She Was Never Just the Wife novel Chapter 59

Chapter 59

Chapter 59

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At this moment, the B2 level of Aloft’s underground parking garage was empty and silent. It was an exclusive zone, with only a handful of cars and even fewer people.

The emptiness made the silence even more pronounced. Only the steady hum of the ventilation system could be heard, like the deep breathing of a slumbering beast.

A matte-black Aston Martin DBS Superleggera sat quietly in the reserved spot nearest to the elevator. Its sharp, aggressive lines stood in stark contrast to the more reserved cars nearby.

It looked less like a vehicle and more like a predator lurking in the shadows.

Beckham yanked open the driver’s door, dropped into the seat, and slammed it shut behind him.

The door closed with a heavy thud that echoed through the empty garage before being swallowed by the thick soundproofing. An almost unnatural silence settled inside the car.

He did not start the engine.

All the strength holding him together suddenly drained away, leaving him empty. He sank heavily into the plush carbon-fiber racing seat that seemed to wrap around him, holding him snugly in place.

After spending the entire morning with his nerves stretched tight, he finally allowed himself to relax in this small, enclosed space that belonged only to him.

He hadn’t felt this cornered, suffocating helplessness in a long time, not since he was forced to take over the heavy responsibilities of the Lucero Group from his father three years ago, not since he donned the composed and unassailable mask of the company’s CEO.

He had always handled the scheming and rivalries of the business world with calm ease, whether they came as direct attacks or hidden ambushes.

But what happened this morning… his mother’s forceful arrangements, Laylah’s silent accusation, and the media’s uncannily precise ambush… everything had tangled together into an invisible web, leaving him trapped in a mire-powerless and stifled, his frustrations simmering beneath the surface with nowhere to go.

This car had been a gift from his childhood friends, not long after his wedding to Celia. When they noticed how he had grown increasingly withdrawn after marriage, they pooled their money together to buy the car

for him.

Denzel had thrown his arm around his shoulders and tossed him the keys with a careless grin.

“Beckham, don’t lose yourself just because you’re married. This car is perfect for you. Take a drive, blow off some steam. Stop looking so miserable all the time.

“Anyone who didn’t know better would’ve thought that your married life is a living hell!” he teased.

At the time, Beckham had simply given a half-hearted smile and said nothing.

A living hell? Perhaps it really was. It was a marriage born from mutual benefit-one both sides fully

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Chapter 59

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understood, yet were forced to maintain behind a carefully constructed facade. How much warmth could such a marriage possibly hold?

The car was less a gift and more a gesture of sympathy and comfort from his friends. They had wanted to give him a private space where he could escape and catch his breath, even if only briefly.

He hadn’t driven the car much over the past three years. It mostly only happened when he was in an extremely foul mood or needed to handle certain private matters that he couldn’t let anyone else know about.

Now, sitting here surrounded by a familiar environment, his constantly overworked and overloaded brain finally had the chance to rest.

He sat there in silence for a few seconds, then reached out and popped open a hidden compartment under the dashboard. There was nothing inside but a solitary silver-gray metal cigarette case and a matching lighter.

He took out the case. The matte finish of the surface was cold and smooth beneath his fingers. The lid sprang open with a soft click, revealing a row of neatly arranged cigarettes, their filters white and pristine.

Pulling one out, he placed it between his lips. His movements were slightly clumsy. He hadn’t smoked in ages.

The last time he had smoked was likely on a sleepless night during a stalled cross-border merger negotiation, when the pressure had been at its peak.

The lighter sparked to life with a soft hiss, releasing a blue flame that suddenly brought light to the dim interior of the car. The dancing embers outlined the hard lines of his jaw and the deep exhaustion in his eyes.

He turned his head slightly, bringing the cigarette to the flame. The tobacco caught with a faint hiss, a dull red ember glowing at the tip before settling into a steady burn.

He set the lighter aside, tossing it onto the passenger seat. Then he took a long, deep drag.

The sharp, slightly bitter smoke rushed into his lungs, bringing with it a familiar, stinging sensation. It was quickly followed by a fleeting numbness that dulled his nerves.

Closing his eyes, he let the heat circulate through his chest for a moment before slowly exhaling a long stream

of smoke.

