The Wife He Never Meant to Love (Lila and Damon) novel Chapter 138

Chapter 138

Chapter 138

“I’ll go.”

Damon’s voice was calm-too calm.

ร

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Mark looked up sharply from the monitor. “You’ll go?” he repeated, disbelief creeping into his tone. “What if this is a trap? What if they’re trying to lure you out?”

Damon stood still, hands tucked into his pockets, his posture relaxed-but his eyes told a different story.

Cold. Focused. Certain.

“Then it means we’re close,” Damon said flatly. “Close to whoever’s behind this.”

Mark stared at him, frustration boiling over. “Or close to getting yourself killed.”

Damon didn’t respond.

Didn’t argue.

And somehow, that made it worse.

Mark pushed his chair back abruptly, running a hand through his hair. “You know what? Just-end this,” he snapped. “I’m sick of this.”

The room seemed to hum with tension, the monitors flickering as if reacting to the shift.

Damon gave a small nod. “Okay.”

No fight.

No resistance.

Just acceptance.

And that unsettled Mark more than anything else.

Damon turned and walked toward the door, his footsteps quiet against the floor. Each step felt heavier than the last, though his expression never changed.

He reached the doorway.

Stopped.

For a brief moment, he didn’t move.

Then-

“Tell Lila…” Damon began, his voice softer now, almost lost in the low hum of electronics.

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Chapter 138

Mark didn’t respond, but he was listening.

“Tell her… and my son… that I love them. So much.”

The words lingered in the air.

Heavy.

Final.

And before Mark could react-

Damon stepped out.

Gone.

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For a second, Mark just stood there, frozen, staring at the empty doorway as if Damon might suddenly walk back in and take it all back.

But he didn’t.

Reality hit a moment later.

“Tell them yourself, bastard!” Mark shouted, his voice echoing through the room.

But the only answer was silence.

Out in the hallway, Damon paused.

Just for a second.

Mark’s voice had reached him.

And for the first time that night-

Damon smiled.

A faint one.

Because deep down, he knew the truth.

He didn’t know if he was coming back.

Not from this.

Not from whatever was waiting behind that invitation… behind that symbol… behind the growing chaos swallowing everything around him.

But if there was even the smallest chance—

To end it.

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To protect them.

It was enough.

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Damon straightened, the hesitation gone as quickly as it came. His expression hardened once more, every trace of softness buried beneath resolve.

Then he kept walking.

Straight into the unknown.

The office was too quiet.

Lila sat alone behind her desk, the faint glow of the city lights slipping through the glass walls. Papers lay untouched. Her laptop screen dimmed into sleep.

But her mind refused to rest.

Mark’s words echoed again.

Stay away from Eric.

And Damon…

The calls.

The messages.

Relentless.

Lila exhaled slowly, leaning back in her chair, her fingers brushing against her temple as if she could physically push the thoughts away.

“Is it really that hard for you to understand…” she murmured under her breath, her voice low, sharp with something deeper than irritation.

Her eyes darkened.

“…that I want you to come to me?”

A bitter pause.

“You filthy dog.”

The words were quiet-but not empty.

There was history in them. Emotion she refused to name.

Before she could second-guess herself, Lila grabbed her phone and dialed.

The line connected immediately.

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Chapter 138

“Where’s Damon?” she asked-no greeting, no hesitation.

On the other end, Mark straightened instinctively at her tone.

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“He’s in the south city,” Mark replied. “There was an invitation-addressed to his father. He went to check it

out.”

Lila’s fingers tightened around the phone.

“Is he alone?”

Mark shook his head, even though she couldn’t see him. “No. He brought someone with him. Backup.”

“How many?”

“I… don’t know,” Mark admitted. “He just left.”

Lila closed her eyes briefly, exhaling through her nose. The unease from earlier had now sharpened into something clearer.

Something dangerous.

“Tell me the exact address,” she said.

Her tone changed.

Not louder.

Not emotional.

Just… commanding.

