All Chapters of The Runaway Wife He Claimed: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

Amelia's POV The clinking of ceramic and silverware sounded unusually loud in the small dining room.I sat there with my fork clenched between my fingers, barely touching the food on my plate while Grey looked completely at home across from me. He calmly cut into his chicken, taking his time as if he hadn't spent the previous night standing in a dark alley with a gun in his hand."More potatoes, Grey?" Giselle asked, leaning across the table with a warm smile as she reached for the serving bowl."I'd love some, thank you, Giselle," he replied smoothly.His voice was polite and charming, the kind that made people lower their guard without even realizing it.I nearly choked on my water.More potatoes?Was Giselle auditioning him for adoption?I lowered my glass slowly, shooting Grey a look across the table, but he didn't even flinch. He simply thanked Giselle again when she spooned another serving onto his plate.Apparently, nothing about this situation was strange to him."Uncle Grey

Grey's POV I rested my head against the cold leather of the headrest, staring through the windshield at the empty road stretching ahead of me.The moon hung above the trees in a pale, sharp crescent, throwing just enough light onto the road to make the darkness around it feel even heavier.I closed my eyes, but that only made things worse. Amelia's face came rushing back to me, the look in her eyes so clear that it was almost like she was sitting right there in the passenger seat.It wasn't just anger.It was fear.Pure, unfiltered fear.She had looked at me as if the man she had laughed with only days ago had disappeared right in front of her, leaving behind someone she couldn't recognize. Someone dangerous. Someone she needed to get away from.My teeth clenched as I stared into the darkness.This was exactly what I'd known would happen if Amelia ever discovered who I really was.I lived in a world built on violence, secrets, and consequences that didn't leave room for mistakes. I'

Amelia's POV By the time I arrived at the office the next morning, Grey was already sitting at his desk.I walked into my office, doing everything I could to avoid looking through the transparent glass separating our rooms. I could feel his eyes on me anyway, as if they were following every step I took.So, he had decided to show his face today.How nice of him.But seeing him wasn't going to change anything. Especially not the fact that I needed him to approve my resignation letter. I had made up my mind, and no matter how much he wanted to fight me on it, I was leaving.I pulled out everything I needed from my handbag and got to work immediately, forcing myself to focus on the papers in front of me.Still, my hands weren't as steady as I wanted them to be.A part of me was waiting for him to call me into his office and tell me he had finally approved my resignation. I wanted that call so badly it was almost embarrassing. I didn't want another argument. I didn't want another excuse.

Amelia's POV “Is…is that not Dad?” she asked, her eyes fixed on the photograph.Oh God.She wasn't supposed to see it.When Dad disappeared, Giselle had been just a little kid. I was older, old enough to understand what was happening and old enough to carry some of the weight of it, even though it had nearly crushed me.But Giselle?She had spent years asking for him.She would sit by the window whenever she heard a car pull into the driveway, convinced that maybe this time, he would be the one stepping out. Even after everyone stopped talking about him, she still asked where he was, when he was coming back, whether he would remember her.I had always hated lying to her about it.Now she was staring at that photograph like it had opened a door neither of us was ready to walk through.I said nothing.“Amelia?”Her eyes finally lifted from the picture and settled on mine. She watched me so closely that I could almost feel her searching my face for an answer, as if one wrong twitch of m

Grey's POVSomething in my gut told me Amelia wouldn't show up to work the next day.And, just like I had expected, she didn't.I waited until midday, pretending I wasn't waiting at all. Every time the elevator doors opened, my eyes drifted toward them before I could stop myself. Every time footsteps passed my office, I looked up, half-expecting to see her walking toward her desk with that stubborn look on her face.But she never came.I told myself she had finally made up her mind about resigning, and that should have made things easier. Instead, it felt like someone had taken a piece of my routine and left an annoying fucking hole where it used to be.I tried like hell to concentrate on work, but my attention wouldn't stay where it belonged. I would type for five minutes, then glance toward her empty desk. I'd read the same paragraph twice and realize I hadn't absorbed a damn word.Her chair sat there, pushed neatly beneath the desk, as if she had only stepped away for a few minutes