Unmatched Wife: Not His To Claim Anymore novel Chapter 74

Chapter 74

Chapter 74

BIANCA

Before I could ask more questions, another neighbor appeared–David Torres, a journalist in his thirties with the kind of curiosity that made him excellent at his job and occasionally exhausting in social situations.

“Dr. Morrison,” David said, shaking my hand firmly. “Congratulations on the exam. Margaret was just telling me about your specialization in curse–breaking. That’s rare expertise these days.”

“Thank you. And please, call me Bianca.”

“David.” He smiled, but his eyes held that sharp journalist’s focus. “I’m actually working on a story about the Council of Elders‘ historical handling of magic users. Particularly how they treated curse–breakers about fifteen years ago. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

My wine glass nearly slipped from my hand. “That’s… very specific research.”

“I like to dig into uncomfortable history,” David said. “Especially when that history involves systematic persecution that was conveniently buried. The Council’s purge of curse–breaking networks is one of those stories that got memory–holed, but the documents are still accessible if you know where to look.”

Margaret was watching this exchange with interest. “David’s been researching that story for two years. Very thorough. Very persistent.”

“And very blocked by official sources,” David added with frustration. “Every formal request gets stonewalled. But I’ve been building the case through independent documentation. Medical records, witness statements from survivors, evidence of orchestrated killings.”

My heart was pounding. “That sounds dangerous. If the people responsible are still in positions of power…”

“Oh, they are.” David’s expression went hard. “Thorne Lockwood, for instance. Former Council member, led the purge personally. Now he’s Chief of Staff here in BloodMoon City. Quite the career trajectory for someone with documented involvement in magical persecution.”

I felt Rivera’s presence before I saw him, his hand settling on my lower back in a gesture that had become familiar.

“David,” Rivera said, his voice pleasant but with an edge I’d learned to recognize as warning. “Harassing my guest with work talk?”

“Just making conversation,” David said easily. “Though if Dr. Morrison has any insight into curse–breaking history, I’d love to interview her sometime. Off the record, of course.”

“I’ll consider it,” I said carefully.

David handed me his business card. “Call me if you’re interested. I think you’d find my research… illuminating.”

He drifted away, and Margaret patted my arm. “Don’t mind David. He’s harmless, just passionate about exposing corruption. Which, between you and me, this city could use more of.”

She followed David toward the refreshments, leaving me alone with Rivera.

“You okay?” he asked quietly. “David can be a lot.”

“He’s investigating Thorne Lockwood,” I said, keeping my voice low. “The purge, the persecution of curse–breakers, everything.”

“I know.” Rivera’s expression was unreadable. “He’s been working on that story for years. Very thorough, very careful. Also very aware that publishing it could get him killed.”

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Chapter 74

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“You know him well?”

“We’ve had conversations.” Rivera’s hand moved in a gentle circle on my back. “But this is your party, not a conspiracy planning session. Come on, Dr. Kim wants to introduce you to someone from the research division.”

He guided me back into the party, and I let myself be absorbed by conversation and celebration, by the warmth of people who genuinely seemed happy for my success.

Dr. Sarah Kim was everything I’d hoped for in a colleague–brilliant, kind, and refreshingly blunt about the politics of hospital

medicine.

“The research division has been trying to recruit you since your exam results posted,” she told me over wine. “Apparently your score caught their attention. Something about your answers on rare curse treatment protocols being more comprehensive than their current specialist’s.”

“I had good teachers,” I said, thinking of my mother’s journals.

“Well, if you’re interested, Dr. Linda wants to talk to you about consulting. Part–time, flexible hours, good pay.” Sarah raised her glass. “Though personally, I hope you’ll stay in trauma. We need more people who can think on their feet.”

“Why not both?” suggested a new voice, and I turned to find a tall woman with silver–streaked hair and sharp eyes extending her hand. “Dr. Linda Wells. Head of the magical research division. I’ve been hoping to meet you.”

We shook hands, and Dr. Wells launched into an enthusiastic pitch about research opportunities, collaborative projects, the possibility of publishing papers on curse–breaking techniques.

It was overwhelming and exciting and exactly the kind of professional validation I’d been craving for years.

By the time Dr. Wells finished talking–having extracted a promise that I’d at least consider her consulting offer–my head was spinning with possibilities.

James appeared at my elbow with more wine. “You’re being courted by research,” he observed. “That’s how you know you’ve made it. Dr. Wells doesn’t waste time on mediocre talent.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready for research,” I admitted. “I’ve barely started working clinically again.”

“You’ve got time to decide. But Bianca?” James’s expression turned serious. “Don’t undersell yourself. You’re genuinely skilled at this work. Not just competent–actually talented. And BloodMoon General would be lucky to keep you in any capacity.”

The sincerity in his voice made my throat tight. “Thank you.”

“Now stop being emotional and come meet the transplant team. They’ve been asking about you all night.”

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