Dark Revenge Of An Unwanted Wife The Twins Are Not Yours novel Chapter 486

Chapter 486: Unhappy

The door shut behind Sandro with a quiet click, but it might as well have been a thunderclap. The echo of it rang in Athena’s ears long after he was gone.

For a long, fragile moment, she didn’t move. Her fingers, still resting on the edge of the polished boardroom table, trembled ever so slightly. The air felt heavy—too heavy—pressing down on her until her chest tightened.

She swallowed hard. The silence in the boardroom was deafening. The faint hum of the city through the glass walls, the distant sound of traffic, the low whir of the air-conditioning—all of it merged into a single, droning note that filled the hollow space inside her.

She had won. That was what everyone would say. The board had voted in her favor. She had taken control of the empire Ewan had built with his blood and sweat. And yet, standing there, she felt no triumph. Only... emptiness.

Lonely.

Unsettled.

Unhappy.

The sadness came quietly, almost tenderly at first—then stronger, until it drowned out everything else. It was a kind of grief that sat heavy in her stomach, dull and suffocating.

She had fought for space, hadn’t she? For freedom from his shadow. From the people who doubted her. From pity. So why did it feel so unbearable now that everyone was gone?

Her throat ached. Her hands clenched. No, she thought, I can’t do this. I can’t fall apart now.

Because just as quickly as the ache had come, another image surged forward—unbidden and cruel.

Ewan.

Leaning against that desk.

Victoria’s hands on his shirt.

Their lips—

Athena’s breath caught. Her pulse spiked.

The sadness vanished, devoured by the raw, familiar burn of anger.

"Damn it!" she hissed, slamming her bag shut so hard the sound bounced off the walls. She cursed herself under her breath, biting down the emotion threatening to crack her voice. Weakness was a luxury she could no longer afford.

She gathered her documents with jerky movements, stuffing them into her bag, refusing to look back at the chair Sandro had been sitting in. "You’re not weak," she muttered, straightening her spine. "You’re not."

With her chin lifted and her heart pounding, she walked out of the boardroom.

The hallway seemed longer than usual—every echo of her heels a reminder of what she’d just done. Reporters still loitered beyond the main lobby, but the assistants and staff she passed greeted her with forced smiles, uncertain whether to meet her eyes.

When she reached the CEO’s office, the sight of Sandro there—packing his things into his bag—made her pause.

The other assistants were hovering awkwardly nearby, whispering in low tones. Papers were scattered across the desk, the remnants of someone’s daily life being erased in real time.

Athena stood in the doorway for a beat, then spoke, her tone flat but cutting. "So," she said, "are you all planning to quit too? Like Sandro?"

The assistants froze. Their eyes darted to Sandro, then back to her. No one answered.

Sandro didn’t look up right away. He zipped the side pocket of his bag, exhaled softly, then finally turned toward them. "Stay," he told the assistants, his voice calm but weary. "Stay and be loyal to the new boss. This company still has a chance to grow. Don’t throw away your livelihoods because of me."

Athena’s brows lifted slightly. "How noble," she said quietly, sarcastically.

Then louder, to the assistants, "But if any of you feel you can’t be loyal, don’t worry—I can hire people who will be."

Sandro’s head snapped up then, his gaze sharp, but he said nothing. He just shouldered his bag, the disappointment on his face cutting deeper than any insult.

"I’ll be back tomorrow," he said simply. "Just to make sure my space is cleared out properly."

Athena’s lips parted, a retort hovering at the edge of her tongue, but she couldn’t get it out. The guilt struck then—sudden and sharp—twisting through her chest.

He wasn’t just an employee. He had been a friend. Ewan’s friend. Her friend, once. And she had just made him jobless.

She bit her lower lip, tasting blood. "Make sure everything’s in order," she said finally, forcing her voice to stay even.

Sandro nodded curtly and walked out, not sparing her another glance.

She fled down the hallway to the main office—his office—and shut the door behind her with a soft thud. The silence there was worse.

Sandro stood near the foot of the bed, arms folded, jaw tight. "You can’t be serious," he said flatly. "You’re asking me not to quit?"

Sandro blinked. "Ewan, she just took your company. She humiliated you in front of the entire board. And now you want me to stay and work for her?"

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