One Night Stand, Eight Surprises: Pampered by My CEO Husband --- - Chapter 75: Chapter 75

The air in the Santorini villa was sharp with salt and silence.
Arielle stood on the balcony, overlooking the Aegean Sea, her fingers tightly clutching the edge of the railing as dawn began its slow stretch across the water. The waves glittered with an innocence that mocked the chaos inside her.
Étienne had gone to meet an informant—someone who claimed to have seen Damien being transferred near the island's eastern docks.
But Arielle was no longer waiting passively.
Her phone pinged. A message from the front desk.
Package received. Delivered to your door. No return address.
She frowned.
Every hair on her arms stood.
She turned, heart pounding, and opened the villa’s door.
There it was.
A small, white box.
Wrapped in matte black ribbon.
No tag.
No name.
No sound in the hallway.
She carried it inside slowly, gently—as though it might explode.
When she opened it, her breath caught in her throat.
Damien’s watch.
The one he wore every day.
Scratched. Cracked. Stained with what looked like blood on the leather band.
And underneath it, a single folded note.
Scrawled in jagged script:
"You took everything from me. Now I take him."
No name.
But she knew who it was.
The man she and Damien had buried long ago.
Lucien Varga.
A former investor turned threat.
Once Damien’s closest friend. Now a ghost from the past they had both sworn never to speak of again.
He had disappeared after being exposed for laundering company money and trying to pin it on Damien.
The last they heard, Lucien fled to Eastern Europe with a forged passport.
Damien had grieved the betrayal. Arielle had feared the silence.
Now it had returned. Wearing a smile in ink.
Étienne returned to find her still gripping the note, her knuckles white.
He read it, silent for a long time. Then cursed under his breath.
“I should’ve killed him,” he muttered.
“You knew he was alive?”
“I suspected. But nothing concrete.”
Arielle set the watch down. “Then we need to go where the concrete is.”
Étienne raised a brow.
“Lucien has a sister in Thessaloniki. Ex-model. Married a shipping tycoon. If he’s resurfaced, she’ll know.”
Étienne stared at her. “You’ve been preparing for this.”
“No,” she said, voice like steel. “But I haven’t forgotten.”
Hours later, they boarded a small charter plane north.
In the air, Étienne laid out maps again.
“Lucien doesn’t do random. If he sent the watch, it means he wants you afraid.”
“He failed,” Arielle said. “I’m not afraid. I’m furious.”
That night, they arrived in Thessaloniki. The streets were busy with music and light, but inside the lavish penthouse they visited, the air was cold.
Lucien’s sister, Helena, looked startled to see Arielle.
She poured two glasses of wine, her hands not quite steady.
“I haven’t heard from him in years,” she claimed. “Not since the arrest warrant.”
Arielle slid the watch across the table.
Helena’s expression shattered.
“He’s here, isn’t he?” Arielle asked.
Tears welled up in the woman’s eyes. “I told him to stop. He said you destroyed him. That Damien ruined everything.”
Étienne leaned in. “Where is he?”
Helena hesitated, then whispered, “He’s hiding in an old monastery outside Kavala. Guarded. Obsessed. He’s... not right anymore.”
Arielle stood, every heartbeat screaming for vengeance.
“Then that’s where we go next.”