My Bratty Wife
Chapter 84 - Eighty Four

Chapter 84: Chapter Eighty Four

Ryan paced back and forth in his study, his mind racing. He had been avoiding his thoughts about Suzy, but they kept creeping back, insistent and demanding attention.

"I think I’m in love again," he confessed to Byron, his voice barely a whisper.

Byron, seated comfortably in an armchair, raised an eyebrow. "Didn’t I tell you that you would be the one to fall first?" he teased.

Ryan ignored his brother’s teasing. "I never thought it would be her," he admitted, a sense of disbelief in his voice. "She’s everything I’ve ever despised in a woman. She’s strong headed, messy, rebellious even sharp tongued, yet I find myself drawn to her."

Byron smiled. "Welcome to the club, brother," he said. "Love has a funny way of catching us off guard. Now it made you look and act more human," he continued. "Since Eleanor’s betrayal, you’ve turned into a cold, aloof version of yourself. I’m glad you’ve finally opened your heart to someone else."

Ryan nodded, lost in thought. "She makes me act like a child," he confessed, a hint of frustration in his voice. "I can’t think straight sometimes. I can’t seem to resist the urge to touch her, to hold her close. It’s like I’m possessed."

Byron chuckled. "It sounds like you’ve got it bad," he teased.

Ryan ignored his brother’s teasing. "I know we’re married, and it’s natural to feel attracted to your spouse," he said, his voice filled with a sense of confusion in a low whisper. "But why do I feel like it’s a sin to imagine her underneath me, to hear her soft moans?"

"Brother!!!" Byron shouted as he stared at him .

Ryan ignored his brother’s stare, his mind focused on something else. "Do you think she feels the same way?" he asked, his voice filled with uncertainty.

Before Byron could respond, the door burst open, revealing Thorne, his face pale, his eyes filled with dread and his hair disheveled. "The reason for our journey is futile," he said, his voice barely a whisper.

Ryan’s heart sank. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice filled with apprehension.

Thorne took a deep breath. "The suspect is dead," he said, his voice trembling.

Ryan’s heart sank. "What do you mean, dead?" he asked, his voice filled with disbelief.

Thorne took a deep breath. "The protection detail I sent to watch her reported that no one entered or left the house without their knowledge. They found her dead in her bedroom this morning."

A cold silence fell over the room. The news was a shock, a blow to their plans. Ryan felt a wave of sadness wash over him. He had barely known the woman, but her death still affected him.

"How did it happen?" he asked, his voice filled with determination.

Thorne shook his head. "We don’t know yet," he replied. "But one thing is certain, this is going to be a difficult case."

Ryan turned to Byron, his face etched with determination. "I have to go," he said, his voice barely a whisper.

Byron nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "Be careful," he said, his voice filled with concern.

Ryan nodded, his gaze fixed on the door. He turned to Davis, who was standing by the door, and instructed him to prepare the carriage.

As they stepped outside, the cool night air hit them in the face. Ryan took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind. The death of the suspect was a major setback, but it also presented a new challenge.

They climbed into the carriage, the leather seats providing a momentary respite from the chaos of the world outside. Ryan leaned back, his eyes closed, trying to make sense of the situation.

Thorne, sitting beside him, was silent, his mind focused on the task at hand. He knew that they were in for a long and dangerous journey, but he was ready for whatever comes their way.

The carriage began to move, the rhythmic clip-clop of the horses’ hooves providing a soothing background noise. As they rode through the quiet streets, Ryan couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched. He glanced out the window, but there was no sign of anyone following them.

He turned to Thorne. "Do you think they’re expecting us?" he asked, his voice low.

Thorne shrugged. "It’s possible," he replied. "We need to be careful."

Ryan nodded, his mind racing. He knew that they were in danger, but he was determined to find out who was behind the murders. He had a feeling that the answers they were looking for were closer than they thought.

—————————

As the carriage pulled up to the house, a sense of foreboding washed over Ryan. Something was wrong. He could feel it in the pit of his stomach.

As they stepped out of the carriage, they were met by the head of the protection team, a burly man with a serious expression. "Your Grace," he said, his voice filled with respect as he stepped forward.

Ryan nodded, his gaze scanning the area. There was an unnatural quiet, a stillness that was unsettling. His gaze shifted to the house. It was dark, the only light coming from the hallway.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice low and demanding. "Give me a report."

The guard hesitated, his expression grim. "We’ve been standing guard over this house, Your Grace," he began, his voice filled with regret. "No one has entered or left the premises and she has been in the room since she came here."

A cold dread settled over Ryan. Something was terribly wrong.

"Continue," he said, his voice barely a whisper.

"I went inside to inform the occupant of your arrival," the guard continued, his voice filled with a sense of sorrow. "Only to find her dead in her bedroom."

A cold silence fell over the group. Ryan felt a surge of anger and sadness. Another victim, another life cut short.

"Take me to her," he said, his voice barely a whisper.

Thorne nodded, his face etched with determination. Together, they entered the house, their footsteps echoing in the silent hallway.

The bedroom door was ajar, revealing a scene of desolation. The woman lay motionless on the bed, her skin pale and lifeless. A sense of dread washed over Ryan as he stepped into the room.

He moved closer to the bed, his gaze fixed on the woman’s face. There were no signs of struggle, no visible wounds. A single tear rolled down her cheek, a silent testament to the terror she must have experienced in her final moments. It was as if she had simply fallen asleep and never woken up.

Thorne began his examination, his movements methodical and precise. Ryan watched as he knelt beside the bed, his hands gently probing the woman’s body.

"There are no signs of forced entry," Thorne said, his voice low. "And there are no obvious signs of trauma."

Ryan nodded, his mind racing. If there were no signs of forced entry, then the killer must have had access to the house. Someone who knew the layout, someone who could come and go without being noticed.

A chilling realization hit him. The killer was someone close to the victim, someone she trusted. And that meant that anyone could be a suspect.

Thorne nodded, his face set in determination. He turned to the guard. "Secure the scene," he ordered, his voice firm. "No one is to enter or leave this room until I give the order."

The guard nodded, his face etched with grim determination. As he left the room, Ryan and Thorne were left alone with the body.

Ryan turned towards the bed, his gaze fixed on the dead woman. "Who is she?" he asked Thorne, his voice filled with a sense of foreboding.

Thorne hesitated for a moment, then replied, "She’s the one who killed Lord Collin. She’s the Ashton’s family’s cook. She has been in hiding after that incident, trying to avoid being killed by her employer."

Ryan’s mind raced. So, this was the woman they had been hunting all this time. The woman who had brought chaos and destruction into the Ashton family.

"She wanted to confess," Thorne continued, his voice low. "She was scared, said they would kill her if she exposed them. She wanted protection before she could give us information."

A wave of sadness washed over Ryan. The woman had been living in fear, her life a constant battle for survival. And in the end, she had paid the ultimate price.

"They finally got to her," he said, his voice filled with anger. The woman on the bed was just a victim like Luke; A pawn in their games. These people were monsters, without conscience or mercy. They had manipulated this woman, used her, and then discarded her like trash.

He looked at the woman’s face, her skin pale and lifeless. She looked almost peaceful, as if she was finally at rest. But Ryan knew that her death was anything but peaceful. It was a silenced murder.