Dark Revenge Of An Unwanted Wife The Twins Are Not Yours novel Chapter 474

Chapter 474: Time To Think

"Okay, you two should go ahead and prepare for school..." Athena said, breaking the smooth conversation going on between Spider and her children. Just like everyone else in the room, she had difficulty—though less than most—understanding what codes they were talking about.

The children hesitated, exchanging looks that clearly said do we have to?

Athena sighed wearily. They had found another "uncle" to bond with. She wasn’t exactly complaining though—it could be worse.

"Listen to your mother. Go upstairs," Ewan added, his tone firm but gentle.

Immediately, they obeyed, heading out with Chelsea and Gianna, who had read the room and knew the remaining group wanted to talk business with Spider.

Not that they weren’t allowed to stay—they just didn’t want to be involved more than necessary. They trusted Athena to do what was right, and Athena preferred them to be as ignorant of the matter as possible, especially in case of a future kidnapping situation.

"We don’t hope for that though," Gianna muttered quickly when Kathleen questioned her as they entered the hallway.

Meanwhile, back in the living room, Athena was updating Spider and the others about Aiden’s report—about Fiona, their possible locations, and the decision she had made with Aiden concerning moving in.

"That’s good," Spider said, reclining in his seat, fingers twitching with restrained energy. "I’ll see if I can hasten the process. Maybe locate Fiona, send her a coded message. Hopefully, she won’t be too dumb not to understand it." His tone was half-playful, half-serious.

Athena watched the light in his eyes—the excitement of returning to his "home," his system. He was in his element already.

To Ewan, he said, "Did you bring my laptop along?"

Ewan nodded. "I figured that’s what you’d want, seeing as it was close by."

Spider nodded approvingly. He had been right to trust Ewan’s instincts.

"So, by your calculations, when do we move in?" Old Mr. Thorne asked, his wrinkled hand resting over his wife’s. The two had been practically inseparable since her encounter with the grey variant.

"We can start laying in clues today," Spider replied. "I’ll get to work immediately. I’ll need a space..."

"That is already settled," Mr. Thorne said kindly. "You can pick one of the cottages in the estate, or you can stay here in the mansion. There are rooms..."

"I’ll prefer the cottage," Spider cut in politely. "Preferably somewhere quiet. I can handle my safety."

Old Mr. Thorne nodded approvingly. "Then you can take a stroll and choose one yourself. Since you’re aiming for quiet, you should pick one closest to the end of the estate."

Immediately, Athena’s eyes connected with Ewan’s. She bit her lip and looked away quickly, a faint heat rising in her cheeks.

Ewan cleared his throat, rising to his feet. "I’ll take you on the stroll now."

Athena wondered if he was volunteering just so Spider wouldn’t pick their point—the spot where she and Ewan had dinner nights ago.

Their point? Why would she even call it that? She shook her head faintly. Maybe she should get to work. She was spending far too much time thinking about unnecessary things.

She murmured her goodbyes and "have a nice day" to everyone, kissing her grandparents on their cheeks before strolling into the hallway. She could feel Ewan’s gaze trailing after her, heavy and unspoken. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

Just as she reached the stairs, her phone vibrated with a message from Aiden. Even without checking, she knew it was about what she had asked him to help with.

Hurrying to her room, she shut the door behind her and sat on the edge of the bed. But she hesitated to open the message. Her thumb hovered over the screen as she took in a deep breath.

Antonio.

It had never crossed her mind that he might hurt her—until yesterday, when he had grabbed her arm so forcefully that the pain still lingered, faint but real.

Athena shook her head sharply. No. She wouldn’t do this to herself—wouldn’t rationalize what had happened.

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