All Chapters of Obsessed with His Unwanted Mute Bride : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

The paperwork never came.Beverly should have known. Should have recognized the trap in Irene's too-easy agreement, the satisfaction in Faye's smile, the way Diro's jaw had tightened with something that looked like dread.But for three perfect hours, she'd let herself believe.She'd sat in the study, waiting for lawyers who never arrived. Watching the clock tick toward evening. Imagining herself walking out the front door, down the long driveway, through the gates that had kept her prisoner for so long.Free.Then Irene's phone rang."Yes?" Irene answered, her eyes never leaving Beverly's face. "I see. And you're certain?" A pause. "How unfortunate. Yes, I'll handle it. Thank you."She set down the phone with deliberate precision."It seems," Irene said, her voice almost gentle, "that there's been a complication."Beverly's stomach dropped."My lawyers inform me that your signature on our marriage documents included a clause—one you agreed to when you were, admittedly, very young and

Beverly woke to her stomach turning inside out.She barely made it to the adjoining bathroom before her body expelled what little food she'd eaten the night before. The retching was violent, painful, her throat burning as she knelt on the cold tile floor.When it finally stopped, she stayed there, forehead pressed against the porcelain, her body shaking with exhaustion that went deeper than six days in a basement cell."Beverly?"Diro's voice, thick with sleep and alarm. Footsteps crossing the bedroom. Then he was there, kneeling beside her, his hand hovering near her back but not quite touching."How long have you been sick?"Beverly's hands were too weak to sign. She held up fingers—three, then made a motion for days."Three days?" Diro's face paled. "Why didn't you tell anyone? The guards—"She shook her head. Asking the guards for help in the basement would have been pointless. They'd been ordered to keep her there, not care for her.Another wave of nausea hit. Beverly gripped the

After Irene left, Diro locked the bedroom door and leaned against it, his gun still in his hand, his chest heaving like he'd just run a marathon.Beverly sat on the edge of the bed, her hand pressed to her stomach, trying to process what had just happened. The standoff. The gun. Diro choosing her—choosing their baby—over three years of submission to his mother's will."We have about four hours," Diro said finally, his voice hoarse. "Maurice is meeting the FBI at noon with all the evidence. They'll come here by early afternoon to arrest her."Beverly's hands moved: Four hours for Irene to kill us both."She won't." But Diro's voice lacked conviction. "The lawyers—the trust protections—"Mean nothing if we're dead before the FBI arrives.The brutal truth settled between them. Irene had spent twenty-five years building her empire on murder and manipulation. Four more hours wouldn't stop her if she decided they were too dangerous to leave alive."Then we need a plan." Diro finally holster

They stood frozen in the darkness of the cottage, listening to Irene's footsteps retreat. The security team remained outside, invisible in the night but undeniably present. Beverly could feel their presence like a physical weight pressing against the walls."We need to fortify this place," Diro said finally, breaking the terrible silence. "Make it harder for them to get in."Maurice nodded, still pale but forcing himself into action. "The windows. We need to block them completely. And the door—""Already broken from when we kicked it in," Diro finished grimly. He moved to the main door of the cottage, testing it. The wood was old but solid. The lock still worked. "This one is intact at least. Help me move more furniture."They worked quickly in the darkness, their flashlights creating dancing shadows as they dragged every piece of furniture they could move toward the two entrances. The heavy wooden table went against the tunnel door. An ancient bookshelf against the main entrance. Cha

The silence inside the cottage felt heavier than the darkness. Beverly sat against the wall, one hand on her stomach, the other clutching a blanket that offered no real warmth. Diro paced near the boarded window, checking the positions of Irene's men every few minutes. Maurice had slumped down with his back against the barricaded door, staring at nothing.Fifty-three minutes left."We should talk," Maurice said finally, breaking the oppressive quiet. "While we still have time. While I can still tell you the truth."Diro stopped pacing. "What truth? You already said I was swapped at birth. That Irene stole me from another family.""I said there were two babies. I did not finish explaining." Maurice reached into his jacket—slowly, because Diro's hand had moved toward his gun—and pulled out a small envelope. "Everything I found is documented. Backed up. Hidden. But the core evidence, the thing that started this whole investigation—it is right here."He opened the envelope and pulled out