The Lies Behind Her Marriage novel Chapter 205

Benson.

Silas frowned. He turned to Serena and said, “Really? We were classmates?”

He considered it for a moment before adding, “Then they must have done an excellent job staying out of my way. I don’t particularly remember them.”

“I don’t believe you for one second. What happened to—” Serena made air quotes, passionately mimicking her brother, “Noelle is known for making bad decisions in her life. She made her bed. Let her lie in it.”

“You know, Silas, I did wonder why, of all the AI service providers who were trying to partner with us, you chose HelixPoint. They aren’t a big company,” Serena probed. “Although in the end, I thought it was a good choice because Noelle was really good at her work.”

“Mmmm,” Silas reacted, but said no more. He stared out the window, avoiding eye contact.

“Fine,” Serena muttered. “You won’t say anything. I’ll dig up information on my own.”

True to his stubborn nature, Silas did not tell Serena anything about Noelle. She had to ask Milo to dig deeper into her, but even before more information landed on her lap, Serena stumbled into the truth—well, part of it.

On a Friday afternoon, Serena went to a famous antique shop in town. She wanted to buy a gift for Norman Collins. The renaming ceremony was happening the next day, and it would be the next time Serena would meet the former general after her kidnapping.

Serena wanted to thank him for all his help. If it were not for the soldiers who aided in her retrieval, it might have taken longer for Nathaniel to get her to safety that unfortunate day.

The antique shop felt more like a gallery than a store, with polished wood cabinets and velvet-lined displays glowing beneath warm lights. Every artifact inside looked rare, valuable, and carefully preserved.

“I think this would be a great gift for the general, Miss,” Lincoln suggested. He and Milo were escorting her that day.

Serena was certain there were a few more hiding in the shadows.

That had been their arrangement since her kidnapping—two or three visible bodyguards, and a group of others pretending to be bystanders and passersby.

Lincoln was pointing to a blade of some sort.

It was resting inside a velvet-lined glass case behind the counter. The curved blade gleamed under the soft lighting, its polished surface reflecting a quiet brilliance that immediately drew their attention.

“Excuse me,” Serena called to an older gentleman by the counter. “What kind of sword is that? And how much for it?”

“Ah, excellent choice, Miss,” he said with a proud smile. “This is a ceremonial officer’s saber. Blades like this have been symbols of military command for centuries.”

“In the old days, officers carried sabers into battle as a mark of rank. They were more than weapons—they represented authority. A commander would lead his men with one of these at his side. Even after firearms made swords obsolete on the battlefield, the tradition remained.”

“This particular piece is two thousand four hundred dollars, Miss,” the man said politely.

“Great, we will take it,” Serena said.

They left the shop after wrapping up the special blade.

Serena saw an interesting-looking café across the street, and she decided to drop by and maybe buy some treats for the kids. However, just as she was about to enter the door, a young boy stormed out of the café in rage.

“I don’t want to come with you! I don’t like you anymore!”

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