The Wife Who Returned のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 31 - チャプター 40

I stayed in that bathroom for another ten minutes after the Entity’s voice faded. Splashed cold water on my face. Steadied my breathing. I fixed my makeup to hide the evidence of terror. Six years. The words echoed in my head as I walked back to my desk. Smiled at James when he asked if I was feeling better. Nodded at colleagues. Pretended everything was fine. But my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. By 5 PM, I couldn’t take it anymore. Grabbed my bag, told my team I had a headache, and headed for the elevator. I needed air. Space. Time to process what had just happened. The Entity was real. Watching. Counting down. And I had no idea what it wanted when the six years were up. The lobby was crowded with end-of-day traffic. I pushed through, headed for the exit, my mind spinning with questions I couldn’t answer. That’s when I saw her. Maribel. She was standing just outside the main doors, her back to me, pacing like a caged animal. Even from behind, I could tell something was wro

White ceiling. That was the first thing I saw when my eyes opened. Smooth, sterile white with those textured tiles that were supposed to be calming, but just screamed institution. I knew that ceiling. Had spent two years of my first life staring at different versions of it while cancer ate me alive. Hospital. I was so damn sure it wasn’t heaven. Hell, maybe. Some cosmic joke where I was doomed to die in hospitals over and over for eternity. But then I felt it, pain. Sharp and focused in my abdomen, radiating outward with each breath. And beneath that, something else. Weight. Warmth. On my legs. I turned my head slowly, carefully, and my breath caught. Lucien. He was slumped in a chair pulled up to the bed, his upper body draped across my legs, head resting on his folded arms. Asleep. His hair was messy, falling across his forehead. His shirt was wrinkled, like he’d been wearing it for days. Dark circles shadowed his eyes. He looked exhausted. Destroyed. Beautiful. I was aliv

⚠️ CONTENT WARNING ⚠️This chapter contains strong language and explicit sexual content and is intended for readers aged 16 and older only.If you are under 16 or uncomfortable with this type of content, please skip this chapter.Read at your own discretion.✦ ✦ ✦The conversation about the mark still hung between us like smoke, thick, impossible to ignore. Lucien’s forehead stayed pressed to mine, his hands trembling over my own, the faint burn of my scar a quiet warning against my neck. We didn’t speak after that. We simply breathed each other in until exhaustion pulled me under again.Morning light filtered through the blinds when I woke. Lucien was exactly where he’d been all night, barely leaving my side. His curls were wild, his eyes heavy with the kind of exhaustion that came from watching someone you loved almost die. He hadn’t slept more than an hour at a time in days.Vivienne arrived first, heels sharp and purposeful. She looked every inch the avenging sister in her tailo

The final journal entry still burned behind my eyes as Lucien carried me straight from the dining table into the master bedroom. Shared fate can be negotiated… transferred… transformed. But never without sacrifice.The words clung to the air like smoke. He lowered me onto the king bed without asking, his movements careful but decisive, that stern set to his jaw telling me the conversation was already over.“You’re staying here,” he said, voice low and final as he pulled the blanket over me. “No guest room. No arguments.”I opened my mouth anyway, old habit, the whisper that I was already too much, but he gave me that look. The brooding, unyielding one that used to make entire boardrooms fall silent. My lips pressed shut. I nodded.He exhaled, the smallest softening around his eyes. “Good.” He brushed a curl from my forehead, thumb lingering. “Sleep. I’ll be right here.”And he was. Every night. Every time the stitches pulled, or the Entity’s countdown ghosted across my neck, his hand w

The motel room smelled like mold and cheap bleach, the kind that burned your nostrils but never quite covered the rot underneath. I paced the stained carpet, my phone clutched in my fist, staring at the last message I'd sent to the hired muscle. Finish it. Now. No response. Just silence, like the world had decided to swallow every last bit of my luck.I was broke. Worse than broke. The accounts I'd siphoned from Vale were frozen, Lucien's doing, no doubt. That shadow-lurking bastard had always been one step ahead, even when we were kids. And now he had her. Seraphine. My Seraphine. The thought twisted in my gut like a knife. She was supposed to be dead by now. Weak, broken, signing everything over in her final days. Instead, she was alive, glowing, wrapped in my brother's arms like some fairy-tale ending I never got.The door creaked open, and Maribel slipped in, her once-perfect Reverie model face smudged with mascara, hair tangled like she'd been running from ghosts. She carried a g