The Wife He Never Meant to Love (Lila and Damon) novel Chapter 144

Chapter 144

Chapter 144

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Meanwhile, miles away, Damon sat inside his study room.

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The steady clicking of a keyboard filled the silence as Mark worked nonstop, tracing every possible lead across the web. Lines of data flickered across the screen-names, locations, dead ends.

Near the desk, the butler stood quietly, waiting.

“I want you to check on Jenny’s family,” Damon said without looking up. “If they receive any information from her… I want to know immediately.”

“Of course, Mr. Blackthorne,” the butler replied with a slight bow before leaving the room.

Silence returned-except for the relentless tapping of keys.

Damon’s gaze slowly shifted to Mark.

If Lila calls him… Mark will make sure I won’t know, Damon thought darkly. Of course. He still doesn’t like

He stared for so long that he didn’t notice Mark had stopped typing.

“Is there a problem?” Mark asked, turning to face him.

Damon blinked once. “No. Did you find Lila’s location?”

Mark leaned back slightly. “No. But the owner of the car… is Mike Foster.”

A pause.

Mark’s expression hardened. “Are we seriously going to chase a dead man?”

Damon gave a small nod, his eyes never leaving Mark.

Silence stretched between them.

“Anything else?” Damon asked after a moment.

Mark exhaled sharply, his patience finally snapping.

“Damon, I know you think I’m hiding something-that I know where she is,” he said, his voice tight with frustration. “But you’re wrong. I’m already losing my mind trying to track her, okay? She’s not answering my calls, my messages-nothing. I’ve even tried reaching her through other channels just to get something through!”

Damon said nothing. He had been watching Mark closely for days-every movement, every breath. Even when Mark stepped out, even when he locked himself in the bathroom-Damon made sure he was being watched.

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Chapter 144

And Mark was sick of it.

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“Because I know how much you hate me,” Damon finally said, his voice low but sharp. “You despise me. If you had the chance to hide my wife from me again… you wouldn’t even hesitate.”

Mark’s chair scraped loudly as he stood.

“You know what? You’re right!” Mark shot back, his voice rising. “If I knew she was safe and happy out there, I wouldn’t be here! I would’ve left already. I wouldn’t waste my time working with you-helping you hunt down the people who are trying to hurt my sister and my nephew!”

The tension in the room snapped.

Neither of them backed down.

Before it could escalate further, Simon stepped in, pressing his fingers against his temple before placing himself between them.

“Can you both just calm down?” he said, his voice firm but controlled.

For a moment, neither man spoke.

And then-something broke.

Damon stepped back, his anger collapsing into something far heavier.

“I don’t know what to do…” he muttered.

It was the first time his voice wavered.

“How can I calm down when my wife and son are out there?” he continued, his voice rough. “I don’t even know where they are. I don’t know if they’re safe… if they’re eating properly… if they have medicine when they get sick… if they have enough money to live comfortably…”

His words slowed, cracking under the weight of everything he had been holding in.

“I don’t know,” he repeated.

Damon sank back into his chair, his hands dragging over his face as exhaustion and anxiety finally caught up with him.

For the first time-

he didn’t look like a man in control.

He looked like a man who was losing everything.

Mark and Simon exchanged a brief glance. Mark slowly sank back into his chair, returning to his work with the same sharp focus as before.

Simon stepped out of the study, his footsteps quiet as he walked to the kitchen.

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Chapter 144

“Is the master okay?” the head maid asked, concern etched in her voice.

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“He hasn’t eaten properly… and he hasn’t slept either. We’re afraid something might happen to him,” she added softly.

Simon’s gaze softened. At least Damon’s staff cared about him. They still wished him well.

“He’ll be okay,” Simon said quietly.

“Can you do me a favor?” Simon asked, more to himself than anyone else, before he turned and returned to the study room.

He sat back at the table, opening the profiles of the organization that ran the underground auction, carefully reviewing the people involved and their connections.

A soft knock came at the door. A staff member slipped inside carrying a small tray-supplements and soap- which they placed on the table before quietly leaving.

Simon stood and called to Mark. “Take a break. Eat something.”

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He took a bowl of warm soup and carefully placed it on Damon’s table. “Eat… and take this supplement. It will help calm you,” Simon said softly before returning to his seat.

While eating, Simon spoke quietly. “Maddy has already talked. She was bought by Eric at the black market, but the rest… she doesn’t remember. I’ve already arranged a specialist for her.”

Mark’s tone remained flat. “Cindy refuses to talk.”

After finishing his meal, Simon silently observed Damon, making sure he had taken the supplement. When he did, Simon let out a soft exhale.

After a moment, Damon leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. His breathing began to slow, even out.

Simon looked at Mark and nodded. “Let him rest. The man’s already panicked enough.”

“You’ll understand this feeling after you’ve had a wife,” Simon added quietly as he draped a blanket over Damon, smoothing it across his shoulders and gazing at his tired face.

“Sleep for now,” Simon whispered softly. “You need to rest too. We’ll take care of the others.”

Damon, finally letting go, slipped into a deep, exhausted sleep, his chest rising and falling steadily under Simon’s watchful care.

For the first time in days, the room felt calm.

The quiet of the study room stretched deep into the night, broken only by the steady rise and fall of Damon’s breathing. His body, finally surrendering to exhaustion, drifted into sleep.

