My Accidental Husband Is My Revenge Partner-Chapter 434: Hello…Father

"Tell me, Xander, what the hell do you have to say for yourself?!"

Tracie shoved him hard against the chest, her fists trembling with the barely restrained urge to pummel him until he coughed up every lie, every deception, every ounce of cruelty he had inflicted.

Maybe then, just maybe, she would feel the slightest bit of relief. But deep down, she knew nothing could truly soothe the storm inside her except one thing—Xander being dead.

But that wasn’t her burden to carry.

That right belonged to the two people he had wronged the most. They would decide his fate. Whether he would be granted mercy or left to rot in the ruin he had created.

Xander stood frozen, his lips pressed into a thin line. It was as if his tongue had turned to lead, rendering him incapable of speech. His head hung low, his entire body trembling. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he stubbornly blinked them away.

"All these years—" he finally tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat, making him choke on his own saliva.

"I don’t want to hear whatever pathetic excuse you’re about to say," Tracie snapped, her teeth gritted as she fought back the emotions threatening to spill over. She hastily wiped the tears off her face, refusing to show any weakness in front of him.

"It doesn’t change anything. Not a damn thing. Now that you know the truth, I hope—no, I pray—you finally do something right for once in your miserable life."

Xander didn’t reply. He just stood there, his breathing uneven, his hands curled into fists at his sides.

Tracie took one last look at him before turning on her heel and walking away.

She had wanted to tell him—wanted to throw the truth in his face like a weapon. To tell him Anastasia was alive, that the woman he had tried to destroy had survived. But he didn’t deserve to know. Not after everything he had done to her.

Instead, she reached into her pocket, pulled out her phone, and dialed a number.

It was time. Time to finally take down Thomas Wallace and his accomplice.

Xander no longer waited for Fiona to wake up. He didn’t need to. The truth had already been laid bare before him, raw and undeniable. He and Samantha left immediately, heading straight for Radiantia.

They stared up at the imposing Wallace Enterprise building. Samantha hesitated before asking, "Do you want to go inside? See him?"

Xander didn’t respond right away. His gaze remained locked onto the building—the place that had once been his future, his birthright.

"If things had been different," he murmured after a long silence, "Maybe Xavier and I would’ve worked here together. Maybe I would’ve been the COO, standing beside him, sharing in the company’s successes instead of..." He trailed off, his voice hollow, his hands tightening into fists.

Samantha closed her eyes, swallowing down the ache in her chest. She had never seen Xander like this before—so vulnerable, so utterly lost.

She reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, offering silent comfort.

She had done horrible things to Anastasia, things she couldn’t take back. And for what? For a lie. Because she had been so blinded by her love for Xander, she had become an accomplice to his vengeance. And now, all that was left in its wake was guilt. Crushing, suffocating guilt.

Meanwhile, inside the towering building, Xavier sat in his office, his eyes fixed on the security feed. He zoomed in on the figures standing outside the company entrance.

A man in a black mask.

But Xavier didn’t need to see his face to know who it was.

His twin.

His expression remained unreadable as he stared at the screen. His name had finally been cleared, and the brother who had betrayed him now stood outside his doorstep.

Despite everything Xander had done, Xavier couldn’t bring himself to feel anger.

Only pity.

He pushed himself up from his chair, straightened his suit, and strode out of the office.

By the time he reached the entrance, Xander and Samantha were already turning to leave.

"And where do you think you’re going?" Xavier’s voice cut through the air like a blade.

Xander stiffened. Slowly, he turned around.

"Brother..."

Xavier arched a brow at the word, but he said nothing.

Xander took a shaky breath. "He’s caused too much damage to our relationship. He deserves to be punished for what he’s done." He hesitated, as if struggling with his own words, then looked up at Xavier with something that almost resembled desperation. "Take me home."

Xavier studied him for a long moment.

Xander had no right to ask for such a thing. No right to claim a home he had abandoned.

But there was something in his voice—something raw, something broken.

Without a word, Xavier turned and walked toward his car.

Xander and Samantha took that as a sign and silently followed behind, heading to their car.

Meanwhile, across the city

Thomas Wallace hasn’t slept.

He had spent the night at a club instead, drowning himself in alcohol, trying to push away the gnawing fear clawing at his gut.

How had Xander found out the truth?

And what was going to happen now?

His hands trembled as he brought another glass to his lips, downing the drink in one gulp.

"This is bad," he muttered under his breath.

Bruce, sitting beside him, let out a heavy sigh. He, too, was at a loss.

"There’s still a chance this is all a setup," Bruce said weakly. "Maybe it’s a misunderstanding."

Mr. Wallace stared at him as if he’d lost his mind.

"You’ve been here for too long and your wife has been calling you nonstop," Bruce reminded.

"What if he’s already there waiting for me?"

"Xander? That’s impossible. Xander wouldn’t fly from Glamourwood to Radiantia just to—"

"He flew from Xattlewood to Radiantia just to ask me questions regarding Arabella’s death, remember?" Mr Wallace reminded.

Bruce ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. "So what do we do now?"

Thomas didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled out his phone and called his wife.

"Has anyone come by looking for me?" he asked, his voice sharp.

"No," his wife replied. "Why? Should I be expecting someone?"

Mr Wallace exhaled, relieved.

Maybe he still had time to fix this.

He bid Bruce farewell and left the club, driving home.

But when he arrived, his relief vanished.

Xavier’s car was parked outside.

His blood ran cold.

"What the hell is he doing here?"

A sense of dread settled in his stomach as he stepped into the house.

And then—he froze.

Standing in the living room, waiting for him, were his two identical sons.

Both glaring at him with fire in their eyes.

"Hello... Father," Xander sneered, his voice dripping with mockery.