Dark Revenge Of An Unwanted Wife The Twins Are Not Yours novel Chapter 443

Chapter 443: Waylaid II

The hum of the car’s engine was the only sound between them for a while, until Ewan finally broke it.

"What’s going on, Connor? What’s Kael up to?" He faced the fellow who had pretended earlier, to be under Kael’s instructions, mind wheels spinning.

If Connor wanted to betray him, there would have been a gun pointed to his head now. The wink too, back at the airport, had been... reassuring.

Meanwhile, Connor’s grip on the steering wheel was tight, knuckles pale against the dark leather. His jaw flexed, and when he spoke, his voice was steady, but it carried an undercurrent of urgency.

"Last night," He began, glancing quickly at Ewan before looking back to the road, "I overheard Kael on the phone. He wasn’t exactly careful. He was talking about Operation E... said to commence with it at the airport at first light. He didn’t mention names, but I’ve been with him long enough to know how to read between the lines. The way he spoke, the tone... it was you, Ewan. He has always wanted your hide."

Ewan turned away, his throat tightening. "Operation E..." The words tasted bitter. E for his name, most likely.

Connor nodded grimly. "I pieced it together from other things he’s said recently. He wanted them to wait at the airport, to ’clean up the mess before it got home.’ That mess was you... I wasn’t sure, but I decided to check."

A pause. "He never told me directly because..." He gave a short, humorless laugh. "...because he thinks we’ve been friends long before you joined the gang. Too bad he couldn’t keep his loud mouth shut... well, too good, or else you would have been fried..."

The admission sat between them like a stone dropped in still water, ripples spreading through the air.

"Connor..."

"You’ve been a good friend, Ewan." Connor cut in, his eyes briefly flicking toward Ewan, searching his face.

"You’ve saved my life more times than I can count. Hell, even at the cost of yours, you’ve put yourself in harm’s way. How could I stand by and let them kill you? That’s why I’m here. To warn you. To get you out. Of course, it means my cover with Kael is blown, but that’s fine. I’d rather lose my place with him than lose you. I know I’ll be safe with you, with Sandro, with Zane. That’s enough for me."

His words came quickly at first, like water bursting from a cracked dam. But as he noticed Ewan’s silence, the flow slowed.

Connor’s brows drew together, his mouth tightening. He stole another glance, this one longer, a hint of doubt flickering in his eyes.

"You don’t believe me?" he asked quietly, the edge of defensiveness creeping in.

Ewan had been staring at his hands, flexing them against his knees as though grounding himself. He finally exhaled, shaking his head slowly. "It’s not that I don’t believe you."

His voice was hoarse. He lifted his gaze to meet Connor’s, sincerity burning in his eyes. "I do. I believe every word. Thank you, Connor. Really. You saved my life back there. I don’t even want to think about what would’ve happened if you hadn’t shown up. I owe you."

Connor’s shoulders relaxed, though the worry in his eyes lingered.

Ewan leaned back, but his mind was a storm. Anger at Kael surged hot through his veins, tangled with a sharper, colder fear for his family. Was Susan really okay? Was Athena safe? His fingers twitched, itching to dial his phone again.

He cleared his throat. "Have you heard from Sandro or Zane?"

Connor’s head tilted, a quick shake. "No. Not since yesterday. That’s the other thing...." He trailed off, eyes narrowing as he glanced at the rearview mirror. His lips pressed into a thin line. "We’re being followed."

Ewan twisted in his seat. Sure enough, five cars trailed them, each keeping its distance but steady, like shadows stitched to their path. His pulse hammered.

Before he could curse, his phone buzzed. Relief surged when he saw the name. "Zane." He answered quickly.

"Hey, how are you?" His voice carried forced calm.

On the other end, Zane chuckled weakly. "Still alive, believe it or not. The bullet wounds don’t hurt as much today. I can breathe without feeling like a knife’s lodged in my ribs. So... better than yesterday, I’d say."

"Slow down," he wanted to shout, but he bit down on his tongue. This was who Connor was—reckless behind the wheel, just as he was ruthless in a fight. Frenzied, chaotic, but somehow always in control.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours. By the time Connor cut through an alley and burst onto a less crowded street, the pursuers had vanished into the maze of the city behind them.

Connor slowed, smirking with satisfaction. "Thirty minutes," he said casually, like it had been a simple errand.

Ewan unclenched his hand from the handle, flexing his sore fingers. "You’re insane."

Connor only grinned wider. "You love me for it."

They drove on in silence until the gates of the Thorne mansion came into view. But instead of the usual bustle—guards at posts, servants moving in and out—there was an unsettling stillness.

Ewan’s brows furrowed as he stepped out of the car with Connor. The air was too quiet.

Inside the mansion, the silence deepened. The echo of their footsteps across marble floors sounded too loud, almost disrespectful.

Finally, a servant appeared, arms full of cleaning equipment. She startled at the sight of them, bowing her head quickly.

"Where is everyone?" Ewan asked.

The servant shifted, her voice was barely above a whisper. "Madame Florence... she’s been hospitalized. Everyone went to be with her."

Ewan’s heart dropped. He closed his eyes briefly, cursing under his breath, remembering Athena’s text.