The Lies Behind Her Marriage novel Chapter 58

**Chapter 58: I Don’t Want Revenge**

**I Don’t Want Revenge.**

Fifteen years had passed since that fateful day.

“Sterling, listen,” Celine’s voice crackled through the phone, urgency lacing her words. “The local police in Norfield received a tip about a girl who looks just like Serena. I’m heading there with the driver right now.”

“No, Celine. Please, just wait for me,” Sterling replied, his tone firm yet filled with concern. “I’m in the middle of a business deal here in the capital, but I’ll join you. We need to go together.”

Celine’s heart raced, her thoughts a whirlwind of anxiety. “But what if it’s really her, Sterling?” she pleaded, her breath hitching. “I’ve heard the conditions in Norfield are alarming. There are thugs roaming the streets… drug dealers lurking in every corner. I can’t just sit here. I have to go! I’ll meet you in Norfield.”

“Celine, please,” Sterling insisted, his voice rising slightly in desperation. “At least ensure that the local police are escorting you.”

“Of course, Sterling. I wouldn’t dream of going without them,” Celine replied, her resolve hardening as she swiftly grabbed her bag, determination fueling her every move.

Norfield City had no airport, a fact that added to Celine’s frustration. They flew into Velmon City and then endured a grueling three-hour drive over bumpy roads that seemed to stretch on endlessly. By the time they finally reached Norfield, the sun had begun its descent, casting long shadows across the streets.

To her dismay, the officer responsible for missing persons had already clocked out for the day. Instead, a young, recently assigned officer, who appeared uncertain and inexperienced, was sent to accompany Celine and her driver.

As they navigated through a narrow neighborhood, Celine felt the weight of many eyes upon her. The locals watched curiously, their gazes lingering on the police car, on her designer clothes, and the way she carried herself with a mix of hope and trepidation. An elderly woman stepped forward, claiming she had seen a girl who bore a resemblance to Serena.

Celine’s heart quickened, each beat echoing in her ears as she followed the woman, hope igniting within her despite the years of heartache that had come before.

The girl they were shown had some similarities to Serena; her hair was akin to Serena’s, and her skin was just as fair. But as soon as Celine met the child’s eyes, a heavy wave of despair crashed over her. This girl was older. The spark in her gaze was entirely different. And those eyes—definitely not hazel.

Celine stood frozen, her heart sinking as the painful truth settled in.

This wasn’t Serena.

The old woman crossed her arms, a blunt expression on her face. “Well, information is information. The news said you’d still give a reward.”

The words felt like a slap across her face, stinging with the harshness of reality.

Celine fought to maintain her composure, yet her hands quivered with suppressed emotion. This was not a new experience; it had happened too many times over the years—false leads, exaggerated claims, and outright fabrications.

Some people were genuinely mistaken, but others were not.

They saw grieving wealthy parents.

They saw desperation.

They saw money.

And they exploited it.

As Celine and her escort turned to leave, the fragile hope she had clung to so tightly shattered once more, leaving her feeling utterly drained, the ache in her chest deeper than before.

Before they could reach the police car, a group of thugs began to trail behind them, their voices dripping with malice.

“Looks like a pretty rich lady,” one sneered.

“Her dress alone could buy a house,” another chimed in.

“Step away,” the police officer warned, his voice firm. Celine’s driver echoed the command, his eyes darting nervously.

“Hey, lady! Can you spare some cash?” one of the thugs called out, a predatory gleam in his eye.

Celine’s heart raced as she and her party quickened their pace, but the thugs only multiplied, their numbers swelling ominously. Suddenly, chaos erupted as another group of hooligans attacked the first, fists flying in a flurry of violence.

The police officer, momentarily distracted by the commotion, shouted, “Run, madame, run!”

Celine’s driver became ensnared in the fray, and panic surged through her as two men broke away, sprinting after her.

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