The Officer's Runaway Wife & Secret Son novel Chapter 532

Whether or not it grew into a towering tree didn't matter. What mattered was that he had planted it himself and watered it with his own hands.

"There's something else." Clara stepped half a pace out of his embrace, her expression turning serious. "With Felix transferring to a school in Brighton City, his registration and records will stay under my name. I don't plan on changing his last name to Huntington."

Logically, since they had remarried, changing the child's last name would be the expected next step.

The Huntington family had deep roots in Brighton City. In many circles, that last name was an all-access pass. For his future education, career, and networking, being a Huntington would open far more doors than just having her money.

But Clara didn't want that.

"I gave him the name Felix in Heron Bay. My only wish for him is a safe and peaceful life."

Clara looked straight into Rhys's eyes. "He is Felix. He always will be."

She thought Rhys might hesitate, at least a little.

But when he heard her out, there wasn't a single second of doubt.

"We won't change it. Felix is perfect. As long as he's happy and healthy, his last name doesn't matter."

Reading the sincerity in his expression, Clara picked her soup ladle back up. "Enough of that, then. Get ready to set the table, it's time for dinner. And don't forget to take your medication—pour out your pills and leave them on the table so you remember."

"Yes, ma'am, Mrs. Huntington."

-

Three days passed at a steady, unhurried pace.

During those three days, Rhys clocked in and out of work right on time. In the evenings, he came home to read with Felix, made sure Clara relaxed after dinner, and obediently took every last pill of his medication.

At past two in the morning, Clara and Felix were sound asleep.

Rhys stood alone on the balcony with his jacket draped over his shoulders, his phone pressed to his ear as he listened to his former rookie's report.

Same old place. He had taken a massive amount of pills.

It was a heavily restricted psychiatric drug—illegal possession of a dangerous quantity and blatant abuse. The local precinct and the narcotics unit had conducted a joint raid, and Owen was arrested.

"What's his condition?" Rhys asked. "Has he lost his mind completely?"

Although the medication was meant to treat severe insomnia, mixing it recklessly with alcohol the way Owen did would trigger severe, paradoxical reactions.

His former rookie scoffed. "Not exactly. Word is, he didn't even try to hide when they busted him. He was actually pretty calm."

When asked where the pills came from, he claimed he bought them in Duskendale and even offered the cops a hit.

He didn't even bother asking for the details.

The vice-captain lowered his gaze, keeping his mouth shut.

The more details you knew, the harder it was to wash your hands of a mess later. Eric had spent half his life navigating the treacherous waters of politics; his greatest talent was cutting his losses before the fire could reach him.

A few minutes later, the butler escorted Margot downstairs.

She stood at the bottom of the staircase, her eyes sweeping over the officers in the room before landing on Eric and Veronica, who remained glued to the sofa.

Veronica turned a page in her catalog, still refusing to look up.

She offered a cold, detached remark. "Tell them the truth when you get there. With your father's reputation on the line, don't make a fool of us in public."

Hearing that, Margot's lips curved into a dark smile. She willingly held out her wrists.

"Let's go."

The vice-captain frowned. He didn't put handcuffs on her—bringing her in for questioning hadn't escalated to that level yet.

Taking a steadying breath, he gestured toward the door. "Ms. Johnson, after you."