Dark Revenge Of An Unwanted Wife The Twins Are Not Yours novel Chapter 507

Chapter 507: Motives II

Athena sat cross-legged on the rug in the smaller living room, surrounded by her children and a colorful scatter of books, pencils, and open notebooks. The twins leaned toward her, their little brows furrowed as they worked through their homework.

Athena smiled faintly as she corrected one of the answers, her voice soft, patient, and low. The smell of crayons and warm air lingered in the cozy space, mingling with the faint notes of vanilla from the candle burning on the table.

Just as she was helping her son rework a math question, the doorbell rang. The clear chime echoed down the hallway, and her hand paused midair. She tilted her head slightly, waiting for the servants to answer.

Her brows drew together in faint curiosity. Who could it be this evening?

"Maybe Aiden?" she murmured under her breath. It had been a while since her old friend had come around, and the thought drew a soft smile to her face. He was usually too busy these days, but she missed his energy—the familiar ease of old conversations.

The sound of footsteps drew her attention. A servant appeared at the doorway and bowed lightly. "Madam, the master’s sister is here. She is not alone." he said politely.

Athena froze for a heartbeat, her fingers still resting on her daughter’s notebook. Then, slowly, she lifted her gaze, her lips curving into a calm, practiced smile.

"Oh," she said softly, her tone almost too mild. "Please make them comfortable in the sitting room. I’ll be there shortly."

The servant nodded and left, and Athena turned back to her children. She wouldn’t leave—not yet. Not until she was done with them.

"Alright," she said with a warm smile, brushing a strand of hair behind her daughter’s ear. "Finish up that last question for me, hmm?"

They nodded eagerly, focused again on their work. Athena guided them through the remaining problems, her tone gentle but distracted. Her mind was already turning, sharp and deliberate beneath her composed surface.

When they were done, she leaned down, kissed each of them on the forehead, and whispered, "Good job, my loves. Now, off to your rooms, okay?"

They smiled, gathered their books, and scampered off.

"Cairo," Athena called softly to the young girl standing near the door, "please follow them upstairs."

Cairo said nothing, but turned away, following the twins out.

Athena rose slowly, smoothing the front of her blouse and following them out to the hallway. She stood for a moment, watching until the children disappeared up the stairs, then exhaled quietly and turned toward the living room.

By the time she reached the spacious sitting room, her mask was firmly in place. The air inside was heavier than usual—too polite, too still.

She stepped in, her smile widening just a little, her chin lifting. "Good evening," she greeted, voice smooth, warm, almost friendly. "What a surprise."

Beatrice—her grandfather’s sister, her son Jonathan, and Jonathan’s wife sat rigidly on the couches, with carefully schooled expressions that almost hid their tension. Almost.

Athena’s eyes flicked over them one by one, reading everything—the tightness around the older woman’s mouth, Jonathan’s restless fingers, the way his wife’s gaze darted anywhere but her face.

Athena sank gracefully into one of the armchairs, crossing her legs with leisure. Her smile didn’t falter. "I hope you were made comfortable?"

They murmured something polite in response.

She nodded, satisfied, and leaned back against the cushions. Her thoughts hummed beneath the surface.

She had been waiting for them.

A week and a few days, to be precise.

Long enough for them to exhaust every ounce of influence, every favor, every contact they had to get their son out of the jailhouse. And still, nothing.

Now, here they were—out of options.

They were here to beg.

The thought warmed her. Not with joy, but with the cold, gratifying pulse of justice being served.

In her mind, she added silently, You already know that, don’t you? You know because you’ve been watching every move, waiting to see if they’d stop me.

They stood, exchanged reluctant goodbyes, and left, their politeness stretched thin. Athena watched them go, her eyes narrowing slightly as the door closed behind them.

The moment the house returned to silence, she exhaled, slow and deliberate. Then, with the faintest smirk playing on her lips, she turned back toward the staircase.

But then, another knock echoed through the house.

Athena frowned slightly, glancing at the door. Them again? she wondered, irritation flickering. Surely they hadn’t come back?

She walked to the door, smoothing her hair back. But when she opened it, all the air seemed to leave her lungs for a second.

Ewan stood there, tall and effortlessly composed, his tie loosened, a tired but charming smile tugging at his lips. "I see the second phase of your plan has been completed, my love..."

Her chest softened instantly. She gave a quick nod. "About time."

"That aside... You’re home early," she said, her tone light but her eyes glowing with quiet happiness.

"Early?" he chuckled, stepping inside. "It’s almost eight."

"I lost track of time," she murmured, her voice low, playful. "Long day."

He looked at her, gaze sliding slowly over her face, the corners of his lips twitching. "You look beautiful," he said simply, and the way he said it made her heart flutter like it always did.

She rolled her eyes faintly, fighting a blush, seeing and feeling the emotion dancing in his eyes. "Ewan, the servants—"

But he was already closing the distance, having pushed the door shut, one hand reaching up to tilt her chin, the other slipping around her waist.

"Let them see. I’ve missed you today..." he whispered, and before she could protest again, his lips were on hers, claiming her.