All Chapters of His Wrong Wife, His Right Obsession : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

CHAPTER FORTY-TWOLAUREN’S POVThe flight back to Seattle felt like sitting inside a loaded gun.Julian said almost nothing.He sat across from me in the private jet, one hand braced on the armrest, the other wrapped around a glass he had not touched in twenty minutes. His chest was bandaged under a black shirt. His face was pale. And his eyes were cold.He looked like he wanted to kill me and kiss me and had not decided which one would annoy him less.I looked away first.“Stop staring,” he said.“I wasn’t.”“You were.”I crossed my arms. “You look like shit. Hard not to notice.”The phone in his hand buzzed. He answered without looking away from me.“Talk.”A pause.His jaw tightened.“Who saw us?”Another pause.“Change the route.”He hung up and leaned back.I swallowed. “What now?”“Seattle is warm.”I frowned. “Warm?”“Dante’s men.” He said it like he was commenting on the weather. “Two of them were seen near the private hangar before takeoff.”My stomach dropped. “So they know

CHAPTER FORTY FOURJulian’s POVThe penthouse was in controlled chaos when I returned. Security personnel moved with clipped efficiency, voices low and urgent. Marcus stood near the central console, phone pressed to his ear, issuing quiet commands.I didn’t raise my voice. “Find her,” I said, the words calm, almost conversational, as I loosened my tie with deliberate slowness. “Every camera feed in the city. Traffic, private security, street surveillance—pull it all. I want my wife located within the hour. Fail, and I’ll ensure none of you work in this hemisphere again.”Marcus met my gaze and gave a sharp nod. “We’re already on it, boss. Silas is reviewing the garage footage as we speak.”I paused, studying him for a beat. “Tell Silas that if he misses even one frame, I will personally see to it that his career ends in a way he’ll never recover from. Quietly. Efficiently.” My tone remained even, but the implication hung heavy in the air. “Get it done.”The front door clicked open be

Lauren’s POV The side office smelled like coffee beans. I sat alone on the hard leather couch, knees pulled up, staring at the blank wall like it might give me answers. Julian had just ordered Silas removed from my direct protection detail with that cold, final voice of his—no room for argument, no explanation beyond “You’re a liability now.” The door clicked shut behind the last guard, and the silence hit like a slap.My mind wouldn’t stop spinning.Julian suspected me. I could feel it in every look he gave me lately, that dangerous calm hiding razor blades. He was circling closer, sniffing out every lie I’d told since I stepped into Serena’s shoes. Then there was Serena herself—my twin, the real one, still out there somewhere, probably scheming with whoever the hell had snatched me. And that woman from the warehouse… the one with the sharp blonde cut and the fifty-day timer ticking in my head. She wanted me to become Julian’s personal thief. Three dangers. All of them circling lik

Lauren’s POV I paced the living room in bare feet, the cool tile biting into my skin with every step. Julian had disappeared into his study again after we came back from bullshit meeting at headquarters, leaving me with nothing but my racing thoughts and the ghost of that warehouse woman's voice in my head. Fifty days. NEREID. Empty the accounts or watch everything burn.I needed air that didn't smell like Julian's cologne and lies.Silas had slipped out earlier without a word, but I knew he was around somewhere. Always was. I hadn't seen him since the file room, but something told me he was already digging.My phone buzzed on the kitchen island. Unknown number. Again.I snatched it up, thumb hovering before I opened the message."The bracelet. Traffic cam caught it on her wrist. Start there. Don't be stupid."I couldn't sit on my ass waiting for Julian to snap my neck or for Serena to crawl out of whatever hole she was hiding in. I needed answers, and I needed them without Julian br

Lauren’s POV The next morning, I woke up with my head pounding like someone had taken a hammer to it. The penthouse felt heavier than usual, the kind of silence that pressed down on your chest. Julian hadn’t come to bed. Again. The sheets on his side were untouched, cold as the rain beating against the Seattle windows.I dragged myself up, ignoring the ache in my muscles from yesterday’s bullshit. My throat still carried faint shadows of bruises from Melbourne, but I wasn’t about to poke at them in the mirror. Not today. I threw on a simple black sweater and jeans—Serena’s closet had plenty of options that didn’t scream “pampered bitch”—and stepped out of the bedroom.The place was locked down tighter than a fucking vault. Extra guards at the doors, cameras blinking at me. Julian stood near the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room, his phone pressed to his ear and his voice was low and sharp.“…I don’t give a shit what it costs. Double the rotations. No one breathes near this