Unwilling Trophy Wife (Serena and Victor) novel Chapter 136

Leon shook his head. “I’m not sure. But Frank checked, and Eliza takes Oliver to meet a man every day. A stranger!”

Victor paused, his gaze fixed on Leon’s small face before narrowing slightly. He couldn’t quite believe it. “Leon, stop making things up. Why would Ellie take Oliver to meet some stranger?”

“If you don’t believe me, I’ll show you tomorrow. You’ll see for yourself!” Leon’s face flushed with a mixture of urgency and frustration.

Victor studied his son’s serious expression. He had always trusted Eliza and couldn’t imagine her betraying him. Yet, Leon was well–behaved and sensible. He wouldn’t fabricate something like this without reason.

After a brief silence, Victor nodded slowly. “Alright. I’ll go with you tomorrow.”

The next morning, around 11 AM, Victor and Leon sat quietly in the car, parked at the corner. They watched as Eliza, holding Oliver’s hand, disappeared down a narrow alley.

Leon crouched by the car window, whispering urgently, “Dad, hurry up, or we’ll lose them again.”

“Sit back,” Victor said, eyes fixed on the alley’s entrance. He hadn’t expected Eliza to actually bring Oliver out that day. Starting the engine, he followed at a cautious distance.

Even with the evidence right in front of him, something didn’t sit right. A part of him still wondered if there had been some misunderstanding.

Perhaps she was simply taking Oliver for a walk or running errands.

The two of them trailed behind, keeping their distance, as they saw Eliza and Oliver meet Luther Foster. The trio strolled into a park, chatting and laughing. Victor clenched the steering wheel, watching them with a growing sense of disbelief.

He fumed, ‘How could this happen? How could Ellie do this behind my back? Anger surged within him, and he slammed his fist on the steering wheel.

He got out of the car, and Leon quickly followed, his voice almost a whisper, “I told you.”

They hid behind a large tree, keeping their distance. Luther was holding a soda, playfully teasing Oliver, who laughed with delight.

Oliver took the soda, sipping it slowly.

He looked up at Luther and asked, “Dad, last time I took Leon’s favorite picture book and tore it. He even got scolded by Mr. Powell Do you think he’s silly?”

“My son is the clever one. Leon could never outsmart you,” Luther replied with a grin.

Oliver puffed up his chest, feeling proud. He continued drinking his soda, the glug sound echoing with each sip. “Hmph, his dad’s silly too. Every time! pick on Leon, he doesn’t notice but still scolds him. Isn’t that funny?”

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as Eliza sat nervously on a nearby bench, glancing around occasionally.

She tugged at a loose strand of hair and instinctively pulled at her shirt’s hem.

“We need to get going. It’s late,” she said, reaching for Oliver’s hand.

But Luther, still holding Oliver, twirled him around once more. “Why the rush? I’m not done playing with my son.

Oliver giggled as he spun.

Eliza’s face tightened. “Luther, enough. We really have to leave. Victor might start suspecting something

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