While My Husband Cheated I Married His Powerful Brother novel Chapter 53

Chapter 53: Chapter 53 Inside the Thorne Armory

Dorian was still standing at the foot of the bed.

His gray eyes were fixed on her. His eyebrow was still raised. He was waiting for an answer.

Veyra’s face was on fire. She had been caught staring. Caught gawking like a teenager with a crush.

"I was just—" She scrambled to sit up. Her hands dropped to her sides. "I was stretching. Yes. Stretching. My arms were stiff. From the lake and yes, from the swimming too, don’t forget that."

Dorian said nothing.

"Pregnancy cramps," she added very quickly. "And it is veery common. The doctor mentioned it."

He still said nothing.

She grabbed the edge of the blanket. She pulled it over her head. She curled up underneath it like a child hiding from a monster.

"Goodnight," she said, her voice muffled by the fabric.

She heard him exhale. A soft sound which looks like almost a laugh.

Then his footsteps crossed the room. The door opened. The door closed.

He was gone.

The room was dark except for the sliver of light from the hallway.

Dorian’s footsteps had faded. The door had clicked shut. But Veyra was still frozen beneath the blanket, her face burning, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.

She had been caught.

She had been staring at him. At his bare chest. At the water droplets still clinging to his skin. At the way his bathrobe had hung open, revealing the hard chest lines of his body.

He must have seen. He must have known.

She pressed her hands against her cheeks. They were hot. So hot.

"Stretching," she whispered to herself. "I said I was stretching. Idiot ne."

She wanted to disappear. To sink into the mattress and never come out.

The blanket was still over her head. She pulled it tighter. She was still curling into a ball. She lay there in the darkness and tried to slow her breathing.

In. Out. In. Out.

And to be frank? It did not help.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him. The way the light had hit his chest. The way his jaw had tightened when he asked what she was doing. The way his voice had sounded—low and rough and warm.

She was in trouble.

She had promised herself she would not feel anything. This was a contract. A business arrangement. He was protecting the baby, not her.

But her heart did not seem to care about promises anymore.

She groaned into the pillow.

Dorian stood in the hallway, his hand still on the door handle.

He did not move. He stood there, listening to the muffled sounds from inside the room. The rustle of blankets. The soft groan.

She was embarrassed. He could tell.

He almost smiled.

He thought about her. About the woman hiding under the covers like a child. She was young. Younger than him. But she had done things that people twice her age could not do.

She had developed a world-class heart disease drug. In a cramped apartment. With no resources. No lab. No funding. Just her own intelligence and determination.

He thought about the serum. The way it had worked. The way Dr. Harrison had called it extraordinary.

Her talent was raw. Untrained. Unrefined.

But it was there. Beneath the surface. Waiting to be developed.

He wondered what she could become. With the right teachers. The right resources. The right support.

How high could she go?

He was very much looking forward to finding out.

He turned and walked down the hallway, his bare feet silent on the carpet.

Behind him, the door remained closed.

*

The sun was barely up when Veyra reached for her phone.

The screen glowed. 6:15 AM. She had barely slept. Her mind had been racing all night. Images of Dorian. Images of guns and finally images of Eleanor being dragged away.

She could not wait any longer.

She typed a message to Li Wei.

When do we start?

She expected to wait. To toss and turn for an hour before getting a response.

But the reply came almost immediately.

I’m already in the living room. I’ll take you to the armory. It’s in the cellar.

Veyra sat up so fast that she nearly fell off the bed.

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