She Was Never Just the Wife novel Chapter 56

Chapter 56

Chapter 56

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Beckham had just placed his hand on the doorknob when the heavy, insistent knocking echoed through the apartment again. He flung the door open, his expression dark from a hangover headache and pent-up frustration, and growled, “Who is it? It’s too damn early-”

The words died in his throat.

Emily stood outside the door, immaculately dressed in an expensive Chanel suit. Unlike her usual smiling self, her eyes were icy as she fixed him with a sharp glare. She could barely hide her anger, mixed with disappointment and anxiety.

Brogan, the Lucero family’s longtime butler, stood behind her in a crisp dark suit, a brown paper envelope in hand. His expression was grave, his gaze respectfully lowered.

Beckham’s anger was instantly replaced by shock. He exclaimed, disbelief thick in his voice. “Mom? What are you doing here?”

He instinctively shifted to block the doorway, trying to keep them from seeing the mess scattered across the living room behind him.

Alarm bells went off in his head. ‘How did she know I was here? I barely ever use this place, and almost no one knows about it.’

Ignoring his question, Emily shoved past him roughly. He stumbled, still unsteady from a hangover. Her heels clicked sharply against the marble floor, the sound cold and crisp, as she marched straight into the living room.

She looked around. The apartment reeked faintly of booze and musk, the lingering traces of something unmistakably intimate. The curtains were drawn tight, the light dim. Laylah’s coat lay carelessly on the couch. Empty glasses and a toppled water bottle littered the coffee table.

Everything only further confirmed the suspicions she had already harbored.

“Mom, let me explain…” He hurried after her, reaching for her arm.

But she wrenched her arm free and spun around, her chest heaving with anger.

Taking in his haggard face and wrinkled shirt, she swept her gaze over the messy living room before finally settling on the closed master bedroom door, almost as though she could see right through it.

“Explain? What more is there to explain?” Her voice trembled with barely restrained rage, each word cold as ice. “Look at yourself. Look at this place. What would have happened if I’d arrived any later?”

She was practically shaking with fury. “Would you have thrown away the Lucero family’s reputation, along with everything your father and grandfather built, in this sleazy apartment, with that shameless woman?”

Pointing at the master bedroom, finger trembling, she continued, “I knew it. I knew she wouldn’t have given up that easily. She’s still pulling these dirty tricks, even after the divorce.”

She suddenly yelled at the bedroom door, “Drugging him? Crawling into his bed? You’re just like your mother,

19:36 Mon, May 11 d…

Chapter 56

Celia-willing to do anything, no matter how filthy, just to claw your way up! You’re despicable!”

47

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“Mom!” He felt like he’d been stabbed in the chest, listening to his mother cursing Celia so viciously.

A rush of outrage, disbelief, and a sharp, almost painful anger shot through him. “What are you even saying? Drugging me? And Celia? What does this have to do with her?”

He was utterly confused. ‘Does Mom seriously believe Celia’s the one in the bedroom? And what was that about drugging me? None of this makes any sense.

“Nothing to do with her?” She scoffed, her eyes sharp with disappointment and anger that he was still defending her. “Hand him the evidence, Brogan. Let him see for himself how his beloved ex-wife has been scheming against him behind his back!”

Brogan, who had been standing silently by the door, stepped forward at her command.

His gaze lingered on Beckham’s moody face for a moment before shifting to Emily’s furious expression. He pressed his lips together tightly, a complicated emotion briefly flickering across his eyes. But he said nothing and handed the envelope to Beckham.

Beckham frowned as he took the slightly heavy envelope. The cool feel of paper brushing against his fingers made his sense of dread grow stronger. ‘How did Mom know exactly where to find me? And what’s this about drugging me?’

Quickly unsealing the envelope, he pulled out a stack of photos. A single glance at the images was enough to rattle him, his pupils shrinking sharply.

The background of these photos was the second-floor hallway of Cloudscape, and the timestamp indicated they were taken last night.

In the photos, Celia stood sideways to the camera in a cream-colored dress. She was also leaning forward slightly, speaking quietly to a waiter holding a tray.

Though the angle was awkward, the image itself was exceptionally clear-her raised hand caught mid- motion, seemingly holding something small between her fingers, suspended over a glass of water on the tray.

The next photo showed the same waiter carrying the tray toward the Breeze Suite, and the one after that revealed his profile at the door, about to enter.

Beckham felt the blood rushing to his head with a roaring sound. There was a loud ringing in his ears, followed by an icy chill that sent shivers down his spine.

The timestamp, location, people, actions… These photos laid out a chillingly clear sequence. Everything-the strange, uncontrollable desire, the dizziness, the blurred memories from last night, even the lingering sensations in his body-suddenly clicked into place, matching the evidence before him with sickening precision.

‘Was it really Celia? Did she really drug me? But why?’ His thoughts raced. ‘Why did she sign the papers so decisively if she didn’t want the divorce? And even if she hated me, why resort to such tricks?’

Countless questions exploded in his chest, each accompanied by a stabbing pain. ‘Drugging me… That’s such a vile tactic. Would she really do something like that?”

19:36 Mon, May 11 d

Chapter 56

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He gripped the photos so tightly that his knuckles went white, his fingers trembling. He didn’t want to believe it, but the “evidence” was right there in front of him.

Had her silence and composure over the past three years all been an act? Had everything after the divorce, including her growing closeness with Elliott, been nothing but a performance?

His thoughts spiraled. Was she really trying to claw her way back through such dirty means, even going so far as to get herself pregnant?

The idea of a child made his heart tighten painfully.

But amid his chaotic thoughts, a strange mix of panic and something else flickered through him-a faint, shameful trace of hope, one he hated himself for feeling.

The sudden urge to stand before Celia and ask her, face-to-face, whether she still had feelings for him surged through him. If she did, he would forgive her in a heartbeat, even for drugging him. They could start over, maybe even remarry someday…

“Have you come to your senses now?” Emily’s icy voice snapped Beckham out of his spiraling thoughts.

She snapped, “Look at her, the wonderful wife you married, the fine daughter Mireya raised! She acts all pure and innocent, but deep down, she’s just like her mother, rotten to the core.”

Her finger nearly stabbed at Celia’s face in the photo. “Even now that you’re divorced, she’s still scheming and pulling these disgusting tricks. What is she planning? To worm her way back into the Lucero family with a pregnancy?”

She hissed, “Let me make this clear, Beckham: as long as I’m alive, she’ll never set foot in our house again!”

Brogan stood quietly to the side, watching the shifting expressions on Beckham’s face as he stared at the photos, and listening to Emily’s curses grow increasingly sharp and cutting. A deep frown settled between his brows.

After decades of working for the Lucero family, he had developed his own way of reading people. Celia had always struck him as calm and distant, with a clear and steady gaze. She was not the type capable of such malicious schemes.

And even if she truly intended to drug Beckham, why did she wait until after the divorce? Why choose such a busy restaurant, even leaving such obvious evidence?

The timing and angles of these photos were just too perfect-so much so that they felt suspicious.

But he was just the butler. With Emily in a rage and Beckham visibly shaken, he had no proof to give voice to his doubts. He could only lower his head, hiding the faint flicker of suspicion in his eyes.

“Enough, Mom!” Beckham suddenly raised his head, cutting off Emily’s escalating tirade. His voice was hoarse, strained with emotions he had been bitterly suppressing, his temples throbbing violently.

Emily’s venomous condemnation and insults directed at Celia and her mother felt like a thousand needles piercing his already troubled mind. They provoked a surge of revulsion in him, as well as a stronger, suffocating sense of powerlessness and pain.

19:36 Mon, May 11 d

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