Dark Revenge Of An Unwanted Wife The Twins Are Not Yours novel Chapter 363

Chapter 363: Disrupted Dinner

Athena cussed the next second when Ewan’s image filtered into her mind then — uninvited, vivid, and warm. It was like she had summoned him by claiming he was bad.

She saw clearly: him pushing their little boy on a swing, their laughter tangled in the breeze and dwindling sunlight. It hit her like a blow, that moment suspended in time, the way his face had softened as he looked at Nathaniel, how he’d wiped the sweat off his brow with one hand while steadying the swing with the other. Her chest clenched.

And then another image — the flash of Ewan’s arms around her, saving her from the collapsing scaffolding days ago, his firm voice barking orders, his hand on her back. He had saved her life more than twice, Aiden too, and that included the mission.

He had been present. He had shown up when it mattered. How could she claim him worse? Should a man be judged by his past alone?

Now, seated across from Antonio, surrounded by candlelight and expensive wines, with the taste of saffron and lobster still lingering on her tongue, her heart tugged in two directions — hard.

She blinked at her plate. There was no need ruminating on this matter. She thought, wincing slightly. She shouldn’t be thinking of Ewan now, not while on a date with her partner.

Antonio is my choice. Antonio is my choice. She repeated the mantra over and over in her mind, each time a little more desperate, like she was trying to beat back the rush of memories that didn’t belong in this perfect evening. The words started as reassurance, but the more she said them, the more they began to feel forced, like a veil too thin to block out the truth.

She straightened a little, adjusting the napkin on her lap. She was still disoriented, still not entirely here. And that was wrong. She was supposed to be glowing, happy — this was what she wanted. Wasn’t it?

Athena bit down on her lower lip. How did she go from fawning over Antonio to feeling like this in a matter of minutes? What was wrong with her?

Meanwhile, Antonio’s eyes were trained on her, soft but intent. "Athena, what’s wrong?"

She looked up quickly, too quickly, her expression faltering into something between guilt and confusion. "I’m fine," she replied, with a faint, dismissive smile. "Just a little... tired."

Antonio didn’t believe her, not for a second. She wasn’t as composed as usual, wasn’t the Athena who arranged her expressions like polished stones.

No, as of three minutes ago, she was a little undone. There was a flicker of panic in her eyes. Her fingers played with the stem of her wineglass too often.

"Don’t lie to me," he said quietly, reaching for her hand. "If something’s wrong, tell me. I will solve it immediately."

Before she could muster a reply — or worse, a lie — her phone dinged, vibrating gently against the table. She snatched it up, grateful for the distraction.

"It’s Nathaniel," she said automatically, though she hadn’t checked. When she did glance at the screen, relief which flooded her shifted away a little.

It wasn’t her son that had just sent a text. It was Shawn.

The cells are secure. All culprits tucked away. No leaks. Rest easy.

A stage completed. Athena hadn’t realized how tightly her shoulders were drawn until she read the words. One part of the plan was now neatly boxed away. A quiet sigh escaped her lips, almost unconscious.

Antonio watched her with narrowed eyes. "Nathaniel sent you a report that has you sighing like that? Did something happen?"

She paused, caught. "He— It’s just something I asked about earlier. It’s fine."

He tilted his head, suspicion flashing, but he let it go. The night was too beautiful to mar with arguments. He glanced toward the dessert tray being wheeled in by a bowing waiter.

"Well," he said, clearing his throat. "If you’re not going to tell me what’s bothering you, at least let me tempt you with sugar. Dessert?"

She smiled faintly. "I could use some sweetness."

Minutes later, a delicate chocolate tart was placed before her, glossy with ganache and drizzled with raspberry coulis. Antonio’s plate held a lemon sorbet, dusted with mint and served in a crystal coupe.

The moment lightened — slightly. Conversation resumed, albeit in quieter tones. They spoke about the restaurant, the interior decor, the music — surface things, pleasant things.

Antonio stole a bite from her tart and she mock-scowled at him. "I thought you weren’t a dessert person."

"I’m not," he said, licking a smear of chocolate from his thumb. "But you are. And I like tasting your joy."

It made her heart soften, even as her mind screamed that something still felt off, something that made her nerves tingle with apprehension.

Then came the intrusion.

"Look who’s here," came a too-familiar voice, smooth and poisoned with charm. "The queen of the hour."

Athena turned in her seat, and there they were: Cedric and Victoria. So, that was the reason for her apprehensive nerves...

They had entered the tented VIP space without so much as an announcement — Cedric in a sharply tailored cream jacket, offset with a royal blue shirt that clung too tightly to his chest, like he was desperate to show he still belonged on magazine covers.

Victoria stood beside him, tall, stiff, and uncomfortable in a sequined champagne gown that caught every flicker of candlelight but did nothing to light her eyes.

"Cousin," Cedric greeted, offering a smile that never touched his eyes. "Congratulations again on being a Thorne. Quite the reintroduction to the world."

Athena didn’t flinch. She summoned the cold, calm businesswoman in her, placing a quiet smile on her lips. "Thank you, Cedric. And thank you for coming over to say Hi. I didn’t expect it."

"Neither did we," Victoria said, her voice flat. "We were dining in the east wing. Heard this was where the important people, who are in love, were."

The betrayal was subtle, but sharp.

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