Investing In My Crippled Wife Every Return Makes Me Stronger Chapter 186

To continue serving our readers, I have removed Korean novels due to copyright issues.

Thank you for your continued support. I’m still working hard to bring you more great novels and the best reading experience possible.

[ … words ]

“Ah, sorry for the mess,” Soren said quickly, breaking the silence as he waved his hand.

With a brief flash of light, the mountain of items vanished from the table, cleanly swept away into his storage ring. Once the surface was clear, he gestured toward the nearby chairs. “Please, have a seat.”

Ryan and Seria both nodded, their initial surprise melting back into faint smiles. They didn’t ask any questions and just moved forward, placing the small bags and fresh flowers they had brought with them onto the empty table before pulling up the chairs.

“How are you holding up, Mr. Soren?” Seria asked, her eyes searching his face with genuine concern. “And how is Ms. Ethea doing?”

“We were worried after hearing what happened to you,” Ryan added, leaning forward slightly.

Soren offered them a reassuring nod, feeling a genuine touch of gratitude for their presence after the exhausting mental battle with his father-in-law. “Thank you both for worrying. I’m completely fine now. As for Ethea, the doctors said she is mentally exhausted and just needs some rest, so she should wake up before long.”

He paused, shifting the focus away from the hospital bed. “What about you two, though? Were you alright during the chaos? And your families?”

“We were at the academy when everything went down, so the campus security kept us clear of the danger,” Ryan answered. “As for my family, they were close to the evacuation shelters, so they survived without any trouble.”

“Mine is fine too,” Seria added, nodding gently. “The worst of the incident didn’t reach our area, so everyone is safe.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Soren said, smiling. “Then…”

They carried on with some small talk for a while longer, keeping the conversation brief so as not to disturb Ethea. Before long, Ryan and Seria stood up, deciding it was time to take their leave.

“We should head out now,” Seria said, offering a polite nod. “Take care of yourself, Mr. Soren.”

“Yeah, don’t push yourself too hard, Brother Soren,” Ryan added, rising from his chair as well.

Soren stood up to see them to the door. “Thanks for coming by.” He looked at Ryan and nodded. “Right, Ryan, let’s meet up tomorrow. We have some things to catch up on.”

“…You got it,” Ryan replied after a brief pause.

The two of them stepped out, and the door clicked shut, leaving Soren alone with Ethea once again.

Soren stayed where he was for a while, waiting to see if his father-in-law would suddenly come back again. As the minutes stretched on, he found himself re-evaluating the strange inconsistencies that had bothered him since his marriage.

’The breadcrumbs have been there since the beginning.’

He realized that his father-in-law was the hidden wall preventing his information from reaching his former family. If that were true, it solved another major puzzle; the man was probably the hidden hand behind the police dropping the wedding day investigation so easily, sweeping a literal assassination attempt under the rug as a mere burglary.

Soren even began to suspect that the anonymous warning call he had received back then was orchestrated by the man as well.

’He wanted me to stay ordinary,’ Soren realized, the pieces falling into place. ’Or at the very least, keep a low profile.’

He stood rooted to the spot, staring blankly at the closed door. The explanation felt complete. It was neat, logical, and wrapped everything up into a tidy package.

Yet, a persistent friction lingered in the back of his mind.

’No, I’m still missing something…’

Soren squinted, his gaze drifting aimlessly across the room as he retraced every word, every move, and every unreadable look Darius had given him.

’Think…’

’Think…’

’Thi-!’

Suddenly, his eyes widened.

An almost absurd yet strangely plausible idea popped into his mind, striking him with the force of a physical blow.

’Don’t tell me… the assassin was also sent by him?’

A sudden chill settled over him as his mind raced at an accelerated rate, piece after piece of the puzzle locking together with terrifying precision.

If Darius sent the assassin himself, that would explain everything perfectly. That was why he made the police drop the matter instantly. That was why he wasn’t willing to tell Soren why the assassination had happened earlier, choosing instead to hide behind the vague threat of ’dangerous enemies.’ It was a fabrication designed to entirely misdirect Soren’s suspicions.

’But why?’ Soren’s hands clenched into tight fists. ’Why would a father do that? Why would he want to kill Ethea?’

Was it a twisted form of mercy? Did he want to put an end to her pain, or perhaps he knew she carried a curse and thought death was the only escape left for her after failing to break it?

Soren shook his head tightly.

Even if that madness were true, it left one massive, glaring question mark. What did any of that have to do with him? He was just an ordinary man dragged out of obscurity. Why involve a nobody in something like that?

’Wait… ordinary?!’

Soren froze. Another wild guess formed in his mind, so dark it made his breath hitch.

’T-That’s it!’

If Darius really wanted to get rid of his own daughter, he couldn’t just do it openly. A 7th-Circle powerhouse murdering his own child would destroy his reputation, his alliances, and invite total ruin both to himself and his family, so he needed a shield, a scapegoat to take the whole brunt of the blame. And…

’I was the perfect candidate.’

He had no power; his own family despised him enough to gladly get rid of him, and he completely lacked the connections to fight back or support him.

With those factors combined, the trap was flawless.

They could easily frame him as the culprit by orchestrating dozens of plausible scenarios. They could kill Ethea, press the bloody blade directly into his unconscious hands, force a lethal poison down his throat, or entirely rewrite his memories to make him believe his own guilt. By the time the dust settled, the authorities would simply point to him as the madman responsible and close the case forever.

It was a foolproof way to eliminate them both.