Semua Bab Dear husband I can live without you : Bab 181 - Bab 190

The detective stood stiffly in the living room, his shoes sinking slightly into the thick rug as if even the house itself understood the weight of what he carried. His voice came out low and hesitant, like a man delivering a sentence he wished he could take back.“Ma’am… we have the forensic results.” He extended the sealed file toward Anna.But before her fingers could reach it, Gerald stepped in sharply, snatching the file from the detective’s hand. His grip was tight enough to wrinkle the edge of the envelope. He didn’t have to open it to know what waited inside. The detective’s eyes had already said it. The slump of his shoulders. The sorrow stuck in his throat. The quiet pity.Gerald’s stomach twisted like someone had tied a rope around his guts and pulled. He couldn’t let her see this. Not yet. Maybe not ever.Twenty-four hours.Twenty-four long, agonizing hours since the police said the burnt body matched Aiden’s description. But this—this file—held the final verdict.“Gerald…”

“I think something is off,” Anna muttered, her fingers absently tugging at a loose strand of hair as she scrolled through Aiden’s clips on the television.Vivian, sprawled across the sofa with a bowl of popcorn balanced on her lap, glanced at her friend. “Why do you say that?” she asked between bites, the butter from the popcorn clinging to her fingertips.Anna sat up straighter, a frown knitting her brows. “Andy… he was acting weird when I walked into the house today. Kinda… distant, like he had something he didn’t want me to see.” Her voice was quiet, almost fragile, but her eyes were sharp, scanning the clips for some clue that her mind refused to let go.“O…okay,” Vivian said slowly, chewing on a piece of popcorn. She didn’t press further. She’d learned long ago that Anna’s instincts were rarely off.“And I didn’t see Penelope at all until I left,” Anna added, her voice dropping a notch. “It was as if she was avoiding me.”Vivian’s eyebrows lifted. “Which… is so unlike Penelope.”

The cemetery was almost too quiet that night—quiet in a way that made the air feel heavy, as if the darkness itself was listening.Anna parked a few steps away from Aiden’s grave, her hands trembling as she turned off the engine. The headlights faded, leaving everything cloaked in shadows except for the faint glow of the moon hanging low in the sky.She stepped out slowly, the cold biting through her skin. The grass was damp, brushing against her ankles as she walked, each step sinking slightly into the earth. She hugged herself, not because of the cold, but because her chest felt like it was splitting open again.Aiden’s headstone came into view—small, clean, painfully still. She stopped in front of it and inhaled shakily, her breath forming a thin mist in the air.“Hi baby…” she whispered, her voice barely holding shape.She crouched down, her knees pressing into the cold ground. Her fingers brushed the marble headstone—smooth, cold, unforgiving. She swallowed a thick lump, then res

Anna froze in front of the bathroom mirror, her breath hitching the way a person gulps for air after being held underwater for too long. Her chest rose and fell sharply. Her fingers trembled as they lifted toward the unfamiliar face staring back at her. A stranger. A ghost. A stolen identity wearing her skin.“Oh my God. What… what is this.” Her voice cracked like thin glass. Panic crawled up her spine, prickling her skin.She didn’t even finish dressing properly. She yanked her clothes back on, painfully aware of her damp skin and the way her nightdress clung to her. She forgot the bath entirely. She forgot everything except the horrifying image stuck in her mind.She bolted out of the bathroom and stumbled into the hallway, barefoot, hair dripping, heart punching wildly in her chest.She spotted a maid dusting the center table in the living room. The woman turned, startled, as Anna rushed at her like someone fleeing a fire.“Where… where is Sir Blanco?” Anna stuttered. The words sho

Anna walked into the conference room, the place humming with the faint smell of polished wood and old leather. Her heels clicked sharply against the marble floor, echoing in the high-ceilinged room. Two bodyguards flanked her like shadows, silent and imposing, one stationed behind her. In the past, she would have walked in casually, arms swinging, hair bouncing without a care. But those days were gone. Now, every step, every glance, every breath she took carried weight. Her safety wasn’t optional anymore—it was everything. Ethan Voss sat behind his massive oak desk. The instant he saw her, he sat up straighter. His lips curved into a practiced smile, but his gut twisted uncomfortably, a shiver running down his spine. He didn’t know this woman—at least, not truly—but there was something in the way she held herself, the fire flickering behind her steady brown eyes, that made his chest tighten. Her presence pressed against him like a cold wind in midsummer, both dangerous and intoxicatin