The Wife He Never Meant to Love (Lila and Damon) novel Chapter 152

15:25 Mon, May 4

Chapter 152

Chapter 152

“Sir… Damon visited Maddy.”

:

The informer’s voice came through the line-careful, measured.

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Across the room, Eric leaned back lazily, his expression unreadable. His wife straddled him, her movements slow and indulgent, but his attention had already shifted elsewhere.

A smirk tugged at his lips.

“Maddy…” he murmured. “Still useful, it seems.”

His fingers tapped idly against the armrest as he spoke again. “Make sure to drag her back.”

A pause.

“That is not possible, sir.”

Eric’s gaze sharpened slightly.

“Why?”

“The arrangements have already been made,” the informer replied. “Maddy will be transported to a secluded hospital-for mentally ill patients.”

For a brief second, Eric said nothing.

Then-

“What is this?” he said, a hint of amusement creeping into his tone. “Maddy lost her mind?”

“I have not seen the full medical report, sir,” the informer answered carefully.

Eric’s smirk deepened.

“Find it,” he said. “Send me the report immediately.”

“Yes, sir.”

The call ended.

Silence settled back into the room, thick and heavy.

Eric leaned his head back, eyes narrowing slightly as he processed the information. His hand moved absentmindedly, but his thoughts were far from the woman with him.

“So…” he muttered under his breath.

“Maddy still mattered, huh?”

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Chapter 152

A low chuckle escaped him.

Because if Damon had moved personally-

if he had gone out of his way to see her-

then Maddy wasn’t just a loose end.

She was a piece.

And Eric had always been very good at playing the board.

Now the only question was-

how to take that piece back… before it disappeared for good.

((

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Mark arrived at the town’s dock just as dawn began to break.

The sky was painted in soft hues of orange and gold, reflecting over the calm surface of the sea. Fishermen were already at work-some casting their nets into the water, others waiting patiently along the shore, their silhouettes steady against the rising light.

The town was waking up.

Quietly.

Mark stepped off the boat, his shoes meeting the worn wooden planks of the dock. Without lingering, he made his way forward, following a narrow pathway that led toward the heart of the town.

Most of the stalls were still closed, their shutters down, the streets not yet filled with the usual movement of the day.

It was peaceful.

Too peaceful.

Mark’s eyes moved carefully, taking in every detail as he walked.

Eventually, he stopped in front of a small hostel.

The place was simple but well-kept, its wooden structure blending naturally with the town’s laid-back charm. He stepped inside.

A gentle voice greeted him almost immediately.

“Welcome to the town.”

The owner, an older woman with kind eyes and a warm smile, stood behind the counter.

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Chapter 152

“Are you here for the festival?” she asked.

Mark returned a polite nod. “Yeah. I heard the festival here is very lively.”

“It is,” she said with a soft laugh. “You came at the right time.”

She handed him a key. “Breakfast will be served soon. Come down and join us.”

“Thank you,” Mark replied.

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He made his way upstairs, the wooden floor creaking softly beneath his steps. The room he rented was modest but clean-just enough for what he needed.

After a quick wash, he headed back down.

The scent of freshly cooked food filled the small dining area. A simple breakfast had been prepared, and Mark took a seat, eating quietly as the owner joined him nearby.

“Before, very few people visited this town,” she began, her tone conversational. “Most of the youngsters left for the city-some for work, others… for good.”

Mark nodded slightly, listening more than speaking.

“And now?” he asked.

She smiled faintly. “Now they come back. Even if just for a while.”

There was a pause before she looked at him again. “Where are you from?”

“Belair,” Mark answered.

“Oh, I see,” she said, as if that explained something.

“If you like pastries and good coffee,” she continued, brightening a little, “you should visit the coffee shop downtown. They serve very good coffee there-both tourists and locals love it.”

Mark didn’t react outwardly, but he listened closely.

“The owner is a very gentle lady,” she added warmly. “She moved here and built the coffee shop herself. Her brother designed the mugs… and the stained glass.”

Mark’s gaze lifted slightly.

“That’s why you’ll notice,” the owner went on, gesturing lightly, “many houses here have stained glass windows now. It became… a sort of signature for the town.”

Mark nodded, finishing his meal.

A coffee shop.

A gentle owner.

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15:25 Mon, May 4

Chapter 152

Then he looked away.

“Lila…” he thought, his expression tightening ever so slightly.

Are you here?

The question lingered in his mind, unanswered-but not without weight.

Because if she was-

then this quiet town… wasn’t as simple as it seemed.

Mark spent the morning walking through the town, his pace unhurried but his eyes sharp.

He wasn’t sightseeing.

He was searching.

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Every corner, every face, every small detail-he took them in quietly, piecing together fragments that might lead him somewhere… or to someone.

His steps eventually led him to the beach.

He paused at the shoreline, the waves rolling in steady rhythms, crashing gently against the sand before retreating again. The breeze carried the scent of salt and something softer-familiar in a way he couldn’t quite place.

For a moment, he simply stood there.

Watching.

Listening.

Then he turned.

Not far from the shore stood a small flower shop.

Mark’s gaze narrowed slightly.

The flowers displayed outside-fresh, carefully arranged-were unmistakable.

The same ones.

The same style he had seen back at the hostel.

He stepped closer, studying them. The balance of colors, the subtle layering-it wasn’t random. Whoever arranged these knew exactly what they were doing.

“This isn’t coincidence…” he murmured under his breath.

The shop, however, was closed for a break. The sign hung neatly on the door, swaying slightly with the

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Chapter 152

breeze. Through the glass, he could only make out blurred shapes-buckets, ribbons, worktables.

Nothing clear enough.

Nothing certain.

But next to it-

A café.

Mark glanced at the sign, then gave a faint nod to himself.

“This must be the coffee shop the owner mentioned.”

Without hesitation, he stepped inside.

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The warm scent of coffee wrapped around him instantly, rich and inviting. The space was lively-customers lined up at the counter, their voices blending with the soft hum of machines and clinking cups.

Behind the counter stood a young man, moving with practiced ease as he brewed coffee, his focus steady despite the crowd.

Beside him, a young girl stood close, watching intently-her eyes following every motion, every step.

Mark observed them quietly.

New employee, he thought.

He took his place at the end of the line, hands tucked casually into his pockets as he waited.

But his attention wasn’t on the menu.

It drifted.

To the walls.

To the details.

The lighting fixtures, the stained glass designs catching the daylight just right-it all carried a distinct touch. Intentional. Personal.

Familiar.

Mark’s gaze sharpened slightly as he took it all in.

Because this place-

it didn’t just feel like a coffee shop.

It felt like a signature.

15:25 Mon, May 4