All Chapters of The Perfect Wife Walked Away: Chapter 131 - Chapter 136

[Adam’s POV]The ballroom was a sensory assault. Crystal chandeliers dripped light onto a sea of tuxedos and evening gowns, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfume, champagne, and the faint, metallic tang of greed. It was the charity gala of the year, a playground for the wealthy to pat themselves on the back for writing checks that were merely rounding errors in their bank accounts.I stood at the edge of the room, leaning against the polished mahogany of the bar. In my hand, a tumbler of Scotch sat untouched, the amber liquid swirling lazily with ice cubes that were slowly melting.I wasn't here to drink. I wasn't here to celebrate. I was here because I had no choice.Across the room, Marie was in her element. She stood in the center of a vocal circle of socialites, a vision in shimmering, silver silk. Her laughter rang out above the din of the orchestra — bright, bell-like, and utterly devoid of substance. She glowed under the flash of cameras, her smile practiced and per

[Alice’s POV]Toby was lying on a narrow cot in the center of the room. He looked smaller than he had in the photos, frailer, his body curled inward as if trying to protect itself from an invisible attacker.His mother, a woman named Elena, sat beside him, her hands knotted together in her lap so tightly her knuckles were white. She didn't look up when Endall and I entered. She just stared at her son, her eyes rimmed with red, praying to a god she wasn't sure was listening.The air in the room was thick, suffocating. It felt like the moments before a storm, where the pressure drops and the world holds its breath.I set the metal case on the table and popped the latches. The sound echoed like a gunshot. Inside, nestled in the foam, sat the vial of R4310. It glowed faintly in the dim light, a silent promise."Is it... is it ready?" Elena whispered, finally looking at me. Her voice was scraped raw."It's ready," I said. My voice sounded strange to my own ears — calm, detached. Profession

[Alice’s POV]Success was a drug, potent and immediate.For the next forty-eight hours, the bunker became a blur of adrenaline, espresso, and sheer, desperate willpower. We fell into a rhythm, a dangerous dance of chemistry and survival. Endall and I stopped being two individuals; we became a single, synchronized organism.We didn't need to speak. He would hand me a beaker; I would pass him a reagent. We exchanged glances across the lab bench that spoke volumes — confirming stability, warning of pressure changes, celebrating the microscopic shifts in color that meant we were winning.We produced three more vials. Three lives. Three victories against death itself.By the second night, Endall’s eyes were bloodshot, the dark circles bruising his skin, but there was a feverish brightness in his gaze. He slammed a notebook onto the metal table; pages filled with frantic calculations."We can scale up! If we bypass the automated mixing stage and do it manually, we can double the yield. It r