บททั้งหมดของ The Wife He Burned, The Queen Who Return : บทที่ 131 - บทที่ 140

The forest did not move. It felt wrong. Even the air seemed to hold its breath, as if the world itself understood that something irreversible had just happened. Evelyn stood in the clearing, her chest rising and falling too fast, her hands still trembling at her sides. The place where the helicopter had been was empty now—just torn leaves, disturbed earth, and silence that pressed against her ears. Silas was gone. The thought didn’t settle. It circled. It resisted meaning. Gone. Damian stood a few steps away, shoulders tight, breathing controlled in that way that meant he was forcing it. His body was still recovering from the hit, but he didn’t feel it anymore. Pain had moved somewhere else. Somewhere deeper. Victor lingered behind them, watching. Not interfering. Not yet. Evelyn turned slowly. Her eyes found Damian again. This time there was no shock in them. No disbelief. Just something sharper. “Say something.” Her voice was low, strained. Damian didn’t answer imm

The house was too quiet. It wasn’t the natural quiet of night, the kind that settled gently and let people rest. This silence felt wrong. Heavy. Like something had been taken out of the space, leaving behind a hollow that echoed. Evelyn stood just inside the doorway of Silas’s room. She hadn’t meant to come here. Her feet had brought her without asking. The door was slightly open. The faint scent of detergent and something softer—something that belonged only to him—lingered in the air. For a moment, she couldn’t step inside. Her hand rested against the doorframe, fingers pressing lightly into the wood as if it could steady her. Then she pushed the door open. Slowly. Carefully. Like she was afraid of what she might find. Or what she wouldn’t. The room looked the same. That was the worst part. The bed was still unmade from that morning, the blanket twisted near the edge where Silas always kicked it off in his sleep. A small toy car lay on the floor near the desk, one whee

The first thing Silas noticed was the cold. Not the kind that made you shiver right away. This was quieter than that. It sat on his skin, slipped under it, settled somewhere deep until it became impossible to ignore. His fingers twitched. Slow. Heavy. Like they didn’t fully belong to him yet. He tried to move again. This time, his arm shifted slightly. Something soft brushed against his wrist. Fabric. Not his. His eyes opened. At first, everything was too bright. White. Blinding white that made him squint immediately. His lashes fluttered as he tried to focus, his vision swimming in and out like he was still half asleep. He blinked again. Shapes started forming. A ceiling. Flat. Smooth. Too clean. Lights embedded above him, steady and artificial. No shadows. That felt wrong. Silas frowned slightly. His head hurt. Not sharply, just enough to make everything feel slower than it should be. He swallowed. His throat was dry. “…Mom?” The word came out weak. It d

Night settled around them like something watchful. The safehouse they had moved into was smaller than the last one. Tighter. Temporary. A place meant for hiding, not living. The kind of place that didn’t ask questions and didn’t offer comfort. One dim light stayed on in the living room. Everything else was shadow. Victor had taken the front room, working through calls, contacts, pieces of information that came in fragments and never quite formed a complete picture. His voice had gone quiet hours ago. Now it was just silence. Damian stood near the window. Not looking out—there wasn’t much to see—but listening. Always listening. For movement. For anything out of place. For something that would tell him where to go next. But nothing came. Only the low hum of electricity. The faint sound of wind brushing against the walls. And something softer behind him. A shift. He didn’t turn immediately. He already knew it was her. Evelyn stepped into the room slowly. She hadn’t sl

No one spoke for a moment. Victor’s words didn’t just land they settled. Heavy. Unavoidable. Damian didn’t blink. “Say it again.” Victor held his gaze. “I know where they took him.” Evelyn stepped forward before Damian could respond. “Where?” Her voice wasn’t loud. But it carried something sharper than urgency. It carried a need. Victor didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he turned toward the table and tapped the screen. The digital map shifted. Zooming out first. Then narrowing. Layers of terrain appeared—roads, regions, satellite markers. Then— One section highlighted. Remote. Isolated. Surrounded by nothing but dark terrain and uneven topography. Evelyn stared at it. “That’s…” Her voice trailed. Because it didn’t look like anything. No city. No hospital. No structure labeled. Just emptiness. Victor spoke quietly. “It’s not on standard maps.” Damian stepped closer. His eyes scanned the coordinates. “How far?” “Several hours by ground.” “Air?” V