Dark Revenge Of An Unwanted Wife: The Twins Are Not Yours!

Athena was as still as an electric pole at the very instant Fiona's shocking revelation unfolded.

This must be a joke, right? She thought, her eyes breaking away from the stunned stillness, darting frantically from Fiona to everyone in the room.

In the room now brightened by the rays filtering through the open window—as the sun made its ascent in the east, ready to fulfill its duty for the day—she could see clearly the astonishment plastered across everyone's faces.

Astonishment and disbelief. Incredulity. Stupefaction. Startlement. Bewilderment. Even confusion.

She didn't blame them; she was just as plagued with these emotions.

"Fi… Fiona… what did… just say?" Florence stammered, breaking the tense silence that had lasted over a minute. Her steps faltered as she staggered toward Fiona, whose eyes seemed to have gained the confidence of thousands, yet whose shoulders drooped in defeat.

"I answered your question. The questions of everyone. Is that okay to leave here? Is that okay to achieve freedom from this torture house? I really want to leave." Fiona stated calmly, crossing her legs, grimacing as pain upset her nerves.

She really was going to be crippled at this rate, if no one showed her mercy.

They should. She thought, placing her hands on her thigh. They should show her mercy. She would do anything to get out of this place. Even if it meant washing her dirty linen in public.

What was there to save face? She didn't think anyone remembered her anymore—on social media, blogs, or even in society. She was a forgotten narrative now.

Fiona chuckled bitterly at her dilapidated self and ruined reputation. So much for fighting for her place.

She looked up when the silence refused to be broken after her statement and question, not at all surprised, she saw everyone standing still.

This truth was one she was supposed to take to the grave; therefore, it was supposed to keep everyone as silent as the grave, since she had broken the pact she made with her father. At least, the secret deserved that much reverence.

Fiona chuckled again, humorously this time, at her attempt to be funny. It was a good sign, she concluded—her mind could still attempt jokes at this point.

"No one's going to say anything? What about you?" She asked, tired of the silence, turning to face Athena directly, ignoring the gestures Morgan was throwing her way—gestures she didn't care for or understand.

Of what use was he when he couldn't keep to his words, when he failed his promises?

Meanwhile, Athena balked.

To start with, she stood from her seat as if electrocuted, then took hesitant steps away from the scene until her back hit the wall.

She, a Thorne? How?

What in the world was this supposed to mean? That she was Emily's daughter? And also Ewan's savior?

Her head started to thrum with pain—she wanted to remember.

Remember something! She commanded her mind desperately, but all she achieved was more headaches and dizziness.

Her drugs. She worried, her hands nervously tapping her pockets—both the front and back. Nothing. She had forgotten them. Or rather, she hadn't thought to bring them.

Yet how could she have known she would be hit with something capable of rocking her world as she knew it? How was she supposed to know that her identity would suffer another blow? Or was this evolution now?

Calm down, Athena. Deep breaths.

Cecilia Thorne.

No, there must be a mistake somewhere.

Firstly, it was impossible for her to be friends with Ewan at such a young age. Secondly, Emily just couldn't be her mother!

"Fiona, you think this is funny? I'm not sure what game you're trying to play here—putting me up as some other identity—but I think Connor can do so much to reset your mind…" She finally spoke, calm, her voice thick with bewilderment, her eyes stuck on Fiona.

Fiona shrugged in response. "You can do whatever you want, Athena. After all, you've finally won. You won, woman. I thought you'd be glad. You are related to the Thornes… surely that's the only reason they would be asking me about the bracelet…"

She paused, eyes narrowing slightly. "What are you? A lost daughter? Or is it niece? Grand, maybe?"

No response greeted Fiona. She sighed tiredly, clasping her hands together. "Have you ever wondered why I hated you? Do you think it came out of nowhere?"

Athena had no answer, but the way she stared at Fiona implied she craved answers herself. She wasn't alone on this field.

