The Officer's Runaway Wife and Secret Son novel Chapter 342

She had gotten wasted at a bar, trying to force Rhys to show up. But Rhys never came. It was Owen who took her home.

There were no 'thugs,' no 'being dragged into a private room and assaulted.'

There was only Owen.

When she woke up the next morning, Owen was sitting beside her, smoking a cigarette and smiling at her.

She had considered calling the police, but Owen had a video on his phone of her drunkenly throwing herself into his arms.

Later, she saw an opportunity and flipped the script, threatening him with Eric Johnson's resources and connections.

Since things were already a mess, she might as well use it to her advantage.

She deliberately disheveled her clothes, covered herself in marks, and went back to the bar to be 'found.' Then she cried to Rhys, blaming him for not being there to pick her up.

She was vague, only mentioning a group of men whose faces she couldn't see.

Rhys checked the security footage, but Owen had already had it wiped clean.

When Rhys tried to dig deeper, Eric stepped in.

He couldn't afford the scandal. The moment his daughter showed the slightest emotional instability, he wanted to ship her off to a psychiatric hospital and be done with it.

One man was trying to forcibly bury the incident, while the other was being begged daily not to investigate.

Pressured from both sides, Rhys had no choice but to send her abroad himself for 'treatment,' telling everyone that Mr. Johnson's daughter had gone overseas for further studies.

And so, all the hatred, all the guilt, all the sin, landed squarely on the shoulders of that poor fool, Rhys.

And Owen became the only other person who knew the truth.

"Let go of me!"

Margot struggled, but Owen's grip was strong. He pulled her into his arms, his hand sliding familiarly up the waistline of her robe.

"If it weren't for me back then, you could've been gang-raped by those thugs for real, and it would have been for nothing. Without me helping you sell that lie, do you think you'd have him wrapped around your finger so tightly?"

"Get out," Margot pointed to the door, her voice trembling. "I'm not in the mood today. Just get out."

Owen glanced at her pale face and the fine sheen of cold sweat on her forehead, and his interest waned.

There was always tomorrow.

He stood up and walked to the door, then paused. "By the way, what exactly did you say to Clara?"

"...Everything but you," Margot said. "I told her Rhys hung up my call because he wanted to be with her."

Owen froze for a second, then burst into laughter.

"So you basically told Clara her happiness was bought with your 'innocence,' didn't you?"

Margot stared at the ceiling. "She can think whatever she wants."

"As long as those two are miserable, I'm happy."