The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 141

Chapter 81-2

“College.”

“And before that?”

“I went to school,” he says simply. “Like everyone else.”

“Was it a private school?” I say, on a hunch.

“Boarding school. From the age of eleven onward.”

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I lift my head off his shoulder, staring at him in surprise. “Eleven? You were sent away at eleven years old?”

“My parents firmly believed that sending a child away from home developed independence and character.”

“And did it?”

“It taught me how to pack a suitcase in under three minutes.”

The statement is delivered with his characteristic half-teasing tone, but the underlying weight of it hits me hard. I imagine a young Locke navigating cold hallways alone, learning to lock his emotions away behind iron doors.

“Were your parents strict?” I ask softly.

“Extremely.”

“Were they cold to you?”

Locke pauses, his hand hovering over my back for a fraction of a second before continuing its slow rhythm. “They were efficient.”

“That wasn’t what I asked you.”

“No,” he acknowledges quietly. “It wasn’t.”

I don’t push immediately, allowing the silence to stretch between us while he processes the question. His attention shifts down to our joined hands, his fingers lightly tracing the lines of my palm.

“My family possesses substantial generational wealth,” he finally says. “Massive property portfolios, international investments, heavy manufacturing, and private equity firms.”

“And they expected you to run the empire?”

“They expected me to actively manage it,” he says. “My father wanted me working directly for the family firm. As the only son, he wanted me to eventually become him.”

“Do you still speak to him?”

“No.”

“What about your mother?”

Chapter 81-2.

“No.”

“Any siblings?”

“I have a younger sister” he says. “We exchange formal text messages on holidays and birthdays occasionally.”

The casual revelation that he has a sister strikes me as so profoundly normal and yet so utterly unexpected that I actually pause, staring at him. “You have a sister?”

“I do.”

“What’s her name?”

“Catherine.”

“Locke, you have never once mentioned her name to me.”

“You never specifically asked if I had siblings.”

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“That’s a completely terrible fucking defense and you know it.” I huff at him. “Are the two of you close at all?”

Locke’s eyes darken, his expression closing down by a visible fraction. “We were once. A long time ago.”

I feel the sudden shift in him instantly. It’s a physical drop in the temperature of the room, as if an invisible, heavy iron door behind his eyes has just swung shut. Every instinct I have tells me not to push him any further. After all, this conversation was meant to build bridges, not force open deeply buried wounds that he isn’t prepared to unpack.

But, as I look at him, I realize what he’s done. He’s willingly handed me information about his professional history, his elite boarding school, and his family’s vast wealth – all while expertly side-stepping around the core emotional trauma that actually costs him anything to speak aloud.

“You said you’re estranged from them,” I say softly.

“Yes.”

“Not just a bit tense or distant because of work or geography?”\

“No.”

“And legal teams are actively involved whenever they attempt to make contact with you?”

“It’s the only way we communicate.”

I study his handsome features in the dim light of the bedroom. He doesn’t turn away from my gaze, but the vulnerability he allowed a moment ago has been carefully closed.

“You gave me all the background facts,” I say, laying my hand against his cheek. “But you deliberately skipped over telling me what actually broke your family.”

Locke goes completely, utterly motionless beneath my touch. The steady, comforting hand that had been moving along my spine comes to a dead stop.

Chapter L-

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