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

Chapter 238: Long Night II

What is he doing here? That was the first thought that raced through Ewan’s mind as he watched Antorub

slow circles on Athena's hands.

A wave of frustration washed over him, accompanied by a slight tremor in his hands and a dull, painful thud of

his heart that seemed to sync with his simmering anger and jealousy.

Zane nudged him subtly, a familiar, silent reminder to keep his cool, to breathe, and to temper the emotions

threatening to spill over.

"Ewan, what a lovely sight!" Florence exclaimed, oblivious of the gathering tension in the room, her voice bright

with enthusiasm as she sprang to her feet and hurried over to him.

Her hands were warm and comforting as she pinched his cheeks, just as she had done so many times during his

childhood.

Ewan couldn't help but let out a muffled laugh, which drew a soft giggle from Kathleen, who was watching—

amused—at the spectacle, right before she felt Nathaniel’s palm on her thigh.

Ewan'’s expression was more comical as he tried to free his cheeks which were squeezed and drawn apart

byFlorence’s strong grasp—making Old Mr. Thorne laugh out loud, unable to suppress the emotion any longer.

Gianna, who had determined, seconds ago, not to let Zane’s presence spoil her joyful mood, joined in the

laughter too. She was in high spirits after all. She had successfully bagged a delightful new contract that had her

bouncing with energy, eager to celebrate.

"Good afternoon, ma’am..." Ewan greeted once he was finally freed from Florence's grip, followed closely by his

friends.

The room then erupted into a flurry of greetings, hands shaking, laughter echoing as the awkwardness of the

moment dissolved. Even Aiden, who had worn a foul mood since earlier in the day, seemed to set it aside as he

anticipated the this evening might bring.

Kathleen and Nathaniel, however, didn't know to navigate this waters that was knowing their father. They hadn't

greeted him, neither had they acknowleged his greetings. Not really...except a barely seen curt nod would count

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as one.

"So, Ewan, what do we have here?" Old Mr. Thorne called out when the atmosphere began to dip into awkward

silence, a momentary lapse after Florence excused herself to discuss dinner arrangements with the servants.

Ewan swallowed hard, shooting furtive glances at his two friends, the weight of expectations pressing on him.

Finally, he gestured to the bags before him, his heart racing just a little faster. "Gifts for the kids, their mother,

you, and your wife..."

"What about me?" Gianna interjected playfully, raising an eyebrow in mock disbelief.

The intensity of her gaze nearly took Ewan’s breath away, but the smirk playing on her lips revealed she was

merely teasing.

Relief washed over him as he broke into a nervous laugh, nervously rubbing his hands together. He inwardly

chided himself for the level of anxiety he felt in front of this familiar group of people.

"Well, | owe you one then, Gianna. Do you have anything in mind?" Ewan offered, trying to smooth over his

nerves with a confident smile.

Beside him, Zane’s sharp intake of breath sent a small jolt of alarm through Ewan, but he was hopeful that his

friend would manage to control his mouth and feelings in this moment. He had brought them along for support,

not to create additional .

"Well, an Areso gown would be nice," Gianna replied, an innocent yet mischievous twinkle dancing in her eyes.

Ewan opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted when Zane scoffed bitterly, the tension in the room

thickening once more. Ewan turned and shot a glare at him, silently urging his friend to reel it in.

"I will be outside. Need to make a call," Zane declared, avoiding Ewan’s gaze but knowing full well he had

stepped in it. He quickly rose from his chair and excused himself, striding toward the door without another word.

An uncomfortable silence settled over the room once Zane exited, punctuated only by the soft rustle of clothing

and subtle glances exchanged. Gianna busied herself with her phone, feigning interest as the tension mounted.

Athena sighed softly, her gaze drifting between Ewan and her children. She could see the beads of sweat forming

on Ewan'’s forehead, despite the air conditioning blasting in the room. The twins, too, wore expressions that

betrayed their discomfort, as if they were seated on hot coals.

And there was Old Mr. Thorne, regarding her with a knowing look; a plea.

Athena sighed again, sensing she would need to break the ice. Ewan had clammed up, tongue-tied and unable to

find his footing.

"Aren't you going to check out your own gift, old man?" She began, her tone light, immediately Florence

returned.

Florence, who had re-joined them, wore a bright smile and her eyes sparkled with happiness. A bystander might

have mistakenly thought she had found her lost son.

"Ewan got you a gift? What about me?" She exclaimed, just as Athena had guessed.

Ewan chuckled softly, feeling the tension in his shoulders relax just a little. "Yours is there..." He said, gesturing

toward the gifts stacked nearby.

Immediately, Florence ambled over to the gift he indicated, her excitement palpable as she picked it up. She also

grabbed her husband's gift, wisely leaving the other items in their original positions.

"Oh my... | love this! So you do remember my love for vintage jewelry..." Florence exclaimed happily, her fingers

gently caressing the exquisite Victorian pieces nestled within the antique box.

Beside her, Old Mr. Thorne lit up with satisfaction as he received his own gift from Ewan. He couldn't unveil it

here; it was a shiny antique pistol, a rare Remington model!

Old Mr. Thorne cradled the object lovingly, a glimmer of nostalgia in his eyes, increasing the curiosity among the

audience who remained in suspense, unaware of what gift had prompted such joy.

The twins, particularly intrigued, subtly leaned forward in their seats, eager to discover what had captivated

their grandfather so completely, yet they didn’t want to give Ewan the satisfaction of believing his gift had

moved mountains.

Hence, they remained planted in their seats, struggling with curiosity, mirroring their mother’s own

apprehension.

"Where is Athena's gift?" Antoasked next, impatience coloring his voice when he could no longer hold back.

Ewan opened his mouth, ready to tell him that it was none of his concern; but before he could do so, Sandro,

sensing the mounting frustration radiating from his friend, blurted out, "Right there." He even pointed directly at

it, making things all the more awkward.

Athena furrowed her eyebrows, glancing between Ewan and Sandro, confusion etched on her features. She

hesitated in picking the gift, her expression questioning their motives.

Gianna, fueled by a playful spirit, rose from her seat with a mischievous smile, shaking off any remaining bad

moods. She strolled over to the gifts and retrieved Athena's offering with tic flair.

"What's it?" Antodrawled, a bored expression settling on his features as he leaned back in his chair.

Ewan’s anticipation spiked as he watched Gianna peer into the bag. The seconds stretched on, each moment

filled with mounting tension as he clutched mentally at his heart, praying that Athena's response would not bring

his earlier fears to fruition. Pleaseletitbewellreceived.

"Books," Gianna proclaimed, with a raised eyebrow.

Antonio’s laughter erupted then and echoed through the room, causing Ewan'’s face to flush deep crimson with

shand embarrassment.

"Books? Who gets a woman books?" Antolaughed the more, his incredulity ringing clear.

Unconsciously, Ewan bowed his head, wishing for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. Hadn't Zane

warned him?

Beside him, Sandro gritted his teeth, his growing annoyance palpable. "It’s the thought that counts, Antonio," He

defended, his voice low but firm, trying to salvage the moment.

"Still... books? Are you broke, Ewan?" Antoteased, the laughter still dancing in his voice, reviving the tension

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