The Wife He Never Loved のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 101 - チャプター 110

Third Person POV Margaret sat at her desk in the small back office of Myles Gallery, sorting through the morning mail. The gallery was quiet this morning, the usual hum of visitors and staff still a few hours away. She sipped her coffee, enjoying the rare moment of peace.A plain white envelope caught her eye. No return address. Just her name written in neat, hurried handwriting.She tore it open.Inside was a single sheet of paper.Margaret,This is Jason Hartley. I was stabbed last night. I’m at St. Mary’s Hospital. Please tell Aria I need to speak with her urgently. It’s about something very important. Tell her to be very careful. I’m sorry for everything.JasonMargaret stared at the letter, her fingers tightening around the paper until it crinkled.Her heart started beating faster.Jason Hartley … the handsome, powerful ex-husband who had looked so good the last time he came to the gallery. The man who had two women fighting over him. The man Aria had walked away from.And now

Third Person POV Lucien Moreau paced the dimly lit living room of his isolated estate like a caged animal.The clock on the wall read 3:17 a.m. He had been drinking for hours … expensive whiskey that burned down his throat but did nothing to quiet the storm in his head. The bottle was nearly empty now, yet sleep refused to come.He stopped in front of the large mirror on the wall and stared at his reflection. His shirt was unbuttoned, hair disheveled, eyes wild with that familiar manic energy. As the Circle’s executioner for years, he had learned to bury every emotion. Cute girls, fear, tears … none of it touched him anymore. He had seen too much. Done too much. Broken too many.But Elena…That small, bleeding woman with fire in her eyes.She had looked at him with pure disgust and kept fighting.No begging. No tears. Just raw, unbroken spirit.It had shocked him to his core.Lucien poured the last of the whiskey and downed it in one gulp. The alcohol did nothing. His mind kept rep

Third Person POV She sat on the edge of the bed, phone pressed tightly to her ear, heart hammering against her ribs. The line rang once, then went straight to voicemail. Again.“Elena… pick up,” she whispered, voice cracking. She tried a second time. The automated voice repeated the same cold message: The number you are trying to reach is switched off or no longer in service.Just like Claire’s number. That after the short, polite text saying she was relocating for work and wouldn’t be reachable for a while. There had been absolutely no calls. No replies. Nothing.Her fingers trembled as she lowered the phone. The room felt too small, the air too thick. A wave of dizziness washed over her, making the edges of her vision blur. She didn’t know who to trust anymore. Everything in this family felt wrong … layered, hidden, rotten beneath the surface.She couldn’t sit here waiting for answers that would never come.Grabbing her jacket and the old leather-bound book she had found in her u

Jason's POV Where am I?My eyes opened to nothing but darkness and haze. Everything felt bottomless, like I was floating in an endless black sea. The pain in my side was a dull roar, but it was distant, muffled, as if my body belonged to someone else. I tried to move, but my limbs felt heavy, and disconnected. Machines beeped somewhere far away, steady and cold.I blinked hard, forcing my vision to clear.A long hallway stretched before me, marble floors stretching into shadows that never ended. I knew this place. The old family house. The one that still haunted my nightmares.I started walking. My bare feet made no sound.I had walked a very long distance when I saw him.My father stood at the end of the hallway, tall and imposing, wearing the same dark suit he always wore when he wanted to remind everyone who held the power.“Well done, son,” he said, his voice echoing like it came from all directions at once. A cold smile spread across his face. “You’re doing well. Handling the

Third Person POV Kyle stood in the middle of his living room, arms crossed, staring down at the wreck of a woman on his floor.“So what do you want with me, Violet?” His voice was ice-cold. “Didn’t we agree you would never come to my house again?”Violet looked up at him, mascara-streaked face twisted in desperation. She crawled forward on her knees, grabbing the hem of his pants.“Well, things aren’t exactly okay right now,” she sobbed. “I stabbed Jason. He rejected me and I… I lost control. I didn’t mean to, but he was going to leave me for good and I…”“Which was stupid,” Kyle cut her off sharply. “We agreed to take the company and then share it, didn’t we? You let your emotions get the best of you, sweetheart. That was stupid as fuck.”Violet’s shoulders shook with violent sobs. She pressed her forehead against his leg, clinging to him like a drowning person.“I know… I know I messed up,” she cried. “But I did it for us. For you. Everything I’ve done has been for you. Please, K