All Chapters of His Wrong Wife, His Right Obsession : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Lauren’s POV I paced the living room for what felt like the hundredth time, still jumpy from Julian’s little “test” at breakfast. That drive had sat on the table like a fucking landmine. One wrong move and I’d have blown everything. My hands still itched from how close I’d come to grabbing it.I needed air that didn’t taste like Julian’s suspicion.Instead, I ended up in Serena’s old walk-in closet—the one I barely touched because it still smelled like her expensive perfumes. The jewelry case sat on the vanity like it was waiting for me. I flipped it open, mostly to kill time, mostly because my brain wouldn’t shut up about Vivian Moreau and that goddamn NEREID account.My fingers brushed against the velvet lining at the bottom. Something crinkled. I froze.A small, folded piece of paper had been tucked underneath the felt. I pulled it out slowly. It was thin, yellowed at the edges, covered in what looked like random letters and numbers scribbled in Serena’s messy handwriting.“X7K9-P

Lauren’s POV I paced the bedroom, with my phone clutched so tight my knuckles hurt. The door to the study was closed, but I could hear his low voice on a call. My stomach hadn’t settled since that last message from the unknown number. Serena was alive. And whoever held her wanted me to destroyed everything down from the inside.Was she even "held"?My phone buzzed. An unknown number again. I opened it fast.“Tick tock, Lauren. The key. Or I stop being nice.”“Fuck you,” I whispered, deleting it.A soft knock on the bedroom door made me jump. I opened it a crack. Silas stood there, with his jaw tight and his eyes scanning the hall behind him.“Not here,” I hissed. “Julian’s in the study.”“We need to talk. Now. I got a lead on Vivian Moreau.” His voice was low, urgent. “One of my contacts traced a private address tied to a shell account under the Aurelia Trust. It’s not far. We verify it tonight before Julian’s people sniff it out.”I stepped back, my heart hammering in my chest. “No

Lauren’s POV I slipped out of the penthouse just after two in the morning, my heart hammering in my chest. Julian had been watching me again all night—those dark eyes following every move I made, like he was waiting for me to crack. We hadn’t fucked, hadn’t even touched, but the air between us felt thicker than usual. Suffocating. I’d lain there pretending to sleep while he worked at his desk across the room, the low glow of his laptop casting shadows on his face. Every time I shifted, he looked up. Every damn time.I couldn’t take it anymore. The unknown number on Serena’s phone kept buzzing with cryptic shit. Silas was the only one who might have real answers without putting a bullet in my head for asking. Julian had already cut him loose, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t find him.The city lights blurred past the cab window as I hunched low in the back seat, Serena’s oversized coat wrapped around me like a shitty disguise. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Street smarts from years in

Lauren’s POV The gala was Julian's idea of a leash.Three hours of champagne flutes and designer smiles and men who looked at me like they were calculating what I was worth. Julian stayed close the entire night—hand at my back, lips near my ear, voice low enough that only I could catch the threat wrapped inside every compliment he paid me in front of his associates. *You look stunning tonight, Serena.* Translation: *Don't embarrass me.* *Stay close.* Translation: *I see every move you make.*I played the part. Smiled when I was supposed to. Laughed at the right moments. Touched his arm like I meant it.I was exhausted by the time we stepped outside into the cold Seattle night.The rain had started while we were inside—the kind that doesn't come down hard, just exists, a grey steady presence that soaks through everything eventually. Valets were scrambling and Julian's driver was pulling the car around. I stood under the shade with my arms crossed, wishing I could rip off Serena's heel

Lauren’s POV The coffee shop Silas had picked was the kind of place nobody looked twice at.No marble countertops. No overpriced lattes with foam art. Just scuffed stools, a counter that had seen better years, and a cashier who looked like she was still half asleep. The kind of place I would have killed for on a twelve-hour poker shift, back when surviving meant showing up and not showing weakness.He was already there when I walked in, tucked into the farthest booth, back to the wall. Old habit. Smart habit. I knew it because I had the same one.I slid in across from him without a greeting."You're late," he said."Julian asked where I was going." I pulled off my coat and dropped it beside me. "Had to spend ten minutes convincing him I wanted air, not an escape route."Silas's jaw tightened slightly. He wrapped both hands around his mug and said nothing.That was the thing about him. He never pushed. Never pried. He just waited, and somehow that was worse, because it gave me nowhere