All Chapters of The Wife He Burned, The Queen Who Returned : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

The glass walls of Kane Holdings reflected the morning sunlight like a blade. Victor Kane stood at the center of his executive office, staring down at the city thirty floors below. Traffic moved in thin silver lines along the avenues, the distant noise barely reaching the height of the building. On his desk lay a tablet displaying a series of security reports. Each one detailed the same thing. Locations. Movements. Meetings. Most importantly—one specific meeting. Victor tapped the screen once. The image froze on a grainy surveillance still taken from a parking structure security camera. Evelyn’s car. Damian’s car. Parked side by side beneath the dim concrete lighting. The timestamp glowed clearly in the corner. 11:42 PM. Victor didn’t blink as he studied it again. Behind him, his chief of security stood silently, waiting for instructions. “They stayed inside for forty-three minutes,” the man said carefully. Victor said nothing. His gaze remained fixed on the image.

The city was still dark when Damian left Blackwood Tower. The conversation with the firefighter had ended nearly an hour earlier, but the words still echoed in his mind with unsettling clarity. Edward Blackwood. His grandfather. The founder of the Blackwood empire. A man who had built hospitals, research foundations, and entire industries in the name of medical advancement. A man Damian had once admired. And now possibly the man responsible for the chain of events that had nearly killed Evelyn. Damian drove through the quiet streets with the phone resting on the passenger seat beside him. The photograph the witness had sent remained open on the screen. Smoke. Emergency lights. And Edward Blackwood stood calmly near the hospital entrance while chaos unfolded around him. Damian tightened his grip on the steering wheel. If Edward had been there that night, then the fire wouldn’t have been simply a disaster. It had been connected to something he wanted hidden. Something imp

The boardroom vote ended less than an hour ago, but the tension it left behind followed Damian like a shadow. He stood in his office now, staring at the city through the tall glass windows that framed the skyline. Traffic crawled far below like distant veins of movement, unaware that an empire had nearly changed hands that morning. The silence inside the room was heavy. Grant entered quietly, carrying a tablet filled with documents. “The vote results are already hitting financial media,” he said. Damian didn’t turn. “Let them.” Grant placed the tablet on the desk. “Blackwood stock stabilized slightly after the meeting. Investors are interpreting the result as… uncertain.” Damian finally looked at him. “Uncertain is better than hostile.” Grant hesitated. “There’s another development.” Damian’s expression sharpened. Grant opened the tablet and turned it toward him. A file appeared on the screen—one of the investigative reports Damian had been waiting for. “Your investigato

The secure research clinic Damian used for sensitive investigations stood far outside the city limits. It looked more like a quiet private retreat than a medical facility, with low glass buildings surrounded by tall trees and steel gates. Only a handful of trusted specialists worked there, all bound by strict confidentiality agreements. Evelyn arrived just after sunset. Her car rolled slowly through the security checkpoint before stopping in front of the main building. Damian was already waiting near the entrance. He stepped forward as she exited the car. “Everything is ready,” he said quietly. Evelyn nodded once. “How long will the analysis take?” “Initial scans were done earlier today,” Damian replied. “The deeper database search took longer.” Her expression tightened. “You started without me?” “I started preparing the system,” he corrected calmly. “Nothing was opened until you arrived.” That seemed to ease her slightly. Inside the building, the atmosphere felt sterile

The night had grown colder. Wind moved quietly through the narrow streets behind the old financial district, rattling loose metal signs and scattering pieces of trash along the pavement. Most of the offices in the area had closed hours earlier, leaving the streets nearly empty. A single light burned inside a small private investigation office on the second floor of an aging brick building. Daniel Rourke sat behind his desk staring at the screen of his laptop. The room smelled faintly of stale coffee and printer ink. Files were scattered across the table in front of him—hospital diagrams, financial transfer records, and copies of the decrypted server data Damian had asked him to analyze. Rourke rubbed his tired eyes. He had been working on the case for almost three weeks straight. At first it had looked like a typical corporate investigation corrupt executives, erased financial records, maybe some quiet medical malpractice hidden beneath layers of legal protection. But