Dark Revenge Of An Unwanted Wife: The Twins Are Not Yours!
Chapter 297: Friend?

Chapter 297: Friend?

"She’s better now. Awake even. Agents..." Athena stopped mid-sentence as Heronica suddenly waved her hand, seeking attention.

With her lips pressed into a tight line and her frown deepening, Athena chose to remain impassive to Heronica’s plight.

She had maintained her calm when panic had thrown Heronica to the ground, and remained indifferent while Cole had frantically shouted for help, desperately searching for anyone who might take pity on them. But no one had come to their aid.

Athena had only shown a sliver of compassion by providing a bottle of cold water, musing to herself that the black cells likely needed the duo alive for after all.

Fortunately for the black cells, Heronica was alive and breathing steadily.

Was she waving to say thanks? Well, she could express her gratitude from where she was.

The impatience coiled within Athena’s chest as she watched Cole assist Heronica to her feet.

"Thanks for your help, Doctor," Heronica said with a quivering voice.

Athena shrugged nonchalantly. "It’s just for the sake of the black cells. Is that all you wanted?"

The only reason she entertained this exchange was her need for information; perhaps Heronica knew more than she was willing to admit. Otherwise, Athena would have simply left. Her body still overflowed with disgust for people like Heronica and Cole, who showed a complete disregard for human life.

"I’m sorry,"

Ewan hissed from behind Athena, clearly frustrated with Heronica’s meek apology, which seemed more rooted in fear of consequences than genuine remorse.

"Don’t bother, Heronica. You’re going to spend time in the black cells. Nothing will change that," Athena replied sharply, noting the tears that filled Heronica’s eyes as she fell to her knees, pleading, ignoring Cole entirely.

"Please... I can’t spend time there... I’ve heard it’s the worst place on earth..."

"And don’t you think you deserve that, given the number of unnecessary deaths on your hands?" Athena fought to suppress the urge to lessen Heronica’s sentence, recalling the fact that the girl was just the same age as Susan—twenty-one, young, and careless.

Yet the latter needed to learn a lesson about consequences. So, Athena gestured to the agents to come and pick Heronica up.

"Athena, please..." Heronica’s voice broke through, but Athena remembered all too well when they had first captured her.

Heronica had vowed that the entire male population of the gang would sleep with her, while sinking iron nails into her thighs at that moment.

Athena shook her head. The fact that the lady was only twenty-one didn’t change her actions or the cruelty she’d displayed. She needed the black cells.

"You know what to do..." Athena commanded, turning away while shutting her heart against Heronica’s cries as she was led away from the passageway.

"You don’t have to feel bad, Athena. You did the right thing," Ewan said, trying to offer comfort.

"I know," Athena replied, appreciating his sentiment but unable to shake the nagging doubt. "It’s just that she’s young, and I can’t help but wonder what brought her to this life—abandonment? A dysfunctional family?"

Ewan placed gentle hands on Athena’s shoulders, his eyes softening as they met hers. "Maybe all of that. But she has to understand that her actions have consequences for the first time in her life. You can always help her later. But not anytime soon," He added the last sentence after a significant pause.

Athena nodded, looking up at him, searching his captivating eyes for understanding. "Yeah, not anytime soon. Thanks, Ewan."

Ewan smiled, nearly blinding Athena with the warmth of his expression as his hands fell from her shoulders. "You’re welcome, anytime, friend..."

Athena chuckled softly, tilting her head to the side. "Friend?"

Behind them, Aiden shook his head in amused exasperation and discreetly slipped away, not wanting to intrude on their conversation.

"You think we are friends?" Athena continued, her teasing tone laced with genuine curiosity, not entirely unaware of Aiden’s departure. She found it amusing, and Ewan’s smile indicated that he did, too, as he watched Aiden’s retreating figure.

"I think we should be friends. For the sake of the kids, at least. And for our work together. Don’t you think so?"

As her expression shifted to seriousness, she contemplated the reality of their situation.

Ewan had hurt her deeply; he had obliterated her trust and love for him six years ago. Though recent revelations painted him in a more favorable light and showed that he wasn’t wholly responsible for the past, it didn’t mean he was entirely innocent. Still, he was trying to change.

Athena recalled Florence’s advice about letting go and embracing forgiveness. So far, it has been working well. She hoped she wouldn’t regret it now.

Hence, she stretched out her hand, smiling brightly when Ewan met her gesture, his relief evident in his eyes.

"Yes, let’s be friends. Good friends."

It was a necessary step for the kids at least.

Ewan felt on top of the world, even though the last thing he wanted with Athena was merely friendship. But he could wait. He was a patient man.

Just then, a dull pain flared in his head, and he couldn’t shake the thought that this matter could have waited until he was home.

He sighed, staggering on his feet, his vision blurring, completely aware of Athena’s panicked touches on his skin.

"Ewan, are you okay?" kept echoing in his ears, before the world around him faded away, and he collapsed to the floor like a ragdoll.

"Aiden!" He heard her scream for Aiden as everything slipped into darkness.

Meanwhile, back in the city, Gianna was struggling with her car, frustration boiling within her as she hit the steering wheel when it refused to start.

"What’s this nonsense?" She muttered angrily, grabbing her phone to call Jake—but the call went straight to voicemail.

Exhaling heavily, she leaned against the seat, eyes closed. She needed to pick Chelsea up. And she couldn’t call a cab, not until Morgan was dealt with accordingly.

Running through her list of close friends, she realized they were all busy—she had been given permission by the boss, only because she was an outstanding jeweler.

Then Sandro and Zane crossed her mind.

She shook her head. Zane wouldn’t even pick up her calls, and Sandro was still at odds with Chelsea.

The memory of that volatile confrontation during the Thorne’s party replayed vividly in her mind.

What should she do? She steeled herself, preparing to make a choice.

She first dialed Zane’s number; surprisingly, he hadn’t blocked her number, though, predictably, he didn’t answer.

Then she called Sandro.