Dark Revenge Of An Unwanted Wife: The Twins Are Not Yours! - Chapter 214

Chapter 214: The ‘Psychatric Clinic’
“Where are we going to?” Fiona asked, speaking up for the first time since she started this journey with Ewan, where Sandro was the driver. Zane was with them too, sitting in front with Sandro.

None of them, however, gave Fiona any answer. But Fiona wasn’t one to be ignored.

“Please, Ewan, tell me which hospital you are taking me to?” She asked, keeping her tone light while her eyes drifted intermittently to the area around them.

It was more like the outskirts of the city, except here was devoid of any living soul. No houses, no restaurants, no pedestrians. The vegetation was scanty too. Were they going to dump her in a sandy desert and abandon her there to die?

Fiona shook her head. Ewan wouldn’t do that, not when he believed that her father had controlled her actions, not when he believed that she was not in her right senses.

“We are going to the psychiatric hospital, where you will be treated right, Fiona. I think I owe you that much for saving my life. Seeing as you used the word ‘please,’ you are yourself now, right?” Ewan answered, keeping his tone light too. “So where is Constance, by the way? What is she doing now?”

Fiona bit her lip, wondering how to answer this question in a believable way. “Constance is within, trying to fight her way out. She wants to take over. But I won’t let her. She has caused more havoc than ever…”

She paused and placed her palm on Ewan’s arm, needing to perfect her act properly, her heart in her throat, half expecting that Ewan would throw her hand away. But he didn’t.

The flicker of hope within her blossomed into a huge ball of wishes.

“Ewan, I am sorry for all the trouble Constance has brought to you. You see, after the drowning incident, my brain underwent some problems, and to cope, I had unconsciously created her. It’s really my fault…” She said, sniffing, pretending to cry and grasping Ewan’s arm tighter.

Ewan patted her hand calmly, twice. “Don’t worry, Fiona. Everything will be fine. By the time you spend a couple of months at the clinic, you will be fine and good, having no issues with Constance again.”

Fiona nodded, biting her lip. She wondered if she should take a step further.

Inhaling softly, she covered the distance between herself and Ewan, placing her head on his shoulder. “Thank you so much, Ewan. I know you will understand. I will apologize to Athena too after I am well treated. I promise. I will do anything to make everything perfect and smooth again.”

Ewan nodded slowly. “That will be good, Fiona. Take a nap, if you wish; the journey is still quite long.”

Fiona stamped down the feeling of uncertainty, breathing in Ewan’s scent. She didn’t need drugs to keep Ewan under control.

“Alright, Ewan…” She muttered, closing her eyes and tightening her arms around Ewan. So what if Morgan failed? She had Ewan on her side again. The edges of her lips tugged with a smile. She was not out of the game yet.

Moments later, Fiona was awakened by a soft tap on her arm. “Get up, Fiona. We are here.”

Fiona opened her eyes slowly, slightly disoriented. However, as she raised her head from Ewan’s arms, everything came rushing back.

“Hey, did I droop on you? I am sorry…” She said to Ewan, checking his arm, her voice coated with drowsiness and faux gentleness.

Ewan waved her away chirpily. “It’s okay. We are here.”

Fiona furrowed her brows as she took note of their surroundings when she stepped out of the car. The environment was still sparse, although now the vegetation was thicker. It felt like they were in the outer parts of a budding forest.

She couldn’t see any houses around; the roads weren’t exactly the best, and she could tell it was evening.

Just how many hours had they spent on the road? She wondered, finally taking note of the building in front of her, surrounded by thick vegetation.

It was a one-story building, whitewashed, with flowers organized in the front porch.

Why would someone build a psychiatric clinic this far from the city, and where was the signboard that should indicate its name?

Before she could ask these questions, Ewan spoke up without looking at her. “This way…” He said, moving toward the front door, followed closely by Zane.

“Aren’t you going in?” She was startled by Sandro’s voice behind her.

