All Chapters of The Wife He Threw Away : Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

By the time I returned to the mansion, the air had changed again. Not in a way anyone unfamiliar with the house would notice, but the change was there. The police were still present, and from the look of things, they were already wrapping up. Some of them stood near the entrance, while others moved through the halls with purpose. The staff kept their distance, speaking in lower tones, stepping carefully as if the wrong movement might draw attention. It was almost orderly. Almost. “Mr. Dhark,” one of the officers approached as I stepped inside. “We’re continuing the investigation into the incident at the event.” “I’m aware,” I stated. He nodded, professional. “We’ll try to keep disruption minimal.” He said, in an attempt to reassure me. “That won’t be necessary,” I replied. “Do what you need to.” I didn’t wait for a response. My gaze moved past him immediately, and landed on the blonde woman standing further in. Margot Sinclair. She was speaking to someone

“Start talking.” She didn’t. At least not immediately. Eva stood where she was, her posture rigid, her breathing uneven enough for me to notice, even though she was trying to hide it. Her eyes searched mine—not for comfort, not for understanding—but for information. Typical. How much did I know? More than enough. “You’re overreacting,” she said finally, her voice steadier this time. “This is unnecessary.” When she saw that I wasn’t responding, she moved closer to me. “This is stress,” she continued, softening her voice. “After everything that’s happened—of course things look worse than they are.” “You lied about being pregnant.” The words cut through everything else. Eva stopped for a moment, and swallowed. “You don’t know that.” She said, her jaw tightening. I let out a quiet breath, more disbelief than anything else. She really thought this would hold. “Then perhaps I should call the doctor back in for an ultrasound.” Silence pressed in around u

I didn’t slow down. Once one call ended, and another began almost immediately after. Instructions moved quickly, cleanly, and without repetition. “Status?” A brief pause on the other end. “Still under investigation.” “Good. Keep it that way.” I ended the call before there was anything else to add. I was too busy for anything unnecessary. My desk was already arranged—files aligned, notes marked, timelines mapped out with perfect precision. The crash that had almost been fatal, the incident in the hospital, Claire’s report. Eva needed to be brought to justice. And fast. My gaze rested on Claire’s infertility report for a second longer than necessary. Dr. Ramon. I had requested a meeting. He had stubbornly refused. What he didn’t know was that even more stubborn than he was, especially when it involved cases like this. I closed the file and reached for my keys. Refusal didn’t end conversations, it simply redirected them. — The hospital parking lot

I didn’t just ease into work. By the time the city had fully settled into its rhythm, I was already at my desk, with files open and notes spread out in front of me. The new office still felt unfamiliar in small ways—the layout, the lighting, the quiet hum of a space that now belonged to me—but I didn’t dwell on it. There wasn’t time for that. After the last hearing, after everything that had shifted—especially Nathaniel’s firm stepping in on the opposing side—there was only one direction left to move. Forward. And faster. The room reflected it. Focused. Quiet. Controlled. My attention stayed fixed on the documents in front of me—financial records, contract breakdowns, liability chains mapped out across multiple pages. I moved between them with intent, tracing connections, checking figures, cross-referencing timelines. Something wasn’t right. I paused, eyes narrowing slightly as I went over the same section again. Virex Holdings. The safety compliance reports

The drive back felt longer than it should have. Not because of traffic. Not because of the distance between Sinclair&co and the mansion. But because my mind wouldn’t stay still. I kept seeing it. Claire. And Nathaniel. The way she hadn’t pulled away instinctively like she did when Richard Langford held her inappropriately a few years ago. This time, she just let Nathaniel kiss her. No confusion, no hesitation. It hadn’t been a mistake. It had been a choice. My grip tightened slightly on the steering wheel before I forced it to relax. That shouldn’t have mattered. But it did. I let out a slow breath, fixing my eyes on the road ahead again. What I was feeling wasn’t just anger. Not the kind I was used to. It was something quieter, something less familiar. Something that didn’t settle no matter how I tried to compartmentalize it. Something that lingered. I didn’t have a name for it, but I understood what it meant. My thoughts shifted without my permiss