Dark Revenge Of An Unwanted Wife The Twins Are Not Yours novel Chapter 438

Chapter 438: Lucky

With the almost-not-there amenities this town—or was it village—boasted of, Ewan couldn’t believe that his predecessor had lived here for more than six years, since handing over the gang to him, needing to live a life void of bullets, drugs, and blood.

He wouldn’t have believed it, if not that he had been in charge of records too; the old man had refused his share of profits from the business, rather diverting it to philanthropy.

All because of a woman.

Well, didn’t he, himself, leave when he got married? Ewan questioned himself, narrowing his eyes as he looked around the town.

Wearing cream-colored shorts that stopped just above his knees, a white polo, and hiking shoes, with a beach hat resting on his back, strings tied loosely around his neck, he passed easily as a tourist. And there was the camera he wore too.

That explained why he had been accosted by the locals to take pictures of their crafts, even enticed to come look at what they considered a beach around these areas.

But Ewan had refused. He had a reason to be present in this little corner of the world.

Inhaling deeply, he took a turn from the center square—with roads leading in four directions—toward the path on his left, a bushy track that would take him to the place where his old boss lived with his young wife. A woman who had killed the latter’s taste for blood and violence. A missionary.

Ewan could scarcely believe the change that had happened in the life of the older man, even now. Shaking his head as memories of the couple’s love played in his mind—moments he had been a witness to, including their marriage—he couldn’t agree more that love did commit a multitude of changes in humanity.

Locals smiled at him as he passed, their faces open and warm. He greeted them in their language, the words rolling awkwardly but kindly from his tongue.

Some even paused to ask him where he came from, if he had seen their rivers, their structures, their crafts. And in response, he would say yes to some, and to the others, in the negative—whatever he felt like at the moment.

Fifteen minutes passed before he came to stand before the little house where the old boss lived. He hesitated to pass the little picket fence surrounding the house, which couldn’t be more than four rooms.

A bungalow painted yellow, with slabs of brownish red trimming the windows and doors. The roof was low, corrugated sheets shining dull under the sun. A tiny porch stretched out front, framed by two wooden pillars, with flowerpots lined on either side.

Remembering Athena’s text though, he pushed open the part of the fence meant for letting in and out people, and entered the house’s compound.

Looking around the small field before the porch, he could see toys scattered about—wooden horses, a small cart—clues that let him know Kael would have younger siblings.

Lucky man, he mused, lips quirking, referring to his old boss. He had children in his old age.

Before Ewan could get to the porch, the door to the sitting room burst open and two children ran out, their bare feet thumping against the wooden steps as they rushed toward the fence. They stopped short when they noticed him, their boisterous laughter fading quickly.

"Who are you?" one demanded.

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