Mark froze.

For a split second, it felt like he wasn’t talking to Lila anymore.

It felt like Damon.

The same weight.

The same authority.

“Uh… why?” Mark asked carefully, testing her.

Big mistake.

“I repeat,” Lila said, her voice dropping-colder now, sharper. “Give me the address.”

Mark’s throat went dry.

The room around him suddenly felt smaller, tighter, as if the air itself had shifted.

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Chapter 138

“Mark.”

She said his name softly this time.

But it hit harder than anything else.

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His heart started pounding-loud enough he was almost certain she could hear it through the phone.

There was no room for hesitation.

No room for lies.

Because somehow-

He believed she would know.

And worse-

He believed she wouldn’t forgive it.

Mark swallowed hard, his fingers hovering over the keyboard as he pulled up the location.

“South district… old industrial zone,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Warehouse sector. I’ll send you the exact pin.”

“Do it.”

No hesitation.

No thank you.

The line went dead.

Lila lowered the phone slowly, her reflection staring back at her from the darkened screen.

For a moment, she didn’t move.

Then-

Everything about her shifted.

The unease was gone.

Replaced by something colder.

Sharper.

Decisive.

She stood, grabbing her coat in one smooth motion.

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:

“An invitation…” she muttered. “A dead man’s name… and Damon walks straight into it.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

“Idiot.”

But there was no real anger in it.

Only urgency.

Only certainty.

Because if Damon was walking into a trap-

Then whoever set it…

Had just made a mistake.

Miles away, in the dim glow of his monitors, Mark stared at the empty call screen.

His pulse still hadn’t slowed.

“… That’s not good,” he muttered to himself.

Because now-

It wasn’t just Damon heading into danger.

Lila was going too.

And somehow-

That felt even worse.

Mark sank slowly into his chair, the glow of the monitors reflecting against his tired eyes.

For the first time that night-

Everything went quiet.

No typing.

No alerts.

Just thoughts.

And that was worse.

He leaned back, staring at the ceiling, letting the weight of everything settle in.

“What the hell am I doing…” he muttered.

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Chapter 138

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His gaze drifted toward one of the screens-still running surveillance feeds, still tracking movements, still chasing answers.

But none of it felt enough.

Not anymore.

Since Damon came back.

Since Damon dragged Lila-his sister-back into that world.

Mark clenched his jaw.

“Was I always this weak?” he asked himself under his breath.

Weak enough to stay behind.

Weak enough to watch instead of act.

Damon walked straight into chaos-

And Lila?

She followed him.

Like she always did.

Mark scoffed bitterly, shaking his head.

“Do you really love him that much?” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

Enough to risk your life?

Enough to walk back into a war where the enemy didn’t even have a face yet?

His fingers curled slightly against the armrest.

“Or did you forget?”

The memories came uninvited.

Lila crying.

Nights she thought no one could hear her.

Because Damon wasn’t there.

Because Damon was somewhere else-

With someone else.

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Mark’s expression hardened.

“And what about Maddy…” he added quietly.

The name lingered like something unfinished.

Damon’s first love.

The one who came before everything.

The one who never really disappeared.

Mark let out a sharp breath, frustration boiling over.

:

“Did you really forgive him that easily?” he muttered.

Or were you just pretending?

His eyes darkened.

“Lila… you really are a love-struck fool.”

The words slipped out like a curse.

But beneath them-

There was fear.

A sudden noise cut through the silence.

Mark’s head snapped toward one of the monitors.

Cindy.

She was at the door now-banging against it, her movements urgent, restless.

“Damon!” she called out. “Damon!”

Mark frowned, leaning forward.

Something about her didn’t sit right.

She wasn’t panicking.

Not really.

Her movements were too controlled.

Too deliberate.

“Damon!” she called again, louder this time. “I remember something!”

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Chapter 138

Mark’s eyes narrowed.

That got his attention.

He watched her closely, studying every movement, every expression.

Confusion crept in.

