Married To My Ex's Brother, Reborn Miraculously-Chapter 190: Do you know this girl?

When Patricia finally left the hospital room, Nathan stepped inside, the door closing behind him softly. He found Paule lying on the bed, his eyes shut.

Paule didn’t stir. He seemed to be asleep.

"Mr. Paule Clair," Nathan said gently, moving closer to the bedside.

Paule fluttered his eyes open and found a tall figure looming over him. With effort, he pushed himself up slightly. Nathan stepped forward quickly and slipped a pillow behind his back, helping him sit more comfortably.

Paule’s mouth parted, as if to ask who he was, but the words stumbled somewhere between thought and voice. All he did was stare at him curiously.

"I’m Nathan. I’m here to talk about your adopted daughter, Anne."

At the sound of her name, a visible shudder passed through Paule. His chest tightened. His lips trembled as he forced out, "What... do... you... want?" The words were barely audible, blurred by weakness.

Nathan didn’t answer. Instead, he reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and held it up. The screen lit with a photo of a little girl, bright-eyed.

"Do you know this girl?" he asked with hope. "Is she the one you took in all those years ago?"

Paule narrowed his eyes, trying to focus on the image. His fingers reached out slowly, brushing the phone before taking it in his trembling hand. His brows drew together as he looked back up at Nathan.

There was a question in his eyes. ’Why do you have this? Who are you to her?’

"Is she the girl you adopted back then?" Nathan repeated, the tension in his voice growing. He zoomed in on the photo to show him the jade pendant around her neck. "Take a closer look. Have you seen this pendant?" His heart pounded as he awaited the answer.

A flicker of alarm crossed Paule’s face as he stared at the man standing over him. Something about his sudden appearance, his interest in Anne, unsettled him deeply. Fear tightened in his chest.

His thoughts slipped back in time, to the day he first saw Anne, frightened, curled up on the edge of a dusty roadside, crying in hunger and fear.

He had taken her in that day, unable to turn his back on a child. He had even reported her to the police, hoping that someone—anyone—might come to look for her. But no one did. No one ever came.

It was clear she had been discarded by her family, which no longer wanted her.

He had given her a home, raised her as his own.

Now, after more than twenty years, someone had finally come asking for her. But why now? What did he want from her?

The questions surged through Paule like a storm.

He abruptly shoved the phone back into Nathan’s hand, his face hardening with distrust. He lay down as he turned away and waved dismissively, dragging the thin blanket up to his chest. It was clear he wanted Nathan to leave.

But Nathan didn’t budge. He held out the phone closer to Paule’s face.

"Please, Mr. Clair," he said desperately. "Help me. Look carefully at this photo. This girl is my sister, my biological sister. I have been searching for her for years."

Paule narrowed his eyes at the young man, suspicion carving deep lines into his face.

’His sister?’ The words echoed bitterly in his mind.

If she truly meant so much to him, where had he been all those years ago? Where were the parents at the time? How could they have abandoned a three-year-old alone, like she never mattered?

The urge to shout, to confront him, to throw those angry questions in his face, surged inside Paule, but he bit it back. His lips pressed into a thin, angry line. He said nothing.

Nathan wasn’t deterred. "My mother has been suffering from depression ever since she lost her," he added. "Her condition is getting worse. She cries every night, blaming herself. I can’t keep watching her fall apart. If Anne is my sister, I need to bring her home. Please... help me."

He looked at Paule with hope, waiting, praying for a glimmer of confirmation.

Paule shifted restlessly in the bed. After much struggle, his lips parted, and he spoke.

"I just woke up. I don’t... remember many things. Please... leave."

It wasn’t the answer Nathan had hoped for, but Paule’s tone left no room for argument. Nathan sighed, shoulders slumping with quiet disappointment. He knew he couldn’t push further at this moment.

Reaching into his wallet, he pulled out a business card and placed it gently on the bedside table.

"If you remember anything," he said softly, "please contact me. Even the smallest detail might help."

With a lingering glance at the frail man, Nathan turned and walked out reluctantly.

Paule watched the door close behind Nathan, his frown deepening as conflicting emotions warred within him.

There had been something in Nathan’s eyes. That man seemed honest and desperate, and Paule couldn’t ignore him. The grief he carried in his voice, the way he had spoken about his mother—it all felt genuine. For a moment, Paule thought that Nathan had been telling the truth.

But he was still cautious. Trust didn’t come easily, not when it involved Anne.

She had been through enough. Life had never been kind to her, but finally she had found peace with her husband, and the two of them were going on their honeymoon.

Paule couldn’t bring himself to shatter that peace with uncertain news. What if Nathan was lying? What if this stirred up more pain than answers?

He exhaled a shaky breath and glanced at the business card lying on the table. ’I’ll talk to her once she comes back,’ he thought.

Until then, Paule would wait.

~~~~~~~~~~~

When Augustine stepped into the house, a hushed stillness greeted him. The lights were low. The atmosphere felt almost too quiet—eerily calm. A faint crease formed on his brow.

"Didn’t she leave the office a couple of hours ago?" he murmured, puzzled. "Where could she be?"

A knot of concern tightened in his chest. Reaching for his phone, he was just about to call the guard when a gentle, alluring voice drifted through the silence.

"You are back," Anne’s silky voice brushed against skin.

His eyes shot up, and he saw her descending the stairs with effortless grace. The satin nightwear she wore clung to her figure, outlining her curves in the most tantalizing way.

Augustine’s hand slowly lowered, forgotten, as his gaze locked onto her.

Under the soft glow, Anne’s fair skin looked radiant, and the smile on her lips only added to the enchantment. She was breathtaking—ethereal.

"I drew an aroma bath for you," she said softly, coming to a stop in front of him. "I figured you might need something to ease your stress."

Before he could respond, she reached up and slid his jacket from his shoulders with slow, fluid movements.

"Aroma bath?" he repeated, momentarily dazed.

"Yes," she murmured, her tone sultry and tender. "You have been working nonstop, and I want you to unwind tonight. Let me take care of you."