Dead Wife? Guess Who's Back & Boss Now, Hubby! - Chapter 17: Chapter 17
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Those familiar features hit Adrian like a physical blow!
He couldn't breathe.
"Charlotte..." his voice cracked, "I finally found you..."
"Mr. Blackwell," she cut him off, her tone distant, "my name is Magna. This 'Charlotte' you're talking about—I don't know her."
With that, she gave a graceful nod. "The painting is finished. I'll be going now."
Then she turned and walked away, completely ignoring Adrian's shocked stare.
In the penthouse suite.
She stood at the window, her fingers ice cold.
When she'd left, she felt his burning stare following her every move.
The glass reflected her face perfectly.
She sighed.
She was Magna, but also Charlotte. Memories of the fire three years ago hit her hard.
Thick smoke. Scorching heat.
She'd dragged her broken legs through the smoke, choking and dizzy, curled in a corner waiting to die.
Right before the flames got her, a shadow crashed through the window!
"Relax! Come with me!" a rough voice ordered.
She was wrapped in a fire blanket and lifted by strong arms, carried straight out of hell.
Before she blacked out, she saw the man's sharp jaw and those fierce wolf eyes.
When she woke up, she was in a bare-bones safe house.
The guy who saved her called himself "Mack," some mercenary who worked off the grid.
"Why save me?" she rasped.
Mack cleaned his knife without looking up. "Three years ago, you gave a starving homeless guy a sandwich, water, and two hundred bucks at that highway exit. That was me."
Charlotte froze as the memory clicked.
It had been pouring that day. She'd been upset, driving around, and stopped on that road.
"That's worth a fire rescue?" she couldn't believe it.
"A life for a life. I don't like owing." Mack's voice was flat.
"I put a burned body in there—homeless guy, your size. Fixed the DNA stuff so they wouldn't catch on quick."
"Charlotte Pierce is legally dead." He handed her water like it was nothing.
Charlotte took the water, stunned.
After a minute, she whispered, "Thanks."
And just like that, Charlotte lived on with a new identity—Magna.
After recovering, she decided to pull herself together and do something with this chance.
With this second life and freedom from that monster Preston, she wasn't going to waste it.
She endured countless surgeries and brutal rehab until she could finally walk again.
During recovery, she used knowledge from her past life to approach James Peterson, the oldest son.
Her first move? Making sure Preston missed his chance to help Maxwell Peterson, keeping him locked out of the inner Peterson circle.
That play made her James Peterson's secret advisor.
She appeared as Magna the artist to Adrian now because the Peterson succession war was heating up.
James needed her to distract Adrian.
The tech mogul held crucial Peterson shares but hadn't picked a side yet—making him a key piece in their game.
A knock at the door. Quinn rushed in, excited.
"Ms. Magna, the honey trap worked! Blackwell reacted even better than we hoped! Keep him busy—he can't find out about Mr. Peterson's money moves down here!"
Charlotte nodded coolly. "Got it."
After Quinn left, the room fell silent.
Outside, thunder crashed and rain poured down.
After three years, Adrian had changed—that warm quality gone, replaced by something more intense.
"Adrian, will you come?" she whispered.
In another executive suite at the hotel.
After his assistant's report, Adrian's face remained calm. "So these Peterson subsidiaries in South City have completely clean books?"
The assistant looked down. "Yes, spotless on the surface."
Adrian's brow furrowed. "South City's far from headquarters. Normal we can't find issues right away."
The assistant looked uncomfortable. "But I did find something on Ms. Magna."
Adrian's breath caught, then steadied.
"Go on."
The assistant hesitated. "Her background's clean. Local orphan, grew up on charity foundation money, hit the art scene a year ago. And... she's close with Quinn."
His voice dropped lower. "Quinn went to her room tonight."
The air went arctic cold.
SNAP—Adrian's steel pen broke in half.
The woman he'd searched for three years was someone else's mistress?
Jealousy hit him like a tidal wave.
He jumped up, grabbed his jacket, and stormed into the executive elevator without a word.
Outside the windows, South City sat wrapped in misty rain.
Charlotte lounged on the sofa in a silk robe, flipping through an art book.
Someone pounded on her door.
Each knock harder than the last, loaded with anger.
Charlotte stood up and walked slowly to the door, a satisfied smile playing on her lips.
The fish had taken the bait.
He couldn't breathe.
