Dark Revenge Of An Unwanted Wife: The Twins Are Not Yours! - Chapter 257

Chapter 257: Nightmare
“Athena! Athena! Are you okay?!!”

Athena’s response was to jerk from side to side on the bed, whimpering, tears rolling down her face contorted with anguish and immense sorrow.

For a brief moment, Gianna contemplated calling Aiden, but he had left an hour ago to attend to his business. Feeling helpless, she watched her friend in distress, wondering what could possibly trouble her this much.

What nightmare could have strung Athena up like this, rendering her unable to wake up from such torment?

Inhaling deeply, Gianna joined Athena on the bed, trying to hug her close, but Athena struck her hand out, connecting sharply with Gianna’s neck.

The sharp cry of pain that erupted from Gianna’s lips was what finally pulled Athena from her hellish dreams. She sprang up smartly, as if released from a coiled spring, her breaths rapid and shallow, the throes of fear still etched on her features.

“Gianna! Gianna! Are you okay?!” She exclaimed, looking around frantically, her gaze wild and unfocused, ignoring the sweat and tears cascading down her face in torrents.

Her frantic search slowed as she finally comprehended her surroundings: she was in her room, not in the damp, nightmarish cell where Morgan had imprisoned her and Scarlet.

The nightmares had returned, haunting her again.

But hadn’t she expected this when she lay down, after Susan had finally left the room a few hours ago? Hadn’t she known it would return the moment she clutched the pillow tightly and whispered softly to herself, to sleep and dream well?

Her throat felt constricted, thoughts pausing as she noticed Gianna on the floor, hands at her neck, gritting her teeth in pain.

“Oh no, no, no…” She cursed loudly, her heart sinking. She wiped the tears from her eyes haphazardly before hurriedly jumping down from the bed, rushing to her friend.

“Gianna, I’m so sorry,” She muttered repeatedly, desperately grabbing Gianna and pulling her against her side. “I’m really, truly sorry. It wasn’t intentional.”

But Gianna only stared up at her, as if trying to peel away the layers of Athena’s guarded existence. Last night, she had glimpsed another layer of her friend, and now this morning… she had no idea that Athena even had nightmares, for God’s sake! Crazy ones at that!

Gianna sighed tiredly, her brow furrowing slightly, keeping her gaze locked on Athena as the latter left her momentarily to grab a pain relief balm and some tablets from her work bag, moving with an urgency that only heightened her concern.

“Here, take this,” Athena urged, handing the tablets to Gianna. “It’s chewable, and I promise it isn’t bitter.”

Gianna paused, taking note of Athena’s downcast and miserable face, sighed again, and then reluctantly accepted the medicine. After clamping her teeth together as she chewed through the tablets, she winced when Athena began massaging the balm into and around her neck.

“I’m so sorry…” Athena continued to mutter, guilt piling on her already heavy conscience, especially when she saw Gianna’s face contort with discomfort with each stroke of her hands.

She mentally chastised herself for being overly optimistic, for believing that she could confront her fears without any repercussions. Perhaps she should have taken a sleeping pill, rather than hold onto the hope that she wouldn’t be tormented by nightmares again, especially after having endured such a long reprieve.

“Stop saying sorry, Athena. I’m fine. I’d rather you tell me what’s going on,” Gianna urged, cutting through Athena’s spiraling thoughts.

“I didn’t know you had nightmares—another thing you kept from me, just like the mission part of you last night. What is going on, best friend?” Gianna turned to Athena, pausing her massaging motions, her eyes full of concern.

The words Ewan had thrown at Athena when she wanted to know who Spider was lingered on the tip of Athena’s tongue like bitter ash, but she just couldn’t bring herself to say them. She felt physically drained, her spirit battered from both the memories and the emotions swirling around her.

In a moment of vulnerability, she pushed away from Gianna and sat on the floor beside her friend, the weight of her thoughts pressing down heavily.

“What was the nightmare about, Athena? It seemed very serious…” Gianna asked, her voice soft, encouraging.

Athena folded her lips in, wondering if she was truly ready to speak about this matter that she had kept hidden from Susan for the sake of the latter’s mental well-being.

“Athena…”

“I just don’t know how to start the story,” Athena muttered, as memories surged into her mind, leaving her powerless against the relentless onslaught.

When she and Scarlet had been taken captive by Morgan, she had tried the SOS pattern with her necklace at first—before it was snatched away by him; he had known what she was doing somehow—but there had been no response.