And with sleep came dreams-vivid, haunting, impossible to ignore.

He found himself standing on a shore he didn’t recognize, but somehow felt familiar. The sun was setting,

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Chapter 144

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painting the sky in shades of amber and rose. The wind carried a soft, salty tang, and the gentle lapping of waves echoed in his ears.

Then he saw them.

Lila. Her hair whipped lightly in the breeze, her eyes wide but calm. And in her arms… Damian, asleep, his small chest rising and falling peacefully.

“Lila…” Damon’s voice broke as he stepped forward, but the ground beneath him shifted with every step, pulling him back as if the sand itself refused him.

Lila turned, her gaze meeting his. “Damon,” she said softly, but there was no warmth-only a distance he couldn’t close. “You can’t come here. You can’t touch this peace.”

Damon’s chest tightened. “I’m here to protect you,” he whispered. “To keep you safe.”

“You can’t,” she replied. Her voice trembled, just slightly. “I don’t need you here. Not now. Not like this.”

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He reached toward her, his hand trembling, but before he could touch her, the world shifted again. The waves grew rough, battering the shore. Shadows flickered in the corners of his vision-faces he didn’t recognize, eyes filled with malice.

“Damon…” a small, muffled voice called. He looked down-Damian was crying now, small tears running down

his cheeks.

“No… no, stay here,” Damon said, panic rising in his chest. But every step forward felt heavier, like the air itself resisted him.

Lila’s hand lifted slightly, not to reach for him-but to steady Damian. “He’s safe, Damon. We’re safe,” she whispered. “You have to trust… you have to let go, even if it hurts.”

He shook his head, the world tilting around him. “I can’t! I can’t lose you!”

The wind roared, the waves swallowed the shore, and Damon’s voice was drowned out. He fell-facing the sky, the world breaking apart beneath him-and then everything went black.

When he awoke, it was with a start. His hands were clenched into fists, his chest heaving, and sweat slicked his skin. For a moment, the fear lingered-the helplessness of not being able to protect them.

Simon, sitting nearby, noticed the movement but said nothing. He simply adjusted the blanket over Damon’s shoulders.

Damon’s eyes, still wide with the echoes of the dream, focused on the distant ceiling. He whispered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else:

“I… I will find you. I don’t care what it takes. I will keep you safe… no matter what.”

Even in the half-light of early dawn, the resolve in his voice burned fierce and unyielding.

Morning light seeped through the heavy curtains of the study room, painting the walls in soft gold. Damon stirred slowly, his muscles stiff, but his eyes snapped open almost immediately, wide and alert. The remnants

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of the dream clung to him-the waves, Lila’s calm voice, Damian’s small cries.

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He sat up abruptly, hands gripping the edge of the table, his breathing shallow. Simon, ever observant, was already there, sitting quietly in the corner, watching. Mark, seated at his workstation, had paused mid-task, sensing the shift in the air.

“You awake?” Simon asked softly, his tone steady but cautious.

Damon didn’t answer at first. His gaze went distant, his mind still replaying the dream-the helplessness, the fear of losing them. Then his jaw tightened.

“I have to find her,” he muttered, almost to himself.

Simon leaned forward slightly. “Damon… you’ve just woken. You need to eat, take something to calm your nerves before you start planning. You were panicked last night-you need your strength.”

Damon shook his head. “No. I can’t sit here. I can’t wait. Lila… my son… I don’t know if they’re safe. I can’t just… wait.” His voice cracked, raw with urgency.

Mark exhaled slowly, rubbing his forehead. “Damon, we’re still tracking her. Every lead we have, every trace- none of it has gone cold. But you need a plan, not panic. If you rush now, you’ll only risk making mistakes. You know that.”

Damon’s eyes flashed, intense and unwavering. “I don’t care. I’ve already lost time. Every second counts. Someone could be… harming them… or worse.”

Simon rose from his chair, draping a hand over Damon’s shoulder. “I know how you feel. You can’t control everything. But you’re not alone. We’re already on it-tracking, watching, planning. You’ve got us, Damon. That’s what matters. Take this moment to gather yourself, or you’ll burn out before you even reach them.”

Damon clenched his fists, finally taking a slow, measured breath. He glanced at Mark, then at Simon, his expression still fierce but a fraction calmer.

“All right,” he said, voice low but firm. “Then let’s do this properly. Start from the top-who has access to her now? Any sightings? The people at the black market, the auction participants, anyone who might know her current whereabouts. I want every detail, every scrap of information. Nothing can slip through this time.”

Mark nodded, already typing furiously. “I’ll compile everything we have. We’ll cross-reference with every known associate and transaction linked to the auction.”

Simon gave a small, approving nod. “And I’ll coordinate our safe channels-people who can monitor her movement without alerting anyone. We’ll cover every angle.”

Damon leaned back slightly, still tense, but his eyes burned with determination. The dream had shaken him, but it had also ignited something fiercer-a relentless drive to find his family, to ensure they were truly safe.

The room hummed with focus. Keys clicked, screens flickered, and strategies were whispered between Simon and Mark. And in the center, Damon Blackthorne sat, poised and unrelenting, ready to track every lead until he found Lila and Damian… no matter the cost.

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