"Charlotte..." his voice cracked, "I finally found you..."
"Mr. Blackwell," she cut him off, her tone distant, "my name is Magna. This 'Charlotte' you're talking about—I don't know her."
With that, she gave a graceful nod. "The painting is finished. I'll be going now."
Then she turned and walked away, completely ignoring Adrian's shocked stare.
In the penthouse suite.
She stood at the window, her fingers ice cold.
When she'd left, she felt his burning stare following her every move.
The glass reflected her face perfectly.
She sighed.
She was Magna, but also Charlotte. Memories of the fire three years ago hit her hard.
Thick smoke. Scorching heat.
She'd dragged her broken legs through the smoke, choking and dizzy, curled in a corner waiting to die.
Right before the flames got her, a shadow crashed through the window!
"Relax! Come with me!" a rough voice ordered.
She was wrapped in a fire blanket and lifted by strong arms, carried straight out of hell.
Before she blacked out, she saw the man's sharp jaw and those fierce wolf eyes.
When she woke up, she was in a bare-bones safe house.
The guy who saved her called himself "Mack," some mercenary who worked off the grid.
"Why save me?" she rasped.
Mack cleaned his knife without looking up. "Three years ago, you gave a starving homeless guy a sandwich, water, and two hundred bucks at that highway exit. That was me."
Charlotte froze as the memory clicked.
It had been pouring that day. She'd been upset, driving around, and stopped on that road.
"That's worth a fire rescue?" she couldn't believe it.
"A life for a life. I don't like owing." Mack's voice was flat.
"I put a burned body in there—homeless guy, your size. Fixed the DNA stuff so they wouldn't catch on quick."
"Charlotte Pierce is legally dead." He handed her water like it was nothing.
Charlotte took the water, stunned.
After a minute, she whispered, "Thanks."
And just like that, Charlotte lived on with a new identity—Magna.
After recovering, she decided to pull herself together and do something with this chance.
With this second life and freedom from that monster Preston, she wasn't going to waste it.
She endured countless surgeries and brutal rehab until she could finally walk again.
During recovery, she used knowledge from her past life to approach James Peterson, the oldest son.
Her first move? Making sure Preston missed his chance to help Maxwell Peterson, keeping him locked out of the inner Peterson circle.
That play made her James Peterson's secret advisor.
She appeared as Magna the artist to Adrian now because the Peterson succession war was heating up.
James needed her to distract Adrian.
The tech mogul held crucial Peterson shares but hadn't picked a side yet—making him a key piece in their game.
A knock at the door. Quinn rushed in, excited.
"Ms. Magna, the honey trap worked! Blackwell reacted even better than we hoped! Keep him busy—he can't find out about Mr. Peterson's money moves down here!"
Charlotte nodded coolly. "Got it."
After Quinn left, the room fell silent.
Outside, thunder crashed and rain poured down.
After three years, Adrian had changed—that warm quality gone, replaced by something more intense.
"Adrian, will you come?" she whispered.
In another executive suite at the hotel.
After his assistant's report, Adrian's face remained calm. "So these Peterson subsidiaries in South City have completely clean books?"
The assistant looked down. "Yes, spotless on the surface."
Adrian's brow furrowed. "South City's far from headquarters. Normal we can't find issues right away."
The assistant looked uncomfortable. "But I did find something on Ms. Magna."
Adrian's breath caught, then steadied.
"Go on."
The assistant hesitated. "Her background's clean. Local orphan, grew up on charity foundation money, hit the art scene a year ago. And... she's close with Quinn."
His voice dropped lower. "Quinn went to her room tonight."
The air went arctic cold.
SNAP—Adrian's steel pen broke in half.
The woman he'd searched for three years was someone else's mistress?
Jealousy hit him like a tidal wave.
He jumped up, grabbed his jacket, and stormed into the executive elevator without a word.
Outside the windows, South City sat wrapped in misty rain.
Charlotte lounged on the sofa in a silk robe, flipping through an art book.
Someone pounded on her door.
Each knock harder than the last, loaded with anger.
Charlotte stood up and walked slowly to the door, a satisfied smile playing on her lips.
The fish had taken the bait.
End of Dead Wife? Guess Who's Back & Boss Now, Hubby! Chapter 17. Continue reading Chapter 18 or return to Dead Wife? Guess Who's Back & Boss Now, Hubby! book page.