With the windows shut tight, the smoke had nowhere to escape. It pooled around him, transforming his chiseled features into a blurry outline.

He sat there in silence, cigarette between his fingers, watching the smoke rise and fade away. His gaze was hollow, fixed on the concrete pillars ahead, as though he were staring straight through them at something even more chaotic and absurd.

Seconds passed without movement. Only the glowing tip of his cigarette flickered with each breath, faint and pulsing, like a small, restless eye reflecting the turmoil within him.

The cigarette was halfway gone when the brief numbing effect of nicotine finally seemed to take the edge off his headache and ease the tightness in his chest.

As the smoke cut through the chaos swirling in his mind, the cold thread of logic and suspicion finally

19:36 Mon, May 11 ···

Chapter 59

surfaced.

Something wasn’t right. Everything about this reeked of careful planning.

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His strange, drunken state last night; the fragmented yet vivid flashes of memory; Laylah’s timely appearance to take care of him; his mother’s precise ambush this morning; the anonymous photos targeting Celia; and the reporters at the door…

Everything seemed to follow a script. The timing was so perfect it felt orchestrated.

The puzzle quickly fell into place, piece by piece, with seamless precision.

It wasn’t an accident or a coincidence. It was a setup directed at him, or maybe at someone else.

Extinguishing the cigarette, he pressed the butt into the car’s ashtray. Then, he reached under the passenger seat and pulled out a black, unmarked burner phone. He turned it on, and the screen lit up with a faint blue glow.

He quickly entered the password, his movements almost second nature to him. Scrolling through the list, he found the contact marked only as “Z,” and dialed the number.

The call was answered almost instantly.

“Mr. Lucero.” Chad’s voice came through the phone, sharp and steady as ever. But there was a faint, almost imperceptible edge. It was clear he already knew about what happened at Aloft. He had likely received an urgent report from the PR department.

“Chad.” Beckham’s voice had returned to its usual cold, authoritative tone-one that allowed no room for argument. “There are three things I want you to investigate immediately.”

“I’m listening.”

He rattled off the instructions. “First, investigate everything that happened at the Breeze Suite in Cloudscape last night. I want every detail, from the moment I entered to the moment I left. What I drank, what I ate, who handled everything, the surveillance footage-everything.

“Focus especially on that glass of water I had, and… whether Celia was at the restaurant. If she was, investigate what she did and who she interacted with.”

He paused for a fraction of a second when he mentioned Celia’s name, his hesitation almost imperceptible.

“Yes, sir.”

“Second, find out who leaked the information to the reporters this morning, who organized them, which media outlet arrived first, and who’s really behind everything,” he said coldly. “I want to know who’s pulling the strings behind this.”

“Understood. What’s the third thing?”

He didn’t answer immediately.

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Chapter 59

His eyes

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drifted to the cold, empty garage outside the window. His voice dropped lower. “Third, trace the origin of those anonymous photos sent to my mother. I want to know where they came from, the photographer who took them-every trace you can find.”

“Yes, Mr. Lucero,” Chad answered without hesitation, quickly jotting down the details. “I’ll mobilize every resource we’ve got and get back to you as soon as possible.”

Beckham grunted in reply. Just as he was about to hang up, an idea suddenly crossed his mind. “About Celia… Where is she staying now?”

There was a brief hesitation on the other end before Chad replied, “Based on the information we have, Ms. Ross has been staying with her best friend, Haley Dalton, since the divorce. The address is at Riverfront Court, on the east side of town.”

“Text me the address,” Beckham instructed grimly.

“Um… Are you heading there, Mr. Lucero?” Chad sounded a little uneasy. With the situation so tense right now, anything Beckham did could get blown way out of proportion.

“Don’t ask unnecessary questions,” Beckham reprimanded coldly. “Just do what I told you.”

“Yes, sir.”

Beckham hung up. Tossing the phone onto the passenger seat, he sank back into the chair.

He needed to meet Celia in person-to question her directly, to ask whether she had anything to do with this fiasco, and to hear the answer from her own lips. It couldn’t wait.

Rubbing his throbbing temples, he reached for the ignition.

Just then, a tapping sound broke the silence.

Someone knocked lightly on the passenger-side window from outside.

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