Lahat ng Kabanata ng His Wrong Wife, His Right Obsession : Kabanata 121 - Kabanata 130

Lauren’s POV The air in the abandoned safe house tasted like dust and old, rotting wood. I leaned against the rusted metal table, my hand unconsciously dropping down to my stomach. It was a habit I was trying so hard to break, especially when I was around Silas, but tonight my nerves were completely shot up. Every single muscle in my body felt tight, like a rubber band stretched right to its breaking point.Julian’s face from the night of the party kept flashing in my mind vividly. I couldn't shake it. The sheer, unhinged rage in his dark eyes when that wealthy investor had dared to touch my arm–it just didn't make any sense. He didn't even remember who I really was. Thanks to the attack and his amnesia, he honestly thought I was just his wife's sister. To him, I was just a needy stranger staying in his house, a shadow in the background. Yet, he had nearly broken that man's jaw right in front of Serena and a room full of people.Why the hell did he care so much if he didn't remember

Julian's POVI was going out of my fucking mind.Seven days. Seven whole fucking days since I made the conscious choice to stop looking for her, to stop breathing the same air as her, to stop letting her existence pull at parts of my brain I couldn't control. I thought it would work. I was Julian Cross. I didn't get led around by my nose, especially not by some girl who claimed to be my wife's twin sister but looked at me like she was looking at my soul.But hiding from Lauren in my own damn house was the hardest thing I’d ever done.I sat at the massive mahogany desk in my study, the leather chair feeling more like a cage than a seat. The room was dark, lit only by the green lamp on the corner of the desk. It was past midnight. The rest of the penthouse was dead silent, but my chest felt like a bomb waiting to go off."Boss?"Marcus’s voice broke the quietness. He didn't knock. He never did when it was late and he knew I was in a foul mood. He stepped into the room, holding a folder,

Julian’s POV The rain pattered across the massive glass windows of my penthouse, blurring the Seattle skyline into gray and black. It was past midnight. The rest of the city was quiet, but inside these walls, the air felt thick, heavy, and hot.I stood by the bar, pouring a glass of amber liquid I didn't even want. My mind was a complete wreck. For weeks, I had been drowning in a strange, angry confusion. The woman sleeping in my master bedroom–the woman my papers said was my wife, Serena–felt like a total stranger. But the girl currently sitting on the long leather couch across the room? She was the one driving me insane.Lauren was staring at a stack of printed reports Marcus had brought over earlier. She wasn’t a corporate executive. She didn't know the first thing about complex mergers or offshore banking tricks. But she had been sitting there for three hours, stubbornly turning the pages anyway, trying to find any mention of her sister's disappearance."You're going to burn a ho

Serena's POV The glowing screen of my laptop cast a harsh blue light over my face. The penthouse was dead silent, but my chest was heaving so hard I thought my ribs would snap. I stared at the grainy security footage playing on a loop. It was from the bar lounge where Julian and that little bitch Lauren were last night.My fingers dug into the edge of the desk until my fake nails bent.On the screen, Julian, my husband, had Lauren pinned against a wall. His hands were buried in her hair, pulling her face up to his like he was a starving man and she was his only salvation. And her? The street rat was kissing him back, her hands gripping his shirt like she belonged there."You fucking bastard," I whispered, the words scraping against my throat.They looked desperate. They looked completely and violently consumed by each other.I slammed the laptop shut. The sharp crack echoed through the bedroom, but it didn't stop the image from burning into the back of my eyelids.My sister. My cheap

Serena's POV Watching Julian and that fucking rat Lauren on the surveillance footage had done something to my brain. Seeing his hands on her, seeing the way he pressed his mouth against hers like she was the only drop of water in a desert, it made me want to rip the skin right off her face.He never looked at me like that. Not before I disappeared, and certainly not now that I was back.I stood in front of the vanity in my private dressing room, staring at my reflection. I looked perfect. The silk robe I wore cost more than Lauren made in a year dealing cards in those disgusting underground dens. But Julian didn't see the silk. He didn't see the perfection. Every time he looked at me lately, his eyes were like two pieces of flint, trying to strike a spark that just wasn't there anymore."Fucking asshole," I muttered, opening the false bottom of my velvet jewelry box.Inside lay a tiny, amber glass bottle. It was no bigger than my pinky finger, filled with a clear, viscous liquid. Viv