Dark Revenge Of An Unwanted Wife The Twins Are Not Yours novel Chapter 167

Chapter 167: Visiting Mr. Thorne VI

The silence in the room had become unbearable for Athena, suffocating even, as she sat amidst the palpable tension.

Old Mr. Thorne and his wife, Florence, both seemed to stare into the depths of their own thoughts, looking down not just at the plush carpet beneath their feet but into the chasms of their grief.

They wore expressions that reflected a complex mix of emotions—downcast yet somehow angry. Athena couldn’t help but feel a surge of frustration directed at Victoria.

How could she be so insensitive as to bring up such an unreasonable question? Where had Cedric found such an oblivious woman?

She exchanged furtive glances with the kids, seated nearby and clearly as confused and uncomfortable as she was.

Inhaling deeply, she opened her mouth to suggest an exit for herself and her children, but before she could speak, Old Mr. Thorne’s voice cut her short.

"My Emily was poisoned. She and her husband. They were poisoned with my own poison, right in my own house. I have never stopped blaming myself."

Athena furrowed her brows, grappling with the weight of his words and their shocking implications.

"Your own poison?" She echoed, her confusion evident. The phrase sent chill bumps across her skin, igniting an intense curiosity alongside a tinge of fear.

"You remember the poison that had been used on Fiona’s friends?" Old Mr. Thorne continued, and Athena nodded slowly, gripped by the grim narrative unfolding before her. She felt Florence tighten her grip on her hands, as if seeking her support amidst the turmoil.

"The same poison was used on my daughter and her husband. I kept the poison around as a keepsake, remnants from a trip to one of the middlebelt countries. After their death, I held onto it as a memorial—a reminder of my foolishness for not listening to my instincts, or to my wife."

"Edward..." Florence whispered, her voice a soft echo of concern and heartache, but Old Mr. Thorne was on a roll now, lost in the torrent of his memories.

"That night, I told them to stay over. After months of being unavailable, burdened with work, they finally came for a visit. My daughter especially had been out of my sight for nearly a year, and I was desperate to spend time with her. They agreed to stay, even though they weren’t entirely comfortable with the presence of the entire Thorne family. My Emily was an introvert, and she married another introvert—they detested family gatherings."

Old Mr. Thorne paused, the sorrow evident in his furrowed brow. "That night, I woke up suddenly with an instinctual nudge to check around the house, but I was too tired—having had too much to drink and feeling oddly euphoric—to act on it. The morning brought the horrifying shock of a maid’s scream, waking me from a peaceful slumber to a living nightmare. She found the couple dead in their room."

Pain etched deeper into his features as he paused, allowing the words to sink in. "If I had listened to my instincts that night, I might have caught the person who did this. If I had heeded my wife, I wouldn’t have kept such a deadly poison around, even if it was supposedly secured in a safe. Twice it has been breached. Twice, two sets of people died before I finally learned my lesson. I am truly a stupid old man."

"Please don’t say that," Athena spoke up, her heart aching at the somber atmosphere that wrapped around them like a heavy blanket. "We all make mistakes sometimes; it’s what makes us human."