The Officer's Runaway Wife & Secret Son novel Chapter 515

Rhys stopped breathing.

Clara pulled her gaze away from the screen and turned to him. "Played for a fool? By who?"

Owen's eyes drooped as he leaned his head back against the sofa. A spinning disco ball on the ceiling cast rhythmic rings of blue and purple light across his face.

"Clara, do you have any idea what actually happened to Margot at that bar back then?"

Clara feigned thought for a second before shaking her head. "No. What happened?"

Owen cocked his head, studying her for several long seconds.

"The best thing that ever happened to her, that's what."

The music blared on. Across the suite, Shawn and the others were still wrapped up in their dates, completely oblivious to the air freezing over in the corner.

"She got way too drunk that night and called Rhys to pick her up."

Owen shifted his gaze to Rhys, his eyes dripping with mockery. "But what happened? You didn't show. You were too busy playing house with your wife."

It matched the exact story Margot had tearfully recounted to Clara.

Clara kept her composure, letting him lead.

"And then?"

"And then—" Owen dragged the words out, savoring the moment. "Then, unfortunately for her, she bumped into me."

Clara's heart began hammering violently against her ribs.

She shot a glance at Rhys. Every instinct screamed that what was coming next was nothing like the version of events they had been told.

She felt a suffocating wave of dread on his behalf.

"What do you mean, she bumped into you?" It took everything Clara had to keep her voice steady.

Owen arched an eyebrow. "Exactly what you think it means."

His voice wasn't loud, his tone infuriatingly lazy. He blinked slowly. When he opened his eyes again, the colorful lights from the disco ball reflected in his dilated pupils.

"Rhys?" Shawn was stunned. He shoved his date aside and jogged over. "What's going on? Why are you blowing up out of nowhere—"

Owen tipped his head back, taking in Rhys's rare, unbridled fury, and laughed harder than ever.

"Wow, you really are just finding out, aren't you? Rhys, getting played by her for this long... you totally deserved it."

"You son of a bitch!" Rhys roared, his fist already cocked back.

He was ready to strike, but Clara leaped up and grabbed his arm. "Rhys, don't do it!"

Her own hands were completely ice-cold.

It all made sickening sense now. When Owen had mocked Rhys on the street for being "too sentimental," this was exactly what he meant.

Rhys had carried that soul-crushing guilt for years. He had truly believed that because he chose to be with Clara instead of picking Margot up, she was brutally assaulted by strangers.

He had carved that mistake into his very bones, believing he owed her his life. And because of that, Margot had successfully manipulated him, year after agonizing year.

"That's not even the best part," Owen declared, entirely lost in his own narrative. The drugs had pushed his desire to boast past the point of no return.