor herself in her own body. The silence between them was weighty—not cold, but raw. There was nothing left to say that hadn’t already been said in the car, and even that had been filled with clipped sentences and glances that refused to meet.Inside, Maris was already seated on the floor near the corner, legs crossed, eyes flicking between them. She hadn’t spoken since they pulled her from the warehouse, not even a thank you. Just silence. It unsettled Anais in a way she couldn’t explain.Cassian scanned the perimeter, cleared every window, every possible breach. His jaw was tight,

The explosion hit like a goddamn earthquake.The walls of the underground lab shook with force so violent, Anais thought the mountain was caving in. Lights flickered once, then died. Emergency reds washed everything in blood-colored flashes.Cassian had already grabbed her wrist. “MOVE.”Behind them, another blast ripped through the corridor, sending metal panels and glass flying. Maris screamed. Dahlia threw herself over her, shielding her head as shards rained down.“Exit routes!” Cassian barked, voice sharp through the chaos.“North chamber!” Dahlia shouted. “Manual override at the old lift—if they haven’t disabled it.”They ran.Boots pounding on steel. Sirens wailing. Smoke curling through vents and ducts, choking every breath.Anais’s lungs burned. Her chest was thudding too hard. But the weight in her gut wasn’t fear—it was fury.She had just seen her father’s face on that screen.He was alive. And worse—he’d sold her soul long before she even knew she had one.Cassian led them

Julien’s gun didn’t waver. Not even a little.The barrel was pointed straight at Cassian’s chest, steady in his grip, like this moment had been rehearsed in his mind over and over again. He stood just inside the rooftop doorway, eyes narrowed, lips pulled into that same cold smirk Cassian remembered too well.“I should’ve ended this years ago,” Julien said.Cassian didn’t flinch. His hands were half-raised, body angled slightly toward the helicopter still hovering overhead. He could still hear the whir of the blades, see the rope swinging. Anais had already gone up. Dahlia and Maris too. The three of them were rising to safety—and he was still down here, face-to-face with a ghost from his worst decisions.“You always had bad timing,” Cassian muttered.Julien tilted his head, finger brushing the trigger. “And you always had a hero complex.”A single gunshot cracked the air.Cassian jerked sideways, stumbling against a low pipe. But the pain didn’t come.Behind him, someone gasped.Dahl