The Sleeper's Wrath and His Wife's Strike novel Chapter 162

“You’re probably right. I just felt like she looked familiar, and honestly, she doesn’t seem to care about anyone else—so long as she gets what she wants.”

In Mr. Wilson’s mind, the whole bathroom incident was Lindsay using his wife as a pawn to get rid of someone she disliked.

But thinking about it from another angle, it really just meant his wife had rotten luck.

“I can’t blame anyone else. Guess I just drew the short straw this time,” Mrs. Wilson said, waving a hand dismissively. “Alright, let’s just drop it. Let’s go—I’m soaked and feeling miserable.”

Mr. Wilson nodded and took her hand as they left together.

…

MOLA Café.

Lindsay sent Mrs. Wilson her location. MOLA Café was only about ten minutes’ drive from Bloom.

“What made you suddenly decide to add Mrs. Wilson’s contact info?” Yves asked, sounding casual.

Lindsay replied calmly, “To apologize, of course. When Naomi pulled that stunt, I didn’t step in to stop her—I hid off to the side and recorded it instead. No matter how you look at it, I owe Mrs. Wilson this meal.”

Yves just smiled, saying nothing, but there was something unfathomable in his gaze.

“Why are you looking at me like that? It’s kind of creepy,” Lindsay said, rubbing her arm. “You’re giving me goosebumps.”

Yves pressed his lips together, then said meaningfully, “You’ve grown up, Lindsay.”

She blinked in surprise, but understanding flickered across her face. “Oh, come on. I’m twenty-three. I’m not a kid anymore—I’m an adult.”

Yves shook his head with a smile but still agreed, “Yeah, you are.”

“Don’t you feel guilty toward Charles?” Lindsay pressed.

“If Charles knew his sister was trying to drive a wedge between me and the woman I love… if he were still alive, he’d be the first to set her straight.”

He’d already done more than enough for Alexia. If she insisted on making trouble, that was on her.

“Easy to say now, but you might go soft when the time comes,” Lindsay said with a skeptical smirk.

“You really think I’m that unreliable?” Yves frowned. “Besides, what about Alexia would make me go soft? If it weren’t for being Charles' sister, she’d be nothing to me.”

“Life’s unpredictable. Who knows? Maybe someday you’ll fall for her charms.” Lindsay’s tone was serious, her expression grave—she clearly wasn’t joking.

Alexia wasn’t like Naomi; her schemes ran deep. And this time, she’d teamed up with Bertha even earlier than in the past.