All Chapters of The Wife He Threw Away : Chapter 311 - Chapter 320

We had barely made it three minutes down the road before I remembered something important. I immediately turned toward Lucian. “You shouldn’t be driving.” His hands remained steady on the steering wheel. “I can drive.” “You were shot.” “I know.” “And stabbed.” “I remember that too.” He retorted. “Your wounds aren’t completely healed.” He glanced at me. “Claire.” “What?” “I am not made of glass.” “Yeah, but you don’t need to act like you’re indestructible.” “I feel fine.” “You were in a hospital for weeks.” “And then I spent days recovering at home.” “Exactly.” He smiled, still focused on the road. I narrowed my eyes at him. “You think this is funny?” “A little.” I shook my head, then turned toward the window, trying not to smile. For a few moments, neither of us spoke. The events of the courthouse were still lingering in my mind. Hart’s testimony, Eva’s stare, the messages, my encounter with Eva in the bathroom… And that unsettling certa

“We could renovate.” I said quietly. Lucian looked at me. “I mean the Dhark mansion.” I wiped another tear from my cheek. “We could change things.” He didn’t interrupt. “I know what that house means to you. Memories of your mother, your childhood...” He nodded. “All the beautiful memories you have there there.” I squeezed his hand. “I don’t want you to lose that because of me.” Lucian stared at me for a moment, then he smiled. “You’re the one who taught me that my mother’s memories aren’t trapped inside those walls,” he said. “You told me that on my birthday, remember?” He placed my hand on his chest. “You reminded me that she lives in my heart.” My eyes filled with tears again as I nodded. “She does.” “I know.” He glanced around the room. “And that’s why I don’t need the mansion to keep her.” I stayed silent. Lucian continued. “The truth is, Claire, the mansion isn’t only filled with good memories for me either.” I watched his jaw clench. That’s how I kne

By the time we returned to the Dhark mansion that evening, Camilla already knew. Lucian had sent her a text along with picture attachments of the house. He claimed he hadn’t told her earlier because he feared she might be too excited to keep the secret from me. He wasn’t wrong. We had barely stepped through the front door before Camilla appeared from the hallway with a look that told me she had been waiting for us. “So,” she began. I smiled. “So?” “You bought a house.” Lucian shrugged. “I wish I could have told you earlier.” Camilla crossed her arms. “Me too, Mr. Dhark. I can’t believe you don’t trust me!” Lucian and I broke into fits of laughter. “Camilla.” “And now I’m apparently in charge of choosing which staff members are going with you and which ones are staying here.” “Sounds like fun,” I said. “I’ll help.” She pointed at Lucian. “It’s okay, Lucian already gave a list.” “That sounds like…” I looked at Lucian. “A lot.” Lucian looked offended.

I arrived at the café twenty minutes late—deliberately, of course. There was something satisfying about making people wait for me, particularly when they needed something I could provide. I was wearing enormous sunglasses, a silk scarf wrapped around my hair, and a boring outfit that concealed enough of my appearance to discourage anyone from recognizing me immediately. I had selected the café carefully. It was far enough from the courthouse to avoid the reporters who had been following the trial, but it was public enough that meeting there wouldn’t attract suspicion. Besides, if anyone recognized me, I could always pretend I was simply having coffee. I spotted Caroline almost immediately. She was seated near the window, her short blonde hair falling over her shoulders. A handbag was resting on the chair beside her. I paused to observe her. She looked exactly as I remembered from the photographs: Unremarkable. A little bit tacky. The sort of woman who probably spent

“What were you listening to, Hope?” Hope froze. For a moment, neither of us moved. I watched something flicker across her face. Fear, perhaps. Or surprise. Or both. But it was gone so quickly that I might have imagined it. Then she lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Dhark.” I waited a couple more seconds for her to answer. “I was looking for Mrs. Camilla,” she explained. “I needed to ask her something about the kitchen, but I heard voices when I came down the hallway. I didn’t want to interrupt, so I thought I would wait until you finished speaking.” It was a reasonable explanation. Almost too reasonable. “Then why didn’t you knock?” I watched her closely for a reaction. All I saw was her fingers tighten around the small cloth she was holding. “Because I didn’t want to interrupt a private conversation,” she answered. Also reasonable. I studied her. Hope had worked at the Dhark mansion for years. She was quiet, efficient, and rarely drew attention to hers