บททั้งหมดของ REBORN TO LOVE MY FATHER-IN-LAW: บทที่ 171 - บทที่ 180

Scarlett's POV "Marco," my father said, turning from the window. The name landed in the study like something thrown hard against stone. I looked at Lilith. She looked at me. Reed closed the laptop with a sound that was very quiet in a room that had suddenly become very loud in every way except noise. "Marco Virelli," Dominic repeated. "Still in the dungeon…has been since the attack." He was already moving toward the door. "Dominic," I called. He stopped. "Not alone," I told him. He looked at me over his shoulder. The look that meant he had already decided, the look that was not negotiable, the look I had learned to read accurately enough to know when to push against it, when not to. I did not push. He went alone. I stood in the study with Lilith, Reed alongside, the laptop between us, the printed signature still on the desk. None of us spoke for a moment. Lilith picked the page up again, turned it over, and set it back down. Reed opened the laptop and closed it. I folded m

Luca's POV "What do I actually want?" I said it out loud to the desk without drama. Just testing whether the question still had the same weight it had carried two days ago when I wrote it down. It did. The paper was in the drawer. The word I had written under the question was in the drawer with it. I had opened the drawer four times in two days, read the word, and closed the drawer again. Not because I doubted the answer. Because I was trying to understand whether the answer was the same word when things went wrong as it was when things were quiet. And this morning…. Reed had found a birth record in Cain's office documentation. A third child. I had heard about it through the corridor, Lilith's voice from the study, controlled but carrying the edge it carried when something had arrived that required the controlled version of her rather than the easy one. I had not gone in. I had stood in the corridor for thirty seconds, turned around, and gone back to my room. Opened the drawe

Scarlett's POV"I know who wrote it," Zara told Lilith.Lilith came to the study with Zara beside her, the folder between them, both of them moving with the particular energy of people who had arrived at something before the room was ready for it.I looked up from the desk where I had been working through the welfare inspection timeline. Dominic was at the window. Reed was at the table. Luca stood near the door, which had become his position in briefings lately, close enough to contribute, far enough not to claim the room.Lilith set the folder on the desk."Reed pulled this from Morrow's private correspondence," she opened, without preamble. "Dated fourteen months ago before the Ivory group and even before Collins. And the most shocking part was, it was dated before the first marker was repositioned." She opened the cover. "Read the first page."I read the first page.Then I read the second.The letter was not addressed to anyone by name. It was structured as an intelligence summary,

Scarlett's POV"You are staring at me again," Dominic said from the window, not turning around."I am observing," I told him. "There is a difference.”He turned then, coffee in hand, the morning light sitting across his shoulders in the unhurried way of a winter dawn that had nowhere urgent to be. He looked at me the way he looked at things he found worth looking at, thoroughly, without apology.I had been learning his mornings for weeks now.The order of them. Coffee first, before anything, before conversation, before the pack's weight arrived through the phone or the radio or the knock at the study door. Three things read before he spoke to anyone, two always pack documents, one always something that had nothing to do with the pack at all, a habit I had not asked about because I suspected the answer was private. The window he stood at, the east-facing one, looking toward the boundary, his wolf was reading the territory even through the glass. The way his face was different in those

Scarlett's POV "She came to the pack this morning," he said. "Through the north gate." I turned from the window. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, still dressed, later than either of us usually stayed up, the lamp on the bedside table throwing its low amber light across the room. He had been carrying something since morning. I had seen it in the way he moved through the day, not differently from his usual movement, but with the extra weight distributed through his shoulders, which meant he was holding something he had not decided how to give yet. I had not pushed. I had learned his timing. I sat down beside him. He looked at me for a moment. Then he reached up, took my face in his hands, tilted it up in the way he always did before he said something that was going to cost him, waiting until my eyes were fully on his. "Vessel told me something," he said. "This morning in the garden. I have been working out how to tell you." I held his gaze. "Tell me," I said. He held my