He Told His Mistress He Only Married Me Out Of Guilt—Now He’s Tearing The City Apart Looking For The Heir He Never Knew Existed

""Who arranged it?"" Gideon’s voice was dangerously low, carrying a freezing edge that made the seasoned security chief visibly flinch.

The monitor glowed in the dim room, casting harsh shadows across Gideon's jawline. On the screen, the silver van disappeared past the wrought-iron perimeter gates of Blackridge House without a hint of hesitation.

""Sir, she booked it from an unlisted prepaid burner phone,"" Chief Hayes replied, his fingers flying across the console keyboard. ""Paid in untraceable cash through a proxy courier service two days ago. She didn't use any household accounts, none of the black cards, and no private drivers. Mrs. Vale… she planned this down to the exact second the guards rotated shifts at four-fifteen.""

Gideon felt the air being violently pulled from his lungs. Planned. This wasn't a sudden burst of grief or an impulsive fit of tears. Evelyn had plotted her departure with military precision. She had packed, secured independent transit, and walked—wheeled—away from the fortress he had spent six years designing to keep her protected.

Or so he had told himself.

He pulled the ultrasound printout from his coat pocket, his thumb brushing over the delicate white crescent. Five weeks and four days. While he had stood in his study, allowing Celeste Arden to drape herself over his chest, his wife had stood on the other side of that mahogany door holding the beginning of a family.

""I owe her my life. Not my love.""

The echo of his own words rang in his ears like a gunshot. He closed his eyes, an agonizing tightness wrapping around his chest. He had said it to ward Celeste off. He had spoken those brutal, detached words to establish a ruthless boundary, to remind Celeste that nobody would ever replace Evelyn in his house or under his protection. But Celeste’s calculated touch, followed by his split-second hesitation in shoving her away, had painted a picture straight out of hell.

And Evelyn had seen it all.

""Ping her personal cell phone,"" Gideon barked, opening his eyes, now burning with pure fury.

""Her primary phone is sitting on her nightstand upstairs, Mr. Vale. Sim card snapped in half,"" Hayes reported grimly. ""Her bank accounts show zero activity. She hasn't touched the trust funds. She took only three shirts, two pairs of trousers, her medications, and her medical files.""

""She has spinal damage, Hayes! She needs a physical therapist three days a week!"" Gideon roared, slamming both fists onto the desk. The glass top shuddered. ""Find that driver! Pull the traffic feeds from the municipal grid! If I don't have an address in thirty minutes, I will tear this department down brick by brick!""

He stormed out of the control room and marched directly toward his private quarters. As he crossed the second floor, a figure emerged from the shadow of the gallery.

Celeste Arden stood there, wearing a pale silk dress, her eyes wide with carefully manufactured innocence.

""Gideon?"" she whispered softly, taking a step toward him. ""I heard shouting. Is everything alright? Where did Evelyn go?""

Gideon stopped in his tracks. For the first time in his life, he looked at Celeste and felt an overwhelming wave of disgust so sharp it tasted like bile. Six years ago, when an ambush took his driver’s life and sent his car hurtling over a ravine, Evelyn had crawled through burning fuel, shattering her own vertebrae against jagged steel to drag him free before the gas tank detonated. She had given up her mobility, her dreams, and her freedom for him.

Celeste had been in Paris then, sipping champagne with a disgraced foreign banker.

""Get out,"" Gideon whispered.

Celeste froze, her painted smile faltering. ""Gideon, please. What happened in your office—""

""I gave you five minutes of courtesy because our families shared a name thirty years ago,"" Gideon snarled, stepping into her personal space with an aura so menacing that Celeste scrambled backward against the wall. ""You came into my home. You poisoned my wife’s peace. If you ever set foot on Blackridge land again, I will have your family's remaining assets dissolved before sunrise. Get off my property.""

He turned his back on her gasping protests. As Celeste hurried down the marble stairs in terror, Gideon looked down at the cream note clutched in his trembling hand.