The Officer's Runaway Wife & Secret Son novel Chapter 215

Rhys had been working non-stop at the precinct for days.

He buried himself in endless case files and dispatch orders. The moment he stopped, the roar of the airplane engine he'd heard at the intersection that afternoon would echo in his ears.

The plane was long gone, and Clara was no longer in the city. Yet that persistent noise seemed to drill into his brain, crashing around and denying him any peace.

Eric Johnson had just called him.

The "Smart Traffic" initiative Brighton City was pushing had entered the planning phase, and Eric wanted his input.

Rhys thought for a long time before agreeing.

When he entered the Johnson estate, his mother, Veronica West, was holding a pearl necklace against her neck in front of a mirror.

Hearing him enter, she glanced at him through the reflection.

"You finally decided to show up?"

Veronica's tone was lukewarm as her gaze returned to her reflection. "It's getting cold out, and Margot's health is flagging. You're not answering your phone. Have you completely checked out of this family?"

"I said, if she's sick, go to the hospital," he replied coldly. "I can't cure her illness."

Veronica froze, then whirled around. "She's your sister! How did you get so heartless? Do you even have a heart?" Rhys looked at her, a bitter thought crossing his mind: "A heart? Was there ever such a thing in this family?"

He couldn't help but let out a short, dry laugh.

"Isn't this something I inherited from you?"

Veronica's expression darkened. "What did you say?"

Rhys looked up at her.

When he was thirteen, before his father, Logan Huntington, left the house, he had patted Rhys's head and kissed Veronica. Back then, Veronica was wearing a similar string of pearls.

Logan had said that when he returned from his mission, he would have a long leave. It would coincide with Veronica's birthday, and the three of them could go see the volcanoes—a trip their son had been talking about for ages.

Young Rhys had been so happy.

But the day after Logan left, Rhys caught a fever. The school couldn't reach his parents, so he went home early. Opening the door, no nanny came to greet him, which he found strange.

He went up to the second floor.

Veronica West was leaning into a stranger's embrace, her blouse partially unbuttoned. The man's hand was on her waist as they entangled themselves with each other, oblivious to the world.

Logan never came back from that mission.

Eric couldn't gauge his stance. Finally, he picked up his tea cup and dropped a casual remark: "Rhys, starting a family and a career is important, but don't let a woman tie you down."

It was a prod, and a warning.

Out of respect for the Huntington family name, Eric maintained a superficial politeness with Rhys regarding Clara. But throwing a tantrum was one thing; creating a rift with the family was biting the hand that fed him.

Rhys stood up, his face expressionless. "I've said this many times. The Johnsons and I have never been family."

Eric's eyes darkened briefly before returning to normal.

"Alright. I've spoken to your chief about this project. Put some effort into it."

Rhys didn't respond and walked out.

Just as he reached the stairs, he heard a soft voice from the third-floor landing.

"Rhys."

He didn't stop, striding toward the staircase.

"I called Clara."