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

Athena was utterly amused and pleased when Fiona finally realized that the man covered with the stench and droplets of blood, sitting on the bare floor a few feet away from her, was Morgan—her main boyfriend.

Athena watched with a satisfied smirk on her lips as Fiona drew back her head, as if struck, momentarily forgetting the pain smarting her legs, and gaped at Morgan, then at Ewan, and finally at her.

Athena could see the looks of disbelief, shock, and annoyance flashing across Fiona's face—both at Morgan and at Ewan—right before the woman let out a curse.

"You let yourself get captured! You fool! Who will get me out of here then?!" Fiona gritted out, her hand tapping gently on her fractured leg, hissing when the pain kicked up a notch.

"Someone get her a medic! Can't you see she is bleeding out?!" Morgan screamed, ignoring Fiona's contempt, ignoring Athena's request, ignoring his own condition—the weakness of his body that foretold a possible infection if his wounds weren't treated now.

He frowned, his lips puckering in anger, his left fist clenched—for his right was too painful to fold—when Athena laughed boisterously in response, and the others joined in the loud uncaring laughter.

"Honestly, Morgan, you haven't gotten the memo yet?" Athena questioned, raising an incredulous eyebrow. "I didn't take you for someone thick in the head."

She turned to Heron and Dax, whose heads were hung low, lost in their headspaces, and tsked. "At least these two understand what's about to go down. They understand that the game is up."

Morgan chuckled drily, upsetting Athena. What was there to laugh about?

"Do you think the movement would end with my death? Do you think my sponsors care about me? The Grey disease will keep…"

The rest of his words were drowned in a bloodied cough that escaped his mouth when one of Ewan's men kicked him from behind.

"Of course, I'm aware the movement isn't over. But apprehending you? That's a huge progress. Now, enough talk. Are you going to talk to Connor about a better way to treat Fiona, or should I let him involve more men in the equation?"

But Morgan was silent, only wincing when Fiona hissed once again in pain.

Ewan nodded at Connor, and the Irish male used his left foot to stamp on Fiona's broken leg.

The scream that erupted from the bloodied mouth of the female was enough to tear down the building. Not even Connor's threats and hard slaps to her mouth could quench such pain, such sobs, such heart-wrenching screams of agony.

"I thought you were a doctor… how can you bear to stand this?" Morgan finally spoke, his voice hoarse, his eyes bleary with unshed tears; the male wanted to weep.

Athena found it hilarious. "So, because I am a doctor, I should let people get away with their atrocities? You seem to forget that I worked with the CIA, and I'm still working with Nimbus… in that case, it's my right to deliver justice…"

"And is this justice, righteous Athena?" Morgan asked, to Ewan's amusement.

Was the latter trying to blackmail Athena emotionally? Ewan held back the urge to take over the questioning. If he did, there wouldn't be time for all this long-winded talk and circling around. No, he would cut straight to the point!

He glanced at Athena, noting her expression—whether she would give in—so he could step in and remind her why Morgan needed to be punished. But Morgan wasn't done.

"Seeing as you're not fazed by Ewan, it would mean that you've forgiven him despite the atrocities he committed as Wolfsbane… why can't you forgive me then? Why can't you forgive Fiona? Are her crimes up to par with Ewan's?"

Athena maintained a blank expression, contemplating Morgan's audacity. Did he think that because she was a woman, she could overlook her anger and hurt?

Morgan, thinking he was getting close to some favorable conclusion with Athena, inhaled deeply, licking his lower lip.

"We can go to jail if you want, but…"

Athena burst out laughing then. She bent over, holding her stomach as she laughed—one hand on Ewan's shoulder as if for support—until a tear slipped from her eyes, confusing Morgan.

"Is jail not enough? Maybe life imprisonment…" He tried again, his mind calculating the number of policemen on his payroll.

"Do you think I'm a joke, Morgan?" Athena asked in a deathly calm voice, stepping closer to him.

Morgan swallowed painfully and shook his head. "I'm just trying…"

"To blackmail me emotionally. You tried the 'doctor' card, and since it didn't work, you're now trying the 'emotion' card—gaslighting, basically. I wouldn't be surprised, given your narcissism…"

She turned to Connor. "Get me some gloves."

