All Chapters of Married To My Husband’s Father : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Forty-eight hours had passed since the violent blast echoed through the eighty-eighth floor of Vance Global Tower.The glass doors of Bowen’s Hospital slid open with a soft hiss, Evelyn walked out slowly onto the covered drive. Her slender frame looked slightly smaller beneath her cream-colored high-sleeved sweater and trousers. A small white square of medical tape remained near the right side of her hairline, covering a faint scrape where the soot had burned into her skin. Her steps were cautious, her flat shoes making almost no sound against the pavement.Beside her, Arthur Vance moved like an iron shield.His right arm was raised slightly behind Evelyn’s back, his large hand hovering an inch away from her waist, ready to catch her if her feet faltered even for a fraction of a second. His eyes scanned the open yard, the parked cars, and the distant street corner with a cold, slow intensity."I can walk by myself, Arthur," Evelyn said softly. Her voice was still slightly raspy but h

Thirty minutes later, Julian’s car pulled up to the curb in front of Thomas Henderson’s private residence.Julian stepped out of his car. He buttoned his suit jacket, smoothed down his hair with both hands, and took a slow, deep breath to steady his racing pulse.He walked up the stone steps, his leather shoes making solid, echoing sounds against the steps.He reached the door. He extended his right hand, his index finger pressing the button of the doorbell.From inside the house, a soft two-tone chime echoed through the halls.Julian stood on the porch, his hands resting inside his coat pockets. His heart was beating fast against his ribs, but he forced his face into a relaxed and neutral mask.The door swung open three inches, then stopped.Chloe stood in the opening.She held the edge of the door with her right hand.The moment her eyes fell on Julian’s face, her whole body froze.Her eyebrows pulled up in immediate, genuine shock. Her lips parted slightly, her eyes widening as she

Later that night, while Thomas slept, Chloe stood by the vanity counter in Thomas's room. Her fingertips traced the rim of an empty glass. Her eyes fixed on the comb sitting beside the mirror. A few stray strands were caught in the bristles—Thomas’s hair.Julian had taken some. She had seen him do it. He thought he was being smooth, but she had caught the quick, calculated moves.Chloe pulled her chair back and sat down, leaning her elbows on the surface. Thomas was not her father. She had known that for a long time. If Julian wanted to play investigator with a dying man's hair, let him.She stood up, pushed the comb into the top drawer, and slammed it shut. She had rent to pay, bills stacking on the counter, and a life that was slipping through her fingers like loose sand. Thomas’s secrets couldn't buy her a meal.Across the Vance Manor, the door connecting the private study to the master bedroom clicked open.The room was dim, lit only by the low amber glow of the fireplace. Arthur

Julian’s hand went up to his hair, his fingers gripping the dark strands tightly as he stared at the drawn blinds. The house was dead quiet, but for the first time in his life, Julian felt like he was standing in the middle of a crowded room with a hundred eyes staring directly at his back.By mid-afternoon, the sun had fully broken through the clouds over the estate, throwing sharp, bright rays across the long glass conservatory that attached to the eastern wing of the main house.The room was warm, smelling heavily of damp soil, blooming jasmine, and rich green ferns. Large green potted plants lined the stone walls, their leaves fanning out over white benches.Evelyn stood near a tall ficus tree, a small pair of shears in her hand.She was trimming the dead leaves off the lower branches, but her movements were jerky and unfocused. Every time the iron blades clicked together, her mind flashed back to the breakfast table. She could still feel the cold weight of Dona Margaret’s pale

Early the next morning, the sun was just beginning to break through the thick fog hanging over the city streets. Julian stepped out through the front door of his apartment building. He was wearing a dark grey suit, his black necktie slightly crooked at his collar. He carried a briefcase in his left hand, his eyes bloodshot and tired from another restless night spent pacing his living room floor. He walked down the three steps leading to the parking lot. The air was cold and damp. Julian reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his car keys. He pressed the unlock button. The yellow side lights of his car flashed twice. He took three steps toward the driver's side door, stopping abruptly right beside the front bumper. Something was sitting flat against the glass of his windscreen. Julian paused. His hand tightened around his car keys, the metal edges digging into his palm. He didn't move for three full seconds. His eyes swept over the quiet parking lot. A stray cat ran under