The Officer's Runaway Wife & Secret Son novel Chapter 272

Rhys's hand on the windowsill tightened, though his posture remained unchanged.

Mia knew Clara was back, so she wasn't surprised.

"So what if you bumped into her?"

"Nothing much, just that she had a child with her." Margot gestured with her fingers. "About this tall. Maybe three or four years old? Smart-looking kid, really adorable."

She paused slightly, staring at Rhys's back. "It’s just odd… didn’t she miscarry? So where did this boy come from?"

Mia grew impatient. “Clara moved on. She remarried. What’s so strange about her having a child? Or do you just hate seeing other people happy?”

"Remarried?" Margot smiled. "Aunt Mia, you didn't see him. Can a child with another man look exactly like Rhys?"

She had thought about it all night after returning.

Clara wasn't wearing a wedding ring. Although the child was being held by a "father," the boy's brow, eyes, and that cold, aloof expression didn't match the gentle man holding him at all.

Instead, he was a carbon copy of the man standing in front of her.

She had grown up with Rhys; she was certain.

If Clara had simply given up on a relationship, why did she leave so decisively, the whole family fleeing Brighton City as if escaping a disaster?

Unless she was hiding something.

Mia was stunned and instinctively looked at Rhys.

Rhys lowered his brow, remaining silent for a few seconds.

Just hours ago, that child had been waving goodbye to him. But precisely because it was his child, the boy couldn't be dragged into this now, and certainly not targeted by someone like Margot.

"There are plenty of people in the world who look alike." He turned around, looking at Margot without flinching. "Why did you run to Clara and lie about us getting married?"

Margot hadn't expected such a flat reaction.

"How do you know? You met them?"

"Does it matter if I met them?" Rhys didn't answer directly. He stepped closer, his shadow falling over her. "That is someone else's life. Do you think everyone lives in the past like you do?"

"Margot, I thought that over these four years, you would have at least learned when to stop."

She countered, "Why should I stop? You're playing the saint here while she's living with another man and a child. Don't you hate it? Don't you want to snatch the child back?"

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