Chasing The Wife He Discarded のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 31 - チャプター 40

Lysander's POVWe got back from Lumen a little after midnight, and Seraphina fell asleep before I'd even finished locking up the terrace doors. I stood in the doorway of the guest suite for a minute, just watching her breathe, thinking that maybe tonight had actually fixed something.I should've known better than to think that.I woke up around three to the sound of her gasping."Seraphina?"She was curled on her side, both arms wrapped around her stomach, her face white as the sheets."Something's wrong," she said, her voice thin. "It hurts."I was already reaching for my phone. "How bad?""Bad." She sucked in a breath through her teeth. "It's like cramping, but worse. Sharp.""Okay. Okay, don't move." My hands weren't steady, which annoyed me, because I needed them to be. I found Dr. Anh's contact and hit call before I'd even thought it through.She picked up on the second ring, already awake, already sharp. "Mr. Blackwood.""It's Seraphina. She's in pain, bad pain, in her stomach.

Lysander's POVGet me Whitfield's license number.Five words. I read them three times, waiting for them to explain themselves. They didn't.I typed back: Why.No reply came. Anh didn't do explanations until she was ready to give them, I was learning that fast.I didn't sleep that night. I sat in the study with Whitfield's practice website open on my laptop, staring at a photo of the man smiling in front of a row of framed degrees, like the picture could tell me something his voice on the phone hadn't.Seraphina asked about it in the morning, over coffee she'd made herself for once."You're up early.""Couldn't sleep.""Still thinking about last night?" She slid a cup toward me, her hand steady. "The doctor overreacted, Lysander. You saw how fast the pain went away.""Maybe.""You don't sound convinced.""I'm tired." I took the coffee and didn't drink it. "That's all it is."She studied me a second too long before she let it go.Anh didn't come to the house again. She texted two days l

Nerissa's POV How old. I sent it and set the phone face-up on the desk, which was a mistake, because now I couldn't stop watching it. Priya didn't text back. She showed up at my door eleven minutes later, laptop already open, one strand of hair loose from her usually perfect twist. "Five years," she said, before I'd even told her to come in. "Give or take a month." "Give or take which direction." "Before." She crossed the room and set the laptop in front of me, angled so I could see the screen. Rows of transfers, thin gray lines connecting boxes with names I didn't recognize. "The account's called Anders Cole Maritime Holdings. Three shells deep, registered out of the Caymans. Mostly dormant. Wakes up maybe twice a year." "Six weeks ago. Small transfer, routed through a nested company so it wouldn't show on a normal audit. My guy only caught it because he was already tracing the account for something else." She hesitated, and Priya didn't usually hesitate. "That's the new

Lysander's POVThe records came on a Thursday. Two days, exactly like Whitfield promised.A courier dropped the envelope at the front desk and left. I carried it up to the study and set it on the desk without opening it, just looking at the seal for a minute, like it might tell me something before I broke it.It didn't. Nothing ever does until you make yourself look.I slit it open and spread the pages across the desk.Ultrasound images, dated and initialed. Hormone panels with numbers next to reference ranges, everything sitting comfortably inside the lines. A signed intake form from five years ago. A referral note. Visit logs going back to the very first appointment, each one filled out in the same careful hand.I read through it twice, waiting for the gap. The missing signature, the smudged date, the number that didn't line up with the one before it. Something Anh could point to and say, there, that's wrong.There wasn't one.Every question I'd been carrying around for two days had

Nerissa's POV"Mom, is Friday a party or a work thing?" Nicole asked around a mouthful of toast."Work thing," I said. "Very boring. Very important.""Can important things be boring?""Most of them are."She considered that with the seriousness she gave everything, then went back to her toast, satisfied. Nicholas was under the table hunting for a dropped fork, which he'd apparently decided was faster than asking for a new one."Found it," he announced, popping back up, fork held aloft like a trophy."Wash it first.""It's fine.""Nicholas."He sighed the sigh of a five-year-old wronged by hygiene standards and slid off his chair to find the sink.Some mornings I let myself sit in this exact kind of chaos a beat longer than I needed to, because by nine o'clock I'd be a different person entirely, and I liked knowing this version still existed underneath the other one.Priya was waiting by the car with two folders and the particular brisk energy she wore on days she'd already answered fo