Then she reverted her attention to Morgan. "You mentioned Ewan—well, you both are vastly different. I don't owe you any explanation either. And he's not the one sponsoring the Grey disease now, spoiling my practice..."

Meanwhile, Connor hurried upstairs gleefully to get the gloves from the compartment box. When he returned, Ewan's crew had left Morgan's side and gathered behind Ewan, their expressions bored—as if they were watching a show.

"Here, the gloves."

"Thanks," Athena muttered, sliding her hands into the gloves carefully. She cast a glance at Ewan, who winked at her—much to her chagrin—before looking at Fiona. The latter's eyes widened in terror.

"Please… I'm sorry," Fiona begged, making a retreat.

Fiona wasn't sure what Athena wanted to do, but the cold countenance—the chilly aura that had enveloped her once nemesis—was enough to send fear deep into her heart.

She bit down on the scream that wanted to escape her lips when pain rocketed through her entire being, triggered by her fleeing movement. She let out a sigh of relief, however, when Athena ignored her and walked up to Morgan.

"Knife," Athena called out, her voice as chilly as winter, alerting Ewan that this version of Athena was one he had never seen before.

He watched with furrowed brows as Connor hurried to fulfill the task, eager to please.

He watched, eyes widening slightly, as Athena took the medium-sized knife, lifted Morgan's bound hands, and sank the tip of the blade into the open, fresh wound on the male's missing index finger.

Morgan gritted his teeth at first, sweat beading around his forehead and falling, but when Athena smiled coldly—humorless—and pushed down the metal, Morgan had no choice but to scream.

And yet, Athena kept pressing down, her eyes fixed on his face—until the piece of flesh split into two, until the knife clashed against the bone.

When a gasp escaped Heron's lips at the gory sight, Athena, without taking her eyes off Morgan, stabbed the bloody knife into Heron's thigh.

The speed, strength, and intensity—plus the element of surprise—caused Heron to cry out next. She kept stabbing the same point on his thigh with insane accuracy and precision, never removing her gaze from Morgan, who was still sobbing in pain.

Morgan believed he had just met Satan in human form.

That thigh was gone now. Ewan thought, his lips pressed into a thin line as he lost count of how many times Athena had stabbed Heron; the latter had even passed out. Beside the fallen member, Dax was having a panic attack.

And still, Athena wouldn't stop stabbing.

Fiona watched the spectacle with an open mouth and widened eyes.

Crazy. She thought. Athena was crazy.

"Athena! Jesus! Stop!!" Aiden's voice cut through the haze that had cocooned everyone in the sitting room.

Beside him was Susan, who was heaving; they had both run from the car when the engine broke down a few meters away.

But Athena didn't stop—until Aiden grasped her from behind and pulled her away.

"Stop it. Hey. Stop it." He hugged her to himself, kissing his teeth angrily at the bloody sight before him, then turned to Ewan.

"What the hell, man! You couldn't stop this nonsense?" He cursed, even though he knew that once Athena made up her mind about something, hardly anyone could change it.

"At this rate, we won't have anyone left to question!" He added, noting that Morgan's life was slipping away.

"Damn! Shit!" He cursed again, successfully removing the knife from Athena's hand. "Why didn't you wait for me?! I have told you again and again to leave the torturing to me. Don't stain your hands—use me… you promised…"

"He was mocking me," Athena muttered, her voice returning to its gentle tone. "And don't blame Ewan. He couldn't have done anything to stop me. And you forget—I'm a doctor; they won't be dying on me. I will resurrect them if they do, and continue the torture if necessary."

"Athena…" Aiden was displeased all the same. He didn't like Athena sinking into this part of her, this part that made her look villainous.

"Do you know what really happened with Scarlett?" Athena asked, tears now streaming from her eyes—tears that broke Ewan's heart, tears that made Susan wonder what the creep had really done to her mother.

"No matter what he did, I will punish him myself. Don't stain your hands, Athena. I don't want that." Aiden replied, rocking her softly.

"But why can you stain your hands, and I can't stain mine?"

Aiden's response was to drop a fatherly kiss on Athena's forehead. "Because it's my job to protect you."

Ewan's heart clenched at the sight and the words. That should be him.

Why hadn't he stopped Athena? Was letting her feel the taste of revenge worth it?