บททั้งหมดของ The Wife He Burned, The Queen Who Return : บทที่ 81 - บทที่ 90

Morning light filtered through the tall windows of Blackwood Tower, casting pale reflections across Damian’s office floor. He had not slept. The footage from the Aurora lab replayed endlessly in his mind. Edward was standing beside the chamber. Doctors discussing genetic compatibility. Silas is sleeping in the crib like an experiment rather than a child. Damian leaned back in his chair, staring at the large board across the room where Grant had pinned every piece of the investigation they had uncovered so far. Photographs. Names. Timelines. Connections. At the center of the board, one word had been written in thick black marker. AURORA Underneath it, another name had been added the night before. S-V-017 — Silas Damian hated seeing his son’s name on an investigation wall. But the truth demanded clarity. Grant entered the office quietly carrying a folder. “You’re still here.” Damian didn’t look up. “You found something.” Grant placed the folder on the desk. “I migh

Victor Kane’s office was dark except for the glow of the screens. Five monitors filled the wall behind his desk, each displaying a different camera feed. Some showed quiet streets. Others showed corporate buildings. One showed the distant gate leading to Evelyn’s estate. Victor sat alone in the room, unmoving. The same video clip played again. And again. And again. Evelyn stepped out of her car earlier that evening. Her coat was moving slightly in the wind. The way she paused briefly before entering the house. Victor watched the footage with intense concentration, as though he might uncover something new each time. But he wasn’t really looking for new details. He was looking at her. His finger tapped the desk slowly as the video looped once more. “You look tired,” he murmured. His voice barely filled the empty room. “Working too hard again.” The video restarted. Victor leaned back slightly in his chair. For five years he had watched over her life careful

Morning traffic moved slowly along the quiet street outside St. Augustine Academy. Parents dropped off children near the front gate, engines idling briefly before merging back into the steady line of cars heading toward the city center. Laughter echoed faintly across the courtyard where students gathered before the morning bell. It looked like any normal school day. Safe. Routine. Damian stood across the street beside a small coffee shop window, watching the entrance. He held an untouched cup of coffee in one hand, his attention fixed entirely on the school gate. Silas appeared a few minutes later. The boy walked beside his security escort, his backpack hanging slightly too large against his shoulders. His dark hair shifted in the breeze as he glanced around the courtyard with quiet curiosity. Damian felt a familiar tightening in his chest. Even after weeks of seeing the boy, the reality still felt strange. Silas moved with the same calm confidence Damian remembered from hi

Night settled heavily over Evelyn’s estate. The property stretched across several quiet acres at the edge of the city, surrounded by tall iron gates and thick rows of old trees that shielded the house from the main road. Security lights glowed softly along the driveway, and the distant hum of the surveillance system filled the silence. On the surface, everything looked calm. Inside the house, Silas sat cross-legged on the living room floor with a box of building blocks scattered around him. Evelyn watched from the couch. He was focused, carefully stacking the pieces into a tall structure that leaned slightly to one side. “You’re building a tower again,” she said softly. Silas nodded without looking up. “It’s a hospital.” Her chest tightened. “A hospital?” “Yes.” He placed another block on the structure. “This one won’t burn.” Evelyn’s breath caught slightly. Children remembered more than adults believed. Before she could respond, footsteps sounded near the entrance hal

The estate felt different after the attack. Security lights flooded the gardens outside, turning the quiet grounds into a maze of moving shadows and armed patrols. Guards walked the perimeter in steady rotations, their radios whispering through the night air. Inside the house, everything was unnaturally quiet. Too quiet. Evelyn sat on the edge of Silas’s bed while the boy slept. Or at least pretended to. His breathing was uneven, his small fingers still gripping the blanket as if he feared someone might pull it away. The events of the evening had shaken him more than he tried to show. Evelyn brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. “You’re safe,” she whispered gently. Silas didn’t open his eyes, but his hand shifted slightly toward hers. She held it. Across the room, Damian stood near the window, watching the security lights sweep across the garden. His jacket was gone now, his sleeves rolled halfway up his arms. A faint bruise had already begun to darken along his jaw