The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 391

Chapter 191-2

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The tears in her eyes. Her accepting my invitation back to our home. Her cheerful wave as she walked out the door into the crisp winter air.

It was all a lie?

Willow is on Knox’s side?

A sickening wave of nausea surges up my throat, far worse than the lingering taste of the chloroform. The room tilts on its axis as my brain violently struggles to process the betrayal.

Willow – the woman who does yoga retreats for women seeking answers, the woman who shared a victory with me just hours ago – handed my deepest secrets straight to the man who abused me. She handed me straight to him. She set the trap and watched me walk into it.

“No,” I breathe out, my voice trembling as my mind revolts against the horrifying reality. “No…. Willow wouldn’t…”

“Willow is on my side, darling,” Knox says simply, his grin wide and terrifying. “She has been for a while.”

He doesn’t expand. He doesn’t explain how or why Willow is tied to him, or what leverage he holds over her, if any. He just leaves the bomb sitting right there in the middle of the cold floor, letting it explode, letting the shrapnel tear through my soul.

Does he know about the baby?

The thought hits my brain like a cold shot of adrenaline, sending my heart rate spiking against my ribs. Today, Willow guessed the secret I’d been keeping so fiercely protected at

eleven weeks.

If she handed over my medical history, if she laid out my cancer to Knox on a silver platter… did she tell him about the child growing inside me, too?

I scan Knox’s face, searching every micro–expression with hyper–analytical precision. His eyes are gleaming with cruel triumph, but it’s targeted, focused entirely on the cancer, on my past, on making me feel weak and damaged.

There’s no taunt about a child. No malicious threat directed at my stomach. Knox is an arrogant, blustery loudmouth… if he knew I was carrying Locke’s baby, he wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut.

He would be using it as his ultimate leverage, rubbing it in my face, gloating about holding

Chapter 191 2

both of our lives in his hands.

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He doesn’t know. Willow didn’t tell him, or maybe she didn’t get the chance before his men grabbed me. Either way, Knox is still completely in the dark.

“She gave me everything I needed,” Knox continues gleefully, rising from his chair and tossing it aside with a loud metallic crash. “She set you up like a sheep walking straight into a slaughterhouse.”

I sit frozen in the folding chair, my back rigid, my breathing shallow and ragged.

The physical pain of my bruised face and my bleeding wrists vanishes completely, replaced by a deep, agonizing void in my chest.

If Willow is compromised, then the café was a trap. The entire relationship is a trap. Everything I thought was solid has crumbled into ash beneath my feet.

“You’re not so smart now, are you, Zara?” Knox says. “You thought you had everything figured out. You thought you were safe behind your father’s walls, in Locke’s fancy fucking penthouse. But you don’t know shit.”

I pull in a slow, ragged breath, forcing the cold air deep into my chest. My heart is slamming violently against my ribs, but I refuse to let the panic spiral pull me under. I cannot lose

Focus, Zara. Think.

My analytical mind, usually so sharp and calculated, desperately tries to untangle the web Knox just spun. Why Willow? Every detail of our conversation at the café rewinds in my head with terrifying clarity.

Two guards. Both armed, judging by the heavy bulge beneath their jackets. Uncomfortable, jumpy, constantly checking the shadows and the roof line.

They aren’t hardened soldiers; they’re low–level muscle hired by a desperate man whose empire is crumbling.

That makes them unpredictable, but it also makes them prone to panic if pressed.

Deep beneath the layers of my coat, I press my back firmly against the spine of the chair. Eleven weeks. The secret is still mine. Knox doesn’t know about the baby, and as long as Knox remains blind to it, I hold the ultimate advantage.

He thinks he’s reduced me to a helpless ghost from his past, a fragile cancer victim he can parade in front of a camera.

He doesn’t realize he’s actually holding a mother with everything to fight for.

I lift my head slowly, staring into the dark expanse of the warehouse. The sharp pain in my face burns, but my mind is crystal clear, my pulse steadying into a cold, rhythmic beat.

Let him play his games. Let him think he’s won.

Locke is coming. Dad and Mayhem are coming. The Grinning Skulls are coming.

And when they tear through those doors, Knox will realize too late that the woman he tried to shatter never belonged to him.

Not at all.

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