Fiona chuckled, a bitter sound. "Yes, I hated you because you were marrying Ewan. But it actually began before then. As a matter of fact, my anger was because you refused to die, to disappear from his life."

A pause. A cough.

"Water. Please…" Fiona's voice trembled as she interrupted herself.

Connor didn't wait to be told what to do this time. He hurried to bring another bottle of water, then carefully unfastened the cuffs around Fiona's hands.

Fiona sighed in relief, a tear slipping from her eye. Freedom was near. It didn't matter if it was in the black cells.

She took the bottle of water, her hands trembling, ignoring the pungent odor emanating from her body. She drank eagerly, only stopping when the liquid was halved.

"It started many years ago…" Fiona prepared her heavy tongue for the story ahead, licking her lower lips—pleased at the wetness. Good fresh water. A luxury she had come to appreciate since her time here.

"Yeah, many years ago. I think twenty to twenty-one years ago, when Ewan found a new friend. Before then, we were already friends, considering the close relationship our families shared. And we actually found this new friend together." She chuckled softly, a tear falling from her eye.

"We were audacious then, you see. Always wanting to disobey—or rather, Ewan was—and I was always wishing to follow him around. He was like the big brother I didn't have." Her eyes, filled with sorrow and nostalgia, fixed on Ewan.

Ewan, whose posture told of a man in shock, yet whose eyes were as cold as ice as he watched her tell her story.

"Well, on that fateful day, we were just running toward the borders, wondering what was so special about it being off-limits, when we saw her, right before the boundary lines. She was looking around the environment, filled with towering grasses—and yet, not afraid. If anything, her eyes shone with curiosity, intelligence. Even then, I thought she was brave, thought she would make a great addition to our group… until she told us she was from the other town, that she was Zack Moore's daughter."

A pause, where Fiona licked her lower lip again.

"I told Ewan we should leave—they were enemies to our families. We weren't supposed to mix with them. But Ewan…"

She chuckled softly, shaking her head. "He refused. Insisting she wasn't her father, just a little girl. So, he took her under his wing, showed her around the towns—areas where he was sure our parents wouldn't see us… I had no choice but to tag along, thinking it was just for that day… and then she would go back to her town, and never return."

A bitter chuckle, a mockery of herself. "Man, was I so wrong…"

She uncapped the bottle and took a sip of the water, ignoring Morgan's long, longing stare at the bottle.

Get yours, idiot! She mentally cursed him, redirecting her focus to her listening audience.

When was the last time she commanded this much attention? She wondered, a soft smile touching her lips.

Only if she had seen the future—she would have siphoned money from the Thornes, from Ewan, for this truth, before the court case that had cost her, her freedom.

"Well, it became a daily affair. Either we went to her town, or she came to ours. We played together. I enjoyed it, if I'm being honest. It was good having a female friend—boys sometimes didn't cut it."

She cast a sharp glance at Athena, whose mouth had fallen slightly open.

She had been friends with Fiona?

"I'm sure you're finding it hard to believe, Athena, right?"

Athena had no answer. She rather dragged to herself, the chair reclining next to her on the wall, sat down, and continued listening.

Fiona grinned at Athena's disbelief. It was expected. "It all went downhill when I became sick. It was a terrible illness that lasted almost a week. Nothing much to note—except that Ewan got closer to Athena during that period. By the time I rejoined them, their friendship was already far ahead. They even had secret handshakes and eye gestures. I was so angry at being left out, at becoming a third wheel, at not being the center of Ewan's attention anymore, that I reported the friendship to my mother, who then communicated the matter to Ewan's father."

A bitter chuckle. A sip of water.

"Uncle Samuel intervened just as I expected; scolded Ewan, and even grounded him for a week. But that only served to alienate him from me, for he never forgave me for revealing the secret to his parents."

A slight pause.

"Not only did my snitching do that—it also made him closer to Athena, much to my annoyance and jealousy."