My Bratty Wife
Chapter 245 - Two Hundred And Forty Five

Chapter 245: Chapter Two Hundred And Forty Five

The name – Commander Thorne – struck Ryan with the force of a blow. All the relaxed peace of the sun-drenched picnic, the gentle comfort of Suzy’s presence, vanished in an instant, replaced by a jolt of urgency. He was on his feet immediately, his eyes, moments before were soft with affection as he gazed at his wife, now wide and sharp with a mixture of shock and intense anticipation.

"Thorne?" Ryan repeated, his voice incredulous. "He’s in Carleton? Where is he now, Davis? Did he come to the Castle? Is he here now?"

Davis, still slightly breathless from his search, shook his head. "I do not know his precise whereabouts, Your Grace. The message was... discreet. He sent a letter, delivered by a trusted but unnamed courier. It awaits you in your study. The courier departed immediately after handing it over, emphasizing Commander Thorne’s desire for utmost secrecy until he can speak with you directly."

A letter. Ryan’s mind raced. Thorne was cautious, and with good reason, given his last report of being hunted. He wouldn’t risk an open approach. The letter would contain instructions, a meeting point, perhaps.

He looked down at Suzy, who was now sitting up, her earlier peace replaced by a quiet understanding of the gravity of the news. The name ’Thorne’ was familiar to her; she knew how much Ryan had been relying on the investigator’s return. Her eyes, though still holding the softness of their recent tender moments, now also reflected a supportive resolve.

Ryan crouched down beside her on the blanket, taking her hands in his. His voice was gentle, but underscored by an undeniable urgency. "I’m so sorry, my love," he said, his gaze searching hers. "It seems duty calls, rather more abruptly than I anticipated." He leaned in and pressed a firm, loving kiss to her lips.

"Commander Thorne has arrived. I must go to the study immediately and see what his letter contains."

Suzy nodded, her fingers squeezing his reassuringly. "Of course, Ryan. Go. This is... this is what you’ve been waiting for."

There was no complaint, no hint of her earlier clinginess, only a quiet strength that he cherished. "Be careful," she added softly, her eyes filled with love and a silent prayer for his safety.

"Always," he promised, giving her hands one last squeeze before rising. He turned to Davis. "Let’s go. Quickly."

The two men strode rapidly away from the peaceful picnic spot, leaving Suzy under the shade of the old oak tree, the remnants of their peaceful interlude a contrast to the sudden tension that now filled the air. She watched them go, her heart gnawing with worry for her husband.

————————-

A small, satisfied smile played on Byron lips as he made a minute adjustment with a silver-nibbed pen. He adjusted the plan for the new arrival he procured for his business. Once the item reaches the black market, he won’t need to depend on the Blackwood wealth anymore.

The sudden, unceremonious bursting open of his study door shattered his concentration. Elias, his usually composed and silent aide, rushed into the room, his breathing slightly labored, his expression unusually agitated. This was a breach of protocol so severe that Byron’s initial reaction was one of cold, sharp annoyance.

"Elias!" Byron snapped, straightening up, his eyes like chips of ice. "What is the meaning of this intrusion? You know better than to enter without being announced, let alone to barge in like a common ruffian."

Elias, forgoing his usual deep bow, offered only a cursory nod, his urgency overriding his deference. "My deepest apologies, My Lord," he said quickly, his voice low but strained. "But the news is... significant. And time-sensitive. I felt you would want to know immediately." He paused, then delivered the words that instantly transformed Byron’s displeasure into a keen, predatory interest. "My Lord, Commander Thorne. He is in Carleton."

Byron stood up abruptly from his chair, the heavy oak scraping loudly against the polished floorboards, the sound jarring in the otherwise quiet room. The business plans, the carefully constructed procurement, were forgotten. Thorne. Here. Finally.

"Where is he, Elias?" Byron demanded, his voice a low, dangerous purr. "Where is he now? His exact location."

Elias shook his head, a flicker of frustration in his usually impassive eyes. "That, My Lord, is not yet known. My informant at the Duke’s household only intercepted the news of a letter’s arrival from him. The Duke himself is now in possession of it. Thorne’s actual whereabouts are being kept exceptionally quiet. He is clearly moving with extreme caution."

A muscle twitched in Byron’s jaw. Thorne’s caution was an irritant, but also a testament to the man’s skill, a skill Byron had grudgingly acknowledged before. "So, the little mouse has scurried back to his hole, hoping for protection from the Duke," Byron mused, more to himself than to Elias. He then fixed his aide with a steely gaze. "Find him, Elias. I don’t care what resources you need to deploy, what ears you need to buy. I want to know where Commander Thorne is breathing Carleton air. Make sure you do. I want him found before Ryan can adequately secure him, or worse, before Thorne can whisper all his little secrets into my brother’s eager ear."

"I will find out, My Lord," Elias affirmed, his composure returning now that his message was delivered. "I will begin inquiries at once." He offered a proper bow this time and then, as silently as he had often moved, he turned and left the study, closing the door softly behind him.

Byron stood alone in the center of the room for a long moment, the screech of his chair the only lingering sound of his surprise. Then, a slow, chilling smile spread across his face, a smile that did not reach his cold, calculating eyes. He walked to the edge of his large desk, his fingers gripping the polished mahogany until his knuckles were white.

"Finally, Thorne," he whispered to the empty room, his voice filled with a dark, triumphant anticipation. "You are here. After all your scurrying, all your clever evasions, you’ve delivered yourself right into the heart of the web."

He thought of the information Thorne undoubtedly possessed, the secrets the investigator had likely unearthed about the carefully orchestrated deaths, about the true benefactor behind so much chaos. Thorne was the most dangerous loose end, the one man capable of unraveling everything Byron had so meticulously built. His arrival was not just a threat; it was an opportunity. An opportunity to silence him, permanently, and in doing so, to secure his own future, his own ascent.

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