Ch. 80 – The Only One I Ever Called

Rhys stood frozen, genuine shock rippling through his chest. He had no idea Shula had known all along. Through all those years, through every hero gathering and double date, she had never uttered a single word to Darius.

He looked down at the dark mahogany figurine sitting in his palm. Then he looked back up at Shula. Her golden eyes held no deceit, no manipulation, no hidden malice—only pure, unadulterated love.

“It doesn’t matter,” the dark voice echoed in his mind, and Omen stepped into view within Rhys’s mental space. “She gave you the little cat idol willingly, which is all the same for our plan. It worked perfectly.”

And as much as Rhys hated to admit it, the alter-ego was right. Having the relic in hand was the absolute perfect setup for Rhys’s final killing blow.

Collecting himself, Rhys attempted to pivot, using the relic as ultimate leverage. "You can have it back," Rhys stated, forcing his voice to stay steady. "But only if you end all of this right now. We walk away from this affair, and we find a way to make this donor situation work without having sex."

Shula actually looked horrified. She flinched as if struck and took a sharp step backward. "I can't do that," she stammered, her voice trembling. "I would never do that."

Why won't she just give up? Rhys griped inwardly, frustration mounting like a pressure cooker.

Within his mind, Omen silently watched, a cold grin spreading across his shadowy face.

She won’t even fight for the relic that brought her and Darius together, Rhys thought furiously. But without realizing it, the words didn't stay internal. He uttered that last thought out loud, his tone completely dripping with bitter venom.

Omen had slipped into the driver's seat without Rhys even noticing.

Shula went entirely pale, looking as white as paper. Her golden eyes flickered with a sudden, heavy guilt. She stepped back in, leaning close as if carrying a terrible, painful secret she had buried for a decade.

"I knew it was you who truly got the relic for me all those years ago..." Shula confessed softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "And ever since then... my love for you has just been steadily growing. Unintentionally. Completely beyond my control."

Rhys’s mind raced, utterly confused about what was unfolding. He wanted to step back, wanted to cut her off, but he was completely immobilized. He wasn't just speechless—he physically couldn't control his own voice or body at the moment.

Shula pressed on, her eyes searching his. "When Darius and I were trying to have a child... I was actually trying to bury those feelings for you. I wanted to be a good wife. But then, when I couldn't conceive... I saw it as a sign. Proof that Darius and I were never meant to be."

Rhys remained frozen like a stone statue.

Shula moved even closer, her body pressing flush against his chest, radiating that furnace-like Ifrit warmth.

"When I talked with Lira years ago about my struggles, she was the one who suggested I look for a donor," Shula murmured, her breath warm against his neck. "I can't lie... my hopes went sky-high right then, even though I knew it was wrong. I knew Lira would never consciously allow it. But weeks after that talk, I called Lira back. I told her I was reaching out to everyone in the League to see who would be a match..."

Shula looked up, genuine shame and confession etched across her striking features. "I lied. I didn't call anyone else. Lira was the first... and the only one I ever called."

Always finding a cunning choice of words, Rhys thought bitterly, disgusted by the sheer manipulation. But what actually came out of his mouth was infinitely crueler—driven entirely by Omen.

"What a fantastic friend," Rhys sneered, his voice dropping into a deep, mocking drawl. "You wanted nothing more than to ruin our marriage, and you just couldn't help yourself, could you?"

Shula flinched as if burned, looking up at him with almost desperate, pleading eyes. "No! That was the furthest thing from the truth!" she insisted. "I didn't know we would be a match! But once the results came back... once I saw that you and I were somehow a perfect genetic match... I knew. Even fate itself was bringing us together."

Inside his own mind, Rhys was seething with pure, unfiltered rage. Fate? He was so beyond sick of hearing that exact line from every woman who wasn't his wife.

Then, Omen made his move.

Without Rhys’s consent, his hand moved smoothly, slipping the wooden cat figurine deep into his suit jacket pocket.

"Then it's mine for good," Rhys said through a dark, cold smirk. Zero remorse. Zero guilt.

Shula didn't fight it. She simply accepted it with a gentle, tragic nod. "It is only rightfully returning to the one I truly love," she murmured softly.

Rhys felt himself drowning, utterly losing the internal tug-of-war against his darker half. You can't reason with a raging psychic storm.

Omen, fully driving the physical body now, twisted the knife with ruthless, shameless pleasure. "Darius is going to be utterly heartbroken when he finds out."

Shula winced, her golden eyes dropping to the polished stone floor of the vault. "I know..." she whispered softly.

She took a deep, shuddering breath, regaining her composure, before completely shifting the mood in a way that left Rhys reeling.

"This is terrible," Shula said softly, a sultry, intimate smile returning to her lips as her manicured fingers slowly brushed up the lapels of his jacket. "The mood is completely ruined down here now. And I still wanted to show you your surprise."

The sheer, staggering absurdity of her statement acted like a total shock to Rhys's system. The sudden jolt allowed his actual consciousness to break through Omen's suppression, snapping him right back into control of his body.

"The surprise?" Rhys blurted out, thoroughly bewildered, blinking rapidly as he looked around the vault. "I thought the surprise was you buying the deed for the entire venue for the catering grand opening!"

Shula looked up at him, her golden eyes sparkling with warm, unabashed longing.

"Oh no, my love," she hummed softly, her voice trailing over his skin like velvet fire. "My real surprise is still waiting for you upstairs."