All Chapters of Twice His Wife: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Cassian had always known how to silence a room. But this time, it wasn’t with his voice or his presence—it was with the way he stood behind Anaïs, a step back but undeniably there. Protective. Tense. Watching everyone.And it changed everything.In the sterile white walls of the underground chamber, surrounded by the council members who had thought they could manipulate the entire world from behind their polished tables, the power dynamics shifted. No one said a word at first. Not even Vaughn, whose smugness evaporated like steam.Anaïs, whose wrists still bore the faint red marks from the cuffs, turned her head slowly and looked up at Cassian. It wasn’t a question in her eyes. It wasn’t even relief. It was… anger. Quiet, simmering anger buried under the exhaustion.“You knew,” she whispered. “You always knew.”He didn’t flinch. “Yes.”She stared for a second longer, then looked away, jaw tightening.“Tell me,” she said aloud, stepping forward and facing the Council. “Why did you brin

Cassian had only ever truly feared one thing: losing control. Not over power, or his empire, or his influence—that was calculated, measured, expected. But the kind of control that unraveled when someone mattered too much. Someone like Anaïs.He didn’t see her right away when he entered the hospital corridor. What he saw instead were three armed guards outside a door he didn’t recognize, and a long smear of blood just faint enough to look like it had been hastily wiped. A nurse crossed herself when she passed by.Inside, the room was colder than he expected.Anaïs was there, standing. Not sitting, not resting, not leaning against the wall like someone who had nearly died hours ago. She was upright, but barely. Her eyes had that quiet rage in them that reminded him of fire under glass—contained, but burning steady.“You didn’t call,” she said.He didn’t know how to answer that. His hands twitched at his sides.“You almost died,” he said, finally.She nodded. “You left.”That cut deeper

Cassian didn’t move. Not at first.The silence after Anaïs’s words clung to the air like static—thick, hot, waiting for someone to break it. But she didn’t flinch, and he didn’t retreat. They stood there in that narrow corridor—her eyes fierce and glinting with the kind of defiance he used to find annoying but now couldn’t look away from.She’d just told him the one truth he never wanted to hear. That someone inside his own circle had been feeding information to the enemy. And worse, she had proof.He took one slow step toward her. “Who is it?”“You’re not going to like the answer.”“I never do.”Anaïs didn’t soften. “It’s someone close. Someone you trust.” She opened her bag and pulled out the folded file she’d stuffed in there minutes before—Nina had handed it to her just that morning, looking shaken.Cassian took it. His fingers were cold against the paper.He scanned it. Once. Then again. And then his jaw clenched, hard enough she saw the muscle twitch.“No,” he muttered.Anaïs no

Cassian didn’t speak for a long time after Anaïs told him what Reid had said. He just stood there in the dark hallway of the safehouse, his arms folded across his chest, jaw tight. The only sound was the low hum of the fridge in the next room and Anaïs’s breathing.He finally looked up. “He said he watched her die?”Anaïs nodded. “He said it so casually, like he’s been sitting on that memory for years.”Cassian’s voice came low, quiet. “That’s because he has. He’s not just some loyal foot soldier. Reid was in deep, long before we ever realized. If he watched Dahlia die… he knows what happened to Julien too.”Anaïs looked away. It was still hard to say Dahlia’s name. “You think he was behind Julien’s disappearance?”“I think he knows exactly what happened that night in Boston,” Cassian said. “And I think this whole mess—the threats, the silence, everything—it all comes back to that.”Anaïs folded her arms, suddenly cold. “Then why hasn’t he said anything? Why now?”Cassian stepped clos

Let’s be honest—Anaïs hadn’t really known what she was expecting when Julien stepped back into that room. But what she hadn’t prepared for was the way his voice cracked when he said her name. It wasn’t dramatic or scripted. It was just raw.Julien didn’t try to embrace her. He didn’t throw himself at her feet begging for forgiveness. He stood there like a man who wasn’t sure he deserved to be there at all.And then Dahlia came in.That was when the air thinned.Dahlia’s entrance had always come with some kind of noise—heels clacking, voice trailing into a laugh, or perfume announcing her presence seconds before she spoke. But this time? Nothing. She was quiet. Watchful. Like she was observing from a distance even though she was standing just a few feet away.Cassian had gone still, his jaw visibly clenched. And Anaïs? She didn’t move. She didn’t speak. Her arms remained folded, like she was holding herself together.“Why are you here?” she asked Julien. The question wasn’t cold. It wa