All Chapters of The Wife He Thought Was Dead: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

"Lock down the entire floor and ensure no one is allowed near Julian’s room."Clarissa issued the command in a biting, icy tone as she stepped out of the hospital ward. Her footsteps struck hard against the marble floor, radiating a dangerous aura ready to strike. Her assistant hurried behind, phone pressed to an ear to execute every instruction instantly."Madam, Mr. Edward Vance has just arrived in the main lobby," the assistant whispered, face taut with tension. "He requests an urgent meeting at your office at Blackwood Capital."Clarissa paused briefly. A faint, deadly smile curved her lips. The snake that had hidden in the brush had finally bared its fangs."Prepare the vehicle," Clarissa replied calmly, brushing away the lingering shock in her heart. "It is time to welcome the true mastermind."Twenty minutes later, inside the grand office of Blackwood Capital.Edward Vance—a middle-aged man with silver hair, dressed in a masterfully tailored Italian suit—stood leisurely by the

"Push harder! Don’t let Edward’s car overtake us toward the hills!"Clarissa gripped the back of the front seat of her black sedan tightly as her driver pressed the gas pedal to its absolute limit. The vehicle tore wildly through a torrential storm on the slippery, winding mountain road. Flashes of lightning struck intermittently, cutting through the dark night and revealing the silhouettes of two black SUVs—Edward’s men—racing several hundred meters ahead of them.Clarissa’s heart pounded violently. At the hilltop stood Julian’s childhood home: an old wooden structure that had now become a hunting ground for survival. Julian, his mind clouded and his nerves severely damaged, was there without protection, while Edward’s hitmen moved fast to seize the fateful locket and end her nephew’s life."Madam, the two SUVs ahead are blocking the road!" her head guard shouted from the front passenger seat, cocking his weapon. "They know we’re following!""Crash through if you must!" Clarissa repl

"Gag the helicopter pilot and cut off all perimeter exits! Edward Vance does not leave this city tonight!"Clarissa’s voice sliced through the chaotic rain-slicked tarmac at the private airfield. Bathed in the blinding amber glow of floodlights, her silhouette against the pitch-black sky was absolute and unyielding. The storm raged, but her pulse was steady as a pendulum.Just two miles away at the central hospital, Julian was undergoing emergency thoracic surgery to extract a bullet from his lungs. Yet here at the airfield, the head of the serpent was attempting its final escape.At the edge of the helipad, Edward Vance ducked beneath the roaring rotor blades of a sleek Sikorsky S-76. His expensive Italian suit was soaked, his silver hair plastered across his forehead in frantic strands. The silver-headed cane was gone, replaced by a heavy leather briefcase stuffed with bearer bonds and off-shore credentials."Get this damn machine off the ground!" Edward screamed at the cockpit, sla

“Earn your redemption first, Tuan Vance.” Her words echoed in his mind, sharp yet gentle, cutting through the fog of exhaustion and pain that clung to him. “Then we’ll see if the future has a place for us.”He sank back against the pillows, his chest aching with every shallow breath. For so long, he had defined himself by power, by wealth, by the ironclad control he held over everything and everyone around him. Edward had systematically dismantled that control, poisoning his mind, twisting his memories, turning him into a weapon against the woman he loved more than life itself. And Julian had let it happen—his pride, his isolation, his desperate need to prove himself worthy of the Vance name had all been the cracks through which Edward had slipped. He had been a fool, a willing puppet dancing on strings he couldn’t even see. But now, the fog was gone. The neurotoxin had finally cleared from his system, leaving his mind sharp, clear, and painfully, devastatingly aware of every sin he h

The press conference room was packed shoulder to shoulder, a sea of flashing cameras and shouting reporters that would have once bowed their heads the moment Julian Vance walked through the door. Today, they were here to tear him apart.Julian stood at the podium, his hands resting flat against the cool wood, his heart beating steady and strong beneath the scar on his chest. He had refused the shield of a private room or a written statement read by lawyers. He had walked in alone—no entourage, no bodyguards, no expensive suit. Just a simple black jacket, his face pale but his spine straight as steel. Every eye in the room was fixed on him, waiting for the arrogant tyrant they all knew to emerge. Instead, they saw a man who looked like he hadn’t slept in years, who carried the weight of his own sins on his shoulders like a cloak he could no longer hide.“Good morning,” he began, his voice calm, carrying clearly through the sudden hush. “I am not here to defend myself. I am not here to