She didn’t look weak.

Didn’t look broken.

If anything-

She looked like someone waiting for the right moment.

“… What are you playing at?” Mark muttered.

He reached for his radio without taking his eyes off the screen.

“Go check on her,” he said firmly. “And listen carefully to whatever she says.”

A voice crackled back in acknowledgment.

Mark set the radio down slowly, his gaze still locked on Cindy.

His instincts were kicking in now.

Sharp.

Unforgiving.

Because in a night full of bad decisions-

This one felt different..

Across the monitors, Cindy stepped back from the door slightly, her breathing steadying.

Her eyes flickered-just for a second.

Not with fear.

But with something else.

Something calculated.

Mark didn’t move from his seat.

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His eyes stayed locked on the screen, unblinking, patient-like a hunter waiting for something to reveal itself.

Cindy stood by the door, her breathing steady now.

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Then-

Something shifted.

To Mark’s surprise, she adjusted her clothes.

Not frantically.

Not nervously.

Deliberately.

A small movement-but enough.

His eyes narrowed.

“…There you are,” he murmured.

The door unlocked with a soft click.

It opened.

Cindy’s face lit up-just for a split second.

Expectation.

Hope.

But the moment she saw who stepped inside-

It changed.

Darkened.

Disappointment flickered across her face so quickly it would’ve been easy to miss.

But Mark didn’t miss it.

Not even close.

And just as quickly as it appeared-

It vanished.

Replaced with something softer.

Something… practiced.

The man stepped in cautiously, scanning the room before approaching her.

They sat.

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Cindy started talking immediately.

Too quickly.

Too much.

Her voice carried through the audio feed-fragmented but clear enough.

“Where’s Damon?” she asked.

Again.

And again.

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Repeating it between sentences, weaving it into everything she said as if it mattered more than anything else.

Mark leaned back slightly, observing.

“She’s pushing,” he muttered.

Testing.

Probing.

The man tried to answer, but Cindy kept talking over him, her tone shifting-sometimes anxious, sometimes soft, sometimes almost pleading.

It was messy.

But intentional.

Minutes passed.

Then-

Cindy swayed.

Just slightly at first.

Her hand reached for the edge of the table.

“I… I don’t feel…” she murmured.

And then she collapsed forward.

Right into the man’s arms.

Mark didn’t react.

Didn’t even blink..

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Instead, he reached for his radio.

“Stay alert,” he said calmly. “And don’t let her walk out.”

A pause.

Then acknowledgment.

Mark set the radio down, his gaze never leaving the screen.

The man hesitated at first, clearly unsure what to do.

“Cindy?” he called, his voice uncertain.

She didn’t respond.

Her body went limp against him.

Too limp.

Mark tilted his head slightly.

“… Not bad,” he whispered.

Seconds passed.

Then-

Cindy moved.

Subtle.

Barely noticeable.

But enough.

Her hand shifted.

Her head lifted just slightly.

And the man-

He noticed.

Confusion turned into concern.

Concern into hesitation.

Hesitation into something else.

Mark exhaled slowly, shaking his head.

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“Don’t,” he muttered under his breath.

But it was already too late.

The man’s guard dropped.

Just enough.

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Cindy’s movements changed again-softer now, slower…. intentional in a completely different way.

The distance between them disappeared.

And then-

There was no distance left at all.

Mark leaned back fully this time, one hand covering his mouth as he let out a quiet, humorless laugh.

On the screen, the two bodies blurred into something tangled, something reckless, something entirely predictable.

“Unbelievable…”

He shook his head again, though there was no real surprise left in his expression.

Only confirmation.

“So you’re not innocent after all,” he whispered.

His eyes flickered with something sharper now-interest, maybe even respect.

“Well played.”

Because this wasn’t panic.

This wasn’t desperation.

This was control.

Carefully executed.

Deliberate.

And worst of all-

Effective.

Mark’s gaze darkened as he looked at the screen.

“And Damon…” he added quietly.

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