The Wife He Never Meant to Love (Lila and Damon) novel Chapter 217

Chapter 217

Chapter 217

Mark sat calmly on the sofa.

One leg crossed over the other.

Phone in hand.

He wasn’t rushing.

Wasn’t tense.

He was watching.

Watching everything unfold through the security feeds, seeing Daven step inside his territory like a man

walking into a room he thought he owned.

A faint laugh slipped from Mark’s lips.

Then another.

“I can’t imagine working under an idiot like him,” he said, barely holding back amusement.

The man beside him-the one dressed convincingly in women’s attire-tilted his head slightly, watching Mark .with a mix of disbelief and quiet admiration.

This was the same man the organization feared.

The same one they avoided mentioning directly.

And yet-

here he was.

Laughing like a child watching his favorite show.

Completely unbothered.

As if war wasn’t about to begin just a few meters away.

The disguised man picked up a doughnut from the plate beside them.

“You need sugar,” he said casually.

Before Mark could respond, he leaned over and fed it to him.

Mark paused for a second-

then chewed.

“…Good,” he muttered, still watching the feed. “This might actually be entertaining.”

Down the hall, the butler guided Daven and his group into the living room.

The atmosphere shifted instantly.

This was it.

The core.

The center of everything.

And then-

they saw it.

The woman.

Seated beside Mark.

Feeding him a doughnut like nothing in the world mattered.

For a split second, even Daven’s expression shifted-surprise flickering beneath his arrogance.

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The butler, standing just behind them, discreetly pinched his own leg to keep from laughing.

Henry’s eyes narrowed immediately, scanning everything-then landing on Mark.

Not fear.

Not confusion.

Recognition.

And calculation.

Daven, meanwhile, stared at the “lady” with a faint, almost entertained smirk.

Interesting choice.

Dangerous man…

with strange tastes.

His assistant beside him glanced around cautiously, still reading the room for threats.

But Henry wasn’t looking at the environment anymore.

He was looking at Mark.

Because this wasn’t the man he expected.

This wasn’t tension.

This wasn’t preparation.

This-

was confidence.

Absolute.

Unshaken.

Like Daven wasn’t even the main character in the room.

Like the war outside had already been decided-

and no one else had been informed yet.

Mark finally lowered his phone slightly.

His eyes lifted.

And for the first time-

he looked directly at Daven.

A faint smile formed.

“…So you’re the distraction,” Mark said softly.

And the room-

shifted.

“Please-have a seat,” Mark said casually.

Daven didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward and took the right side of the couch, settling in like he owned the

space.

“Mark… it’s nice to finally meet you,” Daven said, a grin spreading across his face.

His gaze lingered on Mark-

then slowly shifted to the “lady” beside him,

Mark noticed.

“Daven,” he said lightly, “stop staring. She’s shy.”

Daven smirked.

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“Oh? So you’re into shy types?”

“Of course,” Mark replied without missing a beat, casually pulling the “lady” closer to his side. “There’s nothing sweeter than someone quiet.”

The “lady” remained still, playing the part perfectly.

Daven leaned back slightly, studying them both.

Then his expression sharpened.

“So,” Mark continued, his tone easy, almost bored, “what’s the purpose of this midnight visit?”

Daven’s grin returned.

“You already know why I’m here.”

Mark tilted his head slightly.

“Mm.” A pause. Then-“I refuse.”

Silence.

Heavy.

Immediate.

Daven froze, his eyes locking onto Mark.

“Mark,” he said slowly, “my battalion is right outside your house.”

Mark’s expression didn’t change.

“Oh?” he said, almost amused. “Is Mr. Daven threatening me?”

Daven leaned forward, voice dropping.

“Work for me,” he said. “And I’ll give you half of Foster Technology.”

A beat.

“Refuse me-”

His smile thinned.

“-and you won’t see the sunrise tomorrow.”

The room shifted.

One of Daven’s assistants reacted instantly, pulling out his gun and aiming it straight at Mark.

In the same breath-

the butler moved.

A gun appeared in his hand, steady, aimed directly at Dayen’s head.

At the same time, Henry turned-his weapon now pointed at the assistant who had drawn first.

The man’s confidence cracked, his eyes widening at how quickly the balance had shifted.

Mark-

laughed.

Soft at first.

Then louder.

Genuine.

Almost entertained.

Henry exhaled lightly, keeping his aim steady.

“Sorry, buddy,” he said without looking away from his target. “I’m a bit too young to die tonight.”

The room fell into a razor-thin silence.

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One wrong move-

and everything would end in blood.

But Mark?

He still looked relaxed.

Untouched.

Like this was all exactly how he wanted it to play out.

Mark’s laughter slowly faded.

He leaned back against the sofa, wiping the corner of his eyes as if he had just heard the best joke of the night.

“You really are entertaining, Daven,” he said, a faint grin still lingering.

The room remained frozen-guns raised, breaths controlled.

Mark glanced briefly at the weapons pointed around him, then back at Daven.

“You see,” he continued calmly, “this is what happens when you don’t use your brain… and surround yourself with people who do.”

His gaze flicked toward Henry for a split second.

“They understand something you don’t.”

A pause.

“That threatening me-inside my domain-does you no good.”

Silence pressed in.

Then Daven spoke again, his tone colder now.

“Henry,” he said without looking away from Mark, “do you really think he’ll take you in?”

Henry didn’t hesitate.

“No,” he answered plainly. “But the organization will.”

Mark smirked slightly at that-but said nothing.

Instead, he reached to the table beside him and picked up a brown envelope.

Casually-

he slid it across the table toward Daven.

“Anyway,” Mark said, almost lazily, “take a look.”

The envelope stopped just within Daven’s reach.

For a moment, he didn’t touch it.

Then-

slowly-

he picked it up.

Opened it.

Pulled out the documents.

The room was silent except for the faint sound of paper shifting as Daven flipped through each page.

Line by line.

Detail by detail.

His expression didn’t change at first.

But his eyes-

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Sharp.

Focused.

Then-

something else.

His heartbeat began to rise, each second heavier than the last as the meaning behind the documents settled

“… What is this?” he muttered under his breath.

The pages trembled slightly in his hand.

Because what he was reading-

didn’t just expose a secret.

It rewrote everything.

“Maddy…” he whispered, almost inaudible.

The realization hit-

slow.

Then all at once.

His grip tightened on the papers.

“No…”

The room seemed to close in around him.

Because if this was true-

if the records were real-

then the truth was far worse than betrayal.

Far worse than deception.

It was something buried.

Something twisted.

Something that should have never existed.

Daven lifted his head slowly, his eyes locking onto Mark-

no longer amused.

No longer confident.

“What kind of game are you playing?” he demanded.

Mark didn’t answer immediately.

He simply leaned back, watching him.

Calm.

Unbothered.

Like a man who had already placed the final piece on the board-

and was just waiting for the other player to realize

the game was over.