Athena recalled the overwhelming sense of dread that washed over her when he entered their small cell, his presence as oppressive as a dark cloud. At first, they were tortured in more conventional ways, but when their lips remained sealed—trained for months on how to keep their silence during captivity—Morgan devised more insidious tactics.

Every day, after a three-day break, he would come into their room with a couple of his men, armed with a bare mat. And then he would rape Scarlet, all the while smirking at her, a twisted smile that had struck at Athena’s soul each time.

No matter how hard she had screamed or cried for mercy, no matter how much she had begged for it to stop, nothing had changed the horrific reality they had been trapped in.

She had shouted and cried every time it happened, for the first two occurrences. But by the third time, she found herself divulging information about what they had seen in the tape and where the copies were, despite Scarlet desperately shouting for her to keep her mouth shut, as if her friend had known the true depths of Morgan’s cruelty.

Because even after the truth had been revealed, Morgan continued to come in, subjecting Scarlet to relentless violence. It became a daily requirement for him, and over time, he began introducing BDSM materials into their encounters, especially when he grew tired of her lack of response, his twisted desires demanding more. Eventually Scarlet had started screaming.

Athena remembered losing herself while watching her friend, hands and legs shackled in a way that left them both vulnerable and helpless.

And then came the last time…

When Morgan was forcing himself into Scarlet then, smirking at Athena with satisfaction, he pulled a gun from his pocket and emptied a shot right into the center of Scarlet’s forehead. He didn’t stop until he had spilled his depravity; the evil scene forever etched in Athena’s mind.

Athena had known she would be traumatized, just as she had feared she would be the next victim.

But about a week later, chaos erupted in their hideout—some sort of gang clash, she suspected—because one man, who she didn’t think belonged to the gang, had come in, surveyed her dire situation, and set her free.

He held her tightly, despite the stench radiating from her, as she had vomited on herself day after day in that wretched cell, and he led her out into a world that had felt entirely foreign.

The man had escorted her to the edge of the compound, but when he noticed how gracelessly she slumped to the ground, as if lacking bones, he kept her in the car while he returned to continue the raid.

He had finally returned about an hour later and had driven her to a local hospital without a single word exchanged, not even a name. All she remembered distinctly was his voice when he spoke to the nurse right before leaving. She hadn’t even seen his face.

While recuperating in the hospital, she had stayed for days longer, hoping that she might see him again; that he would come back—preferably without a mask—so she could offer her deepest gratitude. But he never appeared.

After a week, she had left the hospital, not to return home, but to the hideout. She had been stunned to find it completely deserted, every corner void of life, with not a soul in sight.

Panic had erupted within her, a frantic rush compelling her to run to her former cell, praying that nothing had happened to Scarlet’s body.

In the cell, she had steeled herself against the stench that emanated from where her friend lay. She had bent down crying, and gently pushed the body into a long nylon bag.

Balancing the heavy bag on her shoulders, Athena had groaned with the effort as she left the cell behind. She had buried Scarlet in a large expanse of land, under a sky that felt burdened with grief, and although there had been no witnesses, wildflowers dotted the earth around her.

It was there that she had also swore revenge—a promise she had made deep within her heart.

It was the reason she didn’t want to kill Morgan outright; she longed to tortur him herself, to hear his painful screams, to see him suffer as they had. It wouldn’t resurrect Scarlet, nor would it offer any true restitution for her own trauma, but she craved it, badly.

When she had finally returned to the city, Aiden had hammered her with questions. Instead of answering him, she had locked herself in a room, desperate to escape the flood of inquiries that would only remind her of the horrors she had faced.

Eventually, she had returned to her children, but they had greeted her with the silent treatment. She had waited patiently until they finally opened up to her again, her tongue still too heavy to explain her absence—that she had almost been murdered, that she had lost her close friend.

Scarlet’s death became known later, of course, but she had never been able to bring herself to share the details of their shared experiences.

Now, Gianna was asking her for details, and Athena, tears streaming down her face anew, shook her head. “I can’t. It’s too gut-wrenching. I don’t think I can.”

Seeing the anguish etched into Athena’s features, Gianna felt as if her own heart were about to shatter. She yearned to make her friend smile, to alleviate the pain that clung to her tightly. Yet, she had no idea how to do that.

So, she did the only thing she could: she hugged Athena close, rocking her gently from side to side, whispering soft promises that everything would be fine, that she would be there for her no matter what.

But then, moments later, Athena exhaled harshly, her hands trembling. “I want to tell you about it.”