All Chapters of His Wrong Wife, His Right Obsession : Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Lauren’s POV The clock read 2:47 a.m.I sat hunched over Julian's laptop in the dark corner of his study, the glow of the screen the only light and my pulse so loud in my ears I was convinced it could wake him. The bedroom was forty feet away. He was sleeping—or at least pretending to. With Julian, I could never be sure.My fingers moved carefully and deliberately. One wrong keystroke and the whole system would flag. I'd spent three nights learning the pattern of his encryption, watching over his shoulder during those fake "come sit with me while I work" moments that he thought were about control and that I was weaponizing for survival. Tonight, it was finally paying off.The first layer cracked open.I exhaled so quietly it barely moved the air.NEREID. There it was—the account name sitting in the directory like it had been waiting for me. Offshore. Encrypted. Protected by at least two more authentication walls I hadn't gotten to yet. But I was in the first portal. That was someth

Lauren’s POVSilas called me at 1:13 a.m.Not my regular phone. The hidden one buried inside the lining of my old poker jacket—the one I’d shoved into the back of Serena’s closet like pretending it didn’t exist would somehow erase the mess my life had become.The vibration nearly stopped my fucking heart.Julian was asleep beside me. Or at least I thought he was.I slid carefully from the bed, my naked skin cold against the marble floor, and grabbed the jacket before slipping into the bathroom. The second the door clicked shut, I answered.“What?” I whispered harshly.Silas exhaled once. “You need to hear this now.”The tension in his voice made my stomach tighten. Silas was controlled even when bullets were flying. If he sounded like this, something was wrong.I locked the bathroom door. “What happened?”“I confirmed it,” he said quietly. “Vivian Moreau’s shell companies overlap with Dante’s old offshore channels.”Cold spread through my chest.“What?”“She’s been moving money throug

Lauren’s POVThe call cut off, but the sound of that woman’s voice stayed trapped inside my skull.“Transfer the first batch of the money or Julian gets everything tomorrow.”My hand shook so badly I almost dropped the burner phone onto the marble floor.Jesus Christ.Forty-eight hours had become twenty-four.No.Less than that.I stared at the dark screen, my chest tightening so hard it hurt to breathe. My reflection stared back at me from the penthouse windows—Serena’s face, Lauren’s fear.The worst part?I did not even know if the woman was bluffing anymore.DNA results.Passport logs.Offshore files.Everything kept closing in around me like steel walls.The elevator dinged softly behind me.I froze as I heard the slow footsteps.I would have recognized those slow, graceful footsteps even in my dreams.Julian.I did not turn immediately. I couldn’t. My face would have betrayed me too quickly.His low, calm voice came from behind me, “You’ve been standing there for five minutes.”I

Lauren’s POV The eviction notice was taped crookedly across my apartment door.FINAL NOTICE.Three words.That was all it took to erase whatever pathetic little stability I had left.Rain soaked through my hoodie as I ripped the paper down, my fingers trembling hard enough to tear the corner. The hallway smelled like mold and cigarettes. Somewhere downstairs, a baby cried while a couple screamed at each other in Spanish.Home sweet fucking home.I unlocked the door and stepped into the apartment I used to think was depressing before I ever touched Julian’s world.Now it felt like a coffin.The mattress on the floor looked smaller somehow. The flickering kitchen light buzzed overhead while water dripped steadily from the leaking sink.I stared at the eviction notice again.Three days.Three fucking days.Jake had cleaned out every cent in my savings before he died. Whatever cash I’d hidden was gone. The diner barely paid enough to survive, and every interview I attended ended the same

Lauren’s POV Living with Silas felt like dangerous comfort. Every day I told myself I’d find my own place soon, but the eviction notice on my old apartment and the stack of rejected job applications said otherwise. His place was quiet and cozy. It smelled like bacon and coffee most mornings.He didn’t crowd me. That was the worst part. He just existed in the space, steady as hell, cooking simple shit like eggs and rice or grilled chicken without making a big deal about it.“You don’t have to do this every night,” I said one evening, leaning against the kitchen counter while he flipped something in the pan. My feet ached from another day pounding pavement in cheap sneakers.Silas didn’t look up right away. “You need to eat. Sit.”I huffed but dropped into the chair. “Bossy asshole.”A faint smirk tugged at his mouth. “You’ve called me worse.”We ate mostly in silence, but it wasn’t awkward. His eyes would flick to me every few minutes, that quiet intensity that made my skin prickle.