Chapter 167

Chapter 167

"You said you don't mind."

Victoria blinked. "I was Aiden's wife. The woman everyone called worthless. You really don't look down on me?"

"No."

Before, Edward would have lost patience with this kind of question.

But now he simply answered, calm and steady. "If I looked down on you, I wouldn't have done any of those things."

His time and money didn't grow on trees.

Spending them on someone he didn't care about would be a waste.

But for Victoria—

He didn't see the problem.

Victoria's eyes were still red, but the corners of her mouth curved upward.

She got in the car and settled into the passenger seat, turning her head to watch the fields streak past the window. The weight on her chest cracked open, just a sliver.

If this was all a dream—

She hoped she'd never wake up.

The car pulled back into the city, but Victoria didn't want to go home.

"I'm not ready to go back yet. Would you come somewhere with me?"

She leaned against the passenger seat for a moment before speaking. "I want to visit my mother's old house."

After everything she'd just heard, something had surfaced in her memory.

Something connected to her mother—the woman who'd jumped.

Edward didn't ask questions. He reset the GPS.

"My answer is always the same."

He turned the steering wheel. "I won't say no to you."

The old house sat in a narrow side street in Crescent Harbor. It had been empty for years.

Victoria had a key. The lock resisted when she turned it, stiff with disuse.

Inside, every piece of furniture was draped in white sheets. The air smelled of dust and old wood.

Victoria walked to the living room window and pushed it open. Wind rushed in, and she could see dust motes drifting through the shafts of light.

She stood in the center of the room and looked around.

A black-and-white photograph of Cleo still hung on the wall—young, with a quiet, gentle smile.

Victoria stared at it for a long time. Then she spoke, as if to Edward, or maybe to herself. Edward stood two steps behind her.

"Once the evidence is complete and the case is overturned, those assets will be unfrozen. They'll go under your name."

Victoria turned to face him. Cleo's photograph hung silently on the wall behind her. Afternoon light fell through the window, pooling on the floor between them.

"Edward, when you were doing all of this for me... what were you thinking?"

Edward looked at her for a few seconds. "I was thinking you deserve to get it all back."

Victoria didn't ask anything else.

She walked up to him and stopped, tilting her face up to his.

The distance between them was nothing—close enough to see the fine shadows his lashes cast in the sunlight.

She didn't hesitate. Her hand gripped the front of his jacket. She rose on her toes and brushed her lips against his. Barely a touch.

His lips were warmer than she'd imagined.

She pulled back after that single moment, but her hand stayed fisted in his jacket.

Edward looked down at her. His expression barely shifted, but Victoria caught something churning beneath the surface of his eyes—like a fracture splitting through ice.

"You..."

She opened her mouth, but her voice came out lighter than she intended.

His hand rose and settled against the back of her head. No pressure. Just resting there.

"You just did something good."

Victoria blinked. "...What good thing?"

"You did what I wanted to do but hadn't done yet."

He leaned down, his forehead touching hers lightly, then let go and stepped back half a pace. His expression returned to normal. "Come on. Let's go home and see Yara."

Victoria stood rooted to the spot, the tips of her ears burning. But she didn't shy away. She rubbed her own face with her hands, then followed him out the door.

When she locked up, her fingers trembled slightly. But the smile on her lips wouldn't go away.

---

That evening, back at home, Yara was sprawled on the living room carpet working on a puzzle.

She spotted them walking in together and came running with a puzzle piece held high. "Daddy, help me find where this one goes!"

Edward crouched down and took the piece from her hand. He studied the picture, then pointed to an empty spot. "Right here."

Yara snapped it into place and clapped. "Daddy's so smart!"

Victoria leaned against the entryway cabinet and watched them for a while, then turned and went to the kitchen for water.

As she raised the glass, she caught her own reflection in the window.

She was smiling.

She finished the water. That place deep in her chest—the one that had been slowly loosening—finally opened wide.

---

At the same time, Aiden sat on a plastic chair in a hospital corridor, waiting for Bianca's test results.

A nurse came out and handed him a form. "The nerve damage in her right hand hasn't improved. She'll need a second surgery. The odds of recovery are lower than the first time."

He stood there clutching that piece of paper for a long time.

Bianca's hand wasn't going to heal.

He folded the paper and shoved it into his pocket, then pushed open the door to her room. Bianca was propped against the headboard, staring out the window. She turned at the sound, something flickering in her eyes before it went dark again.

"What did the doctor say?"

"You need another surgery."

"Will it work?"

"...Probably not."

Bianca was quiet for a few seconds. Then she laughed—once, short and hollow.

Aiden stood by the bed looking at her profile. She'd lost so much weight.

He opened his mouth to say something, but what flashed through his mind was the image of Victoria turning away, that strip of white bandage visible on her arm.

He closed his eyes, turned, and walked out of the room.

He didn't look back after the door shut. His steps were faster than when he'd come in.

At the end of the corridor, he pulled out his phone and scrolled to that overseas number. He stared at it for a long time.

He didn't call.

He locked the screen and shoved the phone back in his pocket.

---

What Victoria didn't know was that Edward had Chase submit part of the appeal materials that very night.

Michael's name was officially added to the investigation list. The accounts tied to those shell companies were frozen.

By the time Michael realized his overseas funds wouldn't move, it was already too late.

The next morning, Michael called Aiden. His tone was nothing like before. "My accounts are frozen. What the hell happened? You said everything was clean on your end."

Aiden was in his office packing up when the call came. The board had issued a formal notice—vote next Wednesday.

He set down the file folder in his hand. "I don't know either."

"You don't know?"

Michael's voice pitched higher. "When I connected you with that building materials company, that's not what you told me—"

"That company you connected me with has already spoken up."

Aiden cut him off. "You've got problems on your end. They're not wading into this mess anymore."

Silence on the other end for a few seconds. Then Michael spoke, low and precise. "Aiden, if you sell me out, the money you funneled through my channels over the years won't look too clean either."

He hung up.

Aiden sat motionless, his eyes bloodshot. Then he shot to his feet and swept everything off his desk.