“I am,” She said finally, moving quickly to catch up with Ewan. She had never liked Sandro. He had always given her the creeps; he was the only one immune to her charms and deception. It was as if he had been her nemesis in a past life!

The inside of the one-story building was just as the outside: whitewashed, sparsely decorated with flowers, and desolate.

There were no frames or medical pictures hanging on the walls, as was the norm in other hospitals or clinics. There were no nurses gossiping around or even a receptionist to welcome patients.

Fiona looked around the central room, which was even smaller than her room in Ewan’s mansion. This was the place where Ewan believed would cure her?

What about the Whitman hospitals? They had an arm dedicated to psychiatric patients. What about other prestigious hospitals? Why here?

She scanned the room distastefully, yet keeping a docile face. There was a library at the far west end of the room. She tried peering at the books, but they weren’t written in English, and they didn’t look like medical texts.

At the opposite side was a structure erected like a counter, for the receptionist she presumed, but where was he or she?

“Aren’t we going to be welcomed?” She finally asked Ewan, who she noticed was typing away on his phone while his friends stood by his side, bored.

At her question, however, they all turned to her.

“He is out for a second. He will be back soon,” Ewan answered calmly, before returning to his phone. The others returned to their bored gazes into space.

Fiona swallowed, not understanding the restless feeling in her heart. Was there something she was missing?

She picked up her phone to see if she had received any messages from Morgan, but stopped when she remembered Athena’s words. Her phone was tapped, so whatever she did with Morgan would be evident to them.

Secondly, she was not alone. If Ewan and his friends found out that she was texting Morgan, then they would suspect her story. For she wasn’t Constance now, but plain Fiona.

Signing tiredly, she left the phone in her pocket and waited with the guys for the doctor.

Five minutes later, she heard the tooting of a horn. The nature of the toot reminded her of cars used in ancient times. She quelled her curiosity to look out from the window, patiently waiting for the doctor to come in.

Moments later, a middle-aged man wearing a cotton plaid shirt, faded blue jeans, and brown combat shoes stepped into the room, carrying a white bag filled with groceries.

“Oh my, Ewan… long time…” The man said, dropping the groceries on one of the worn-out sofas, and walking up to Ewan. They shared a firm handshake.

All Fiona could think was that the man looked nothing like a doctor. If anything, he looked like an Irish mercenary!

“Is she the one?” The man continued after exchanging greetings with Sandro and Zane.

Ewan nodded. “The one and only.”

Fiona furrowed her brows as the man’s eyes ran over her, from her aching head to her dusty black heels that were killing her feet.

“Do you think she will survive it? She looks… delicate.”

Ewan laughed—a hollow laugh that stirred the restless feeling in Fiona again. Something was wrong here. She was sure of it. But what?

“She should. Since she is strong enough to commit atrocities and wreck people’s lives; she should be strong enough to face the consequences.”

“Ewan… what are you talking about?” Fiona stuttered then, taking a step away from Ewan and his friends, who she could see were staring at her with a mischievous gleam in their eyes—mischief and disgust.

Their gentle demeanor has been replaced quickly with hostility, including Ewan, as he turned to face her.

“It was so disgusting hearing you talk about Constance. It was even more disgusting and upsetting that you didn’t care for atoning for your crimes. There was no remorse. No, all you thought about was escape. All you thought about was fooling me again. Pleading insanity?”

Ewan laughed coldly, sending chills down Fiona’s back. “Congratulations then; you are about to go insane for real.”

Fiona opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She didn’t know in details what Ewan was talking about—her really going insane—but she didn’t want to find out either. So, she fell to her knees. “Ewan, I’m sorry!!”

“Ewan, please…” She continued when Ewan said nothing, only staring at her with an unreadable expression. “Ewan, please have mercy.”

“Mercy?” Ewan finally cackled in disbelief. “That word should remain extinct in your mouth as it has always been.”

A pause.

“Welcome home, Fiona. Your belongings are all in the second room upstairs. My friend here will take absolutely good care of you, especially your mental health.”