The Abandoned Wife's Second Chance (Scarlett and Jasper) novel Chapter 159

Chapter 159

(Dorian’s POV)

Morgan.

The name sits on my tongue like poison.

Morgan.

+25 Points

I stare at the file in my hands, reading the same paragraph for the third time. My private investigator doesn’t make mistakes. If he says Morgan’s connected to this, then Morgan’s connected to this.

The question is how.

And who the hell is this Morgan?

I close the file and lean back in my office chair, rubbing my temples. It’s been four days since

I last spoke to Jasper. Four days of watching Scarlett through security footage, making sure she’s safe. Four days of forcing myself not to think of the image of her kissing her ex.

Four days…

My phone buzzes. A text from my lead security guy: “Target leaving hospital. En route to apartment.”

Good. Scarlett’s going home. That means I have time to talk to Blake without her walking in

on us.

I grab my jacket and the file, heading for the door. My assistant looks up as I pass.

“Cancel my afternoon meetings.”

“All of them?”

“All of them.”

The drive to the hospital takes twenty minutes.

I park across from the building and take the elevator to the fourth floor, the file burning a hole under my arm.

I hate this. Hate having to work with him.

But Scarlett’s safety requires putting aside my pride.

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Blake’s room is at the end of the hall. The door’s cracked open. I’m about to knock when I

hear his voice.

“Yeah, I know. Just keep digging.”

He’s on the phone. I should wait outside, give him privacy.

Instead, I push the door open.

He looks up, startled, phone still pressed to his ear. When he sees it’s only me, relief flickers across his face.

I’ll call you back.” He ends the call, setting the phone on the nightstand. “Dorian.”

“Blake.” I close the door behind me.

Scarlett’s not here.”

“I know. I’m here to see you.”

His eyebrows raise. “Twice in one week. People might start to think we’re friends.”

“We’re not.” I cross to the chair by the window, tossing the file on his bed. “But we both want the same thing right now.”

He picks up the file, flipping it open. His expression doesn’t change as he reads, but I see his jaw tighten.

“Morgan,” he says finally.

“Yeah.”

“How sure are you?”

“My guy’s seventy percent certain. The SUV that hit you was registered to a shell company. Took some digging, but the paper trail leads back to Morgan.”

Blake closes the file, his hands white–knuckled against the manila folder. “Why would Morgan want Scarlett dead?”

“From your words, it sounds like you know her?”

“Know?” Disgust flickers across his face. “I don’t know her.”

“Sure you don’t.” I sneer. “When Scarlett drops dead, maybe you’ll remember who she is then?

His face turns dark, the frost in his eyes so cold, I almost feel the chill down to my bones.

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I lean forward, elbows on my knees. “Tell me, Blake. Who is this Morgan and what does she

want with Scarlett?”

Jasper sighs. “I don’t know much about her. In my childhood, before my mother’s death, I remember a woman named Morgan coming to our door looking for my father. But he was never around, so it turned into a cycle. It’s not until much later that I found out she was my father’s mistress.” He takes a deep breath, the memory obviously still painful. “My mother died because of her.”

His mother died…because of his father’s mistress.

The revelation leaves me dazed, as memories of my own childhood resurface.

My mother, holding my father’s leg, begging him not to abandon us. My mother, crying in tears as a woman who called herself my father’s legal wife, called her names, shaming her in front of the neighbors.

And my father, so cold, so indifferent to her tears, walking right over her battered figure to lead his wife out of our wreckage of a house.

He never looked back. Never even stopped to spare me, scared and huddled in the corner, a backward glance.

Three years later, my mother overworked herself to death to secure my future.

“Six months ago, a woman named Morgan approached me with a business proposal.” Jasper continues, pulling me from the memories. “I didn’t like her name, and turned her down. Then she started bribing my people, trying to pull them to her side. But going after Scarlett? That’s a hell of an escalation.”

“Unless it’s not about business.”

Blake’s eyes snap to mine. “What do

you mean?”

“I mean maybe this isn’t about your company. Maybe it’s about your past. Or even Scarlett.”

“Scarlett doesn’t even know Morgan.”

“How sure are you?”

He opens his mouth to respond, then stops. I can see him thinking, running through possibilities. “She’s been gone the past four years. It’s not impossible for them to cross paths. Still, I feel this goes deeper than a chance encounter.

“My investigator’s looking into it. But in the meantime, we need to increase security. Double the team watching her.”

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“Already done.” Blake tosses the file back to me. “I’ve got three guys on her now. One at her apartment, two mobile.”

I frown. “I’ve got two on her.”

“So we’ve got five total. Good.”

“Five might not be enough if Morgan’s serious about this.”

“Then we get more.” Blake swings his legs over the side of the bed, ignoring the IV still attached to his arm. “However many it takes.”

“Sit down before you pull that thing out.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. You’re still recovering. I don’t want Scarlett to take care of you more than necessary.”

“Scarlett’s in danger. I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”

“That’s why I’m here.”

“So you can take the chance to impress her? No way in hell am I allowing that to happen!”

We stare at each other, the air crackling between us.

“You might be her ex, Blake. But don’t forget. I’m still her fiance.”

“We have history…”

“Whatever you had burned four years ago.” I stand, matching his energy. “You know you don’t deserve her forgiveness. But you’re selfish. You’re keeping her close because you can’t stand the thought of losing her again.”

Blake’s laugh is harsh, bitter. “Am I? Because last I checked, she still has feelings for me.”

The words hit exactly where he intended. Right in the gut.

“Not feelings. Guilt. She feels guilty you got hurt because of her.” The lie tastes bitter on my

tongue.

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