Semua Bab Twice His Wife: Bab 51 - Bab 60

The silence in the car was thicker than the fog outside.Anais sat in the backseat, her spine stiff, hands clenched in her lap as the Range Rover cut through the cold night. Cassian was driving. Maris had finally drifted into a fragile sleep beside her, her face pale and drawn, her breath shallow. The engine hummed, but there was no music. No conversation. Just tension. Just silence.Cassian hadn’t looked at her once.She didn’t blame him.He’d watched her unravel back at the safehouse, eyes rimmed in fury and disbelief as she’d said those words—“Let me go, Cassian. I’m not yours.”Now she wanted to reach forward, grab his shoulder, and take it all back. But pride was a thing, wasn’t it? Even in the face of fear. Even after everything she’d seen in the ruins—those symbols glowing on the stone, that pulse of something not entirely human beneath their feet—she couldn’t seem to bridge the growing space between them.“Turn left,” Anais said, her voice barely audible.Cassian didn’t respon

Cassian hadn’t moved from the balcony in over an hour. The wind had started picking up, carrying with it the distant noise of the city’s unrest—sirens, honking, and the occasional scream that felt too close for comfort. But all he could hear was Anaïs’s voice from hours ago. The way it broke. The way she didn’t look back.She had left with Harlan’s file in hand, and he knew the weight of it would either destroy her or set something inside her free. Maybe both. He wasn’t sure which one scared him more.Inside, the apartment felt too big. He had always preferred the quiet, but tonight, it mocked him. The whiskey bottle he’d left open on the coffee table remained untouched, condensation pooling beneath it like sweat off a dying man’s brow.And still, the silence wouldn’t leave.Meanwhile, Anaïs didn’t cry. Not once. The car sped through the city, but she didn’t really see it. Her fingers were clamped so tightly around the folder that her knuckles had turned white. What hurt more than the

The silence in the apartment was loud. Anaïs stood by the window, watching the rain smear against the glass like it was trying to erase everything behind it. Her reflection stared back at her—drawn, tired, and stripped of the anger that had carried her through the last twenty-four hours.Cassian hadn’t come back.Not since she’d stormed out of the boardroom, not since his betrayal unraveled like a rug pulled from beneath her feet. She’d walked back here like a ghost, not fully aware of how her legs still moved.She should’ve yelled. She should’ve burned it all down. But her silence had been louder than anything she could’ve said in that moment.And it was killing her.Behind her, Maris sat curled up on the armchair, phone in hand, scrolling mindlessly. She hadn’t said a word either. They were both pretending to be fine in the same room, like silence was a truce they hadn’t signed but desperately needed.“Do you think he’s coming back?” Anaïs asked, voice barely audible.Maris didn’t l

Cassian didn’t speak for a full thirty seconds after Julien’s footsteps faded down the corridor. Anaïs could feel the heat of his silence. It wasn’t quiet—far from it. His breaths were harsh, sharp through his nose, his jaw locked so tightly she thought his teeth might crack.She didn’t want to be the one to break it, but she couldn’t breathe in the tension any longer.“Say something,” she whispered.He turned slowly, his face unreadable. But his eyes—God, his eyes—were pitch black with something fierce. Hurt? Betrayal? She wasn’t sure anymore.“You didn’t tell me,” he said, voice low. “You didn’t say a damn thing.”“I—” Anaïs took a step forward, then stopped herself. “I didn’t know he was here. He just showed up.”“And that makes it okay?” He gave a short, cold laugh. “You froze. You didn’t even push him away.”“I didn’t freeze because I wanted him here, Cassian!” she snapped, her voice shaking. “I froze because that man terrorized me for years. Because seeing him again made my body

The room was too quiet. Not the peaceful kind of quiet. This one buzzed in Anaïs’s ears like a warning.She sat on the floor of Cassian’s study, knees tucked under her, staring at the shattered glass spread across the marble like a mosaic of everything broken between them. Her hands were trembling, fingers red where the tiny shards had kissed her skin. She hadn’t even noticed the pain until now.Cassian hadn’t said a word since the glass exploded against the wall. He just stood there, back straight, jaw tight, his eyes like obsidian ice.“I’m not afraid of you,” she said, voice low but steady.His eyes flicked toward her, almost like he was trying to decide if that was a challenge or a lie.“You should be,” he said simply.Anaïs swallowed. It wasn’t a threat. That was the worst part. It was a confession.The anger hadn’t come out of nowhere. She had pushed. She had pried. She had asked the one question that clawed at her every night he touched her without looking her in the eyes.“Who