My Accidental Husband Is My Revenge Partner-Chapter 431: She’s Been Stabbed

Tracking Fiona down had been simple.

Her divorce had turned into a media circus, flooding news sites and social media feeds. To the world, Fiona and Marcus had been a dream couple—wealthy, powerful, seemingly in love. But the fairytale had shattered, and when the announcement of their split dropped, it sent shockwaves through every corner of the internet.

What made the case even bigger was Fiona’s decision to take it to court.

Now, outside the courthouse, chaos reigned.

Reporters and paparazzi swarmed the entrance, microphones raised, cameras flashing, voices overlapping in a chaotic frenzy. Security guards struggled to contain the mass of bodies pushing against the barricades, their shouts drowned out by the roaring crowd. More guards were being called in, but the reporters were relentless. They smelled blood in the water and wouldn’t leave without a headline.

Xander sat in his heavily tinted car, watching the commotion with a detached expression. He rested one elbow on the window, fingers drumming lightly against the door.

"This is going to take a while," he muttered, scanning the scene.

Samantha sat in the driver’s seat, arms crossed. "We can wait. No point drawing attention to ourselves."

He nodded, agreeing. Pushing through a mob like that would only make things worse. It was better to observe from a distance.

Minutes passed. The energy outside the courthouse shifted. The shouting grew louder.

Then Fiona stepped out.

The swarm of reporters went wild. Questions fired from every direction. The crowd surged forward, pressing hard against the barriers. Security guards braced themselves, forming a tighter wall around Fiona as they worked to clear a path to her car.

Xander’s gaze flickered to the woman walking beside Fiona. She had her arm around Fiona’s back, guiding her protectively through the chaos. There was something oddly familiar about her. He narrowed his eyes, trying to place where he’d seen her before. The feeling nagged at him, but no memory surfaced.

"Fiona!" a reporter shouted, shoving her microphone dangerously close. 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

"What led to your separation from Marcus?"

"Was it family pressure?"

"Or his company’s bankruptcy?"

The questions came relentlessly.

Tracie, who had been attempting to push them away, clenched her jaw in frustration. They weren’t going to back down.

"I’ll answer them," Fiona suddenly announced, her voice steady despite the madness.

Tracie shot her a sharp look. Are you sure?

Fiona nodded.

Instantly, the crowd fell silent. The cameras stopped shaking. The reporters stilled, leaning in, microphones poised.

Fiona took a breath. "Marcus and I were perfect—"

A shadow moved across the street.

Unbeknownst to Fiona, Xander, or anyone else, a man stood watching from the other side of the road, leaning against his car. A cigarette dangled from his lips, the smoke curling lazily into the air. His left eye was scarred, the jagged mark running down his cheek like a cruel signature.

His phone vibrated.

Lifting it to his ear, he spoke in a low voice. "Xander is here. I can see his car but he’s no where near the woman. He seems to still be inside his car. The woman—Fiona—just walked out."

The voice on the other end was cold. "When you get your chance, get rid of her. Make sure you do the job right and don’t leave any evidence behind."

The scarred man smirked, exhaling smoke. "Consider it done." He threw the cigarette bud on the ground and stepped on it.

He ended the call and sent a quick signal.

Across the chaotic crowd, another man—a reporter indistinguishable among the others—felt his phone buzz. His grip on the microphone tightened.

Then—

A sudden shove. A sharp, calculated movement.

Fiona gasped, her body jolting violently as pain tore through her stomach.

Blood.

A crimson stain bloomed across her dress, stark and unforgiving.

The moment stretched, frozen in horror.

Then—chaos.

Screams erupted. Reporters stumbled backward, horrified but still snapping photos. The flashes illuminated Fiona’s paling face as her knees buckled.

Tracie’s heart slammed against her ribs. "Fiona!"

The bodyguards reacted too late, shoving people aside in search of the attacker, but he was already gone—vanishing into the sea of bodies like a ghost.

Xander, watching from his car, stiffened. His fingers curled into fists as he took in the scene. Everything had happened so quickly no one saw the intruder.

"What the hell just happened?" Samantha whispered, her voice barely audible over the noise.

There was no time to wait for an ambulance. Fiona’s men lifted her into the car, shouting for space as they sped toward the hospital.

Samantha didn’t hesitate. She slammed her foot on the gas, tailing them.

Staying behind would only mean getting caught up in police questioning. And right now, they needed to know if Fiona would survive.

**

The hospital smelled like antiseptic and desperation.

Tracie stood outside the operating room, pacing relentlessly. Her bloodstained clothes clung to her like a second skin, but she didn’t care. She barely noticed the curious glances from passing nurses.

Her mind was racing.

Who did this?

Her hands clenched into fists. Marcus. It had to be him.

When the divorce was finalized, Marcus had lost everything. Fiona had been smart—transferring all her assets to her sister before the ruling. The court had ruled in her favor, leaving Marcus with nothing. He’d been humiliated, forced to pay damages despite his financial ruin.

Was this his revenge?

Or...

Tracie’s stomach twisted as another thought crept in.

Could it have been Mr. Wallace? That thought lingered.

A chill ran down her spine. Mr. Wallace was dangerous, his reach extending further than most knew. Fiona had powerful enemies, and Tracie had come to Glamourwood to be by her side, believing she’d be safe with bodyguards.

But in the end, none of it had mattered. Fiona had still been stabbed. Fiona needed to stay alive. She’s the only person who can tell Xander the truth and he would believe her.

The operating room’s green light glowed above the door, signaling that the surgeons were still working. Every second felt agonizingly long.