Regretting The Wife He Threw Away

Chapter 46

Stewart slipped one hand into his pocket, his sharp gaze lowered as he looked at Rosita. His voice was calm but distant. "Go home and get some rest."

With that, he closed the car door.

The sound wasn't loud or abrupt, but it startled Rosita so much that she sat frozen for several seconds before she snapped out of it.

The car was already moving. She rolled down the window and craned her neck to look for Stewart, but all she caught was the back of him stepping into the elevator.

"Carl, stop the car."

Carl was Stewart's longtime personal assistant-sharp, discreet, and always attuned to Stewart's moods.

Tonight, Stewart was clearly not in a good place.

Glancing at her in the rearview mirror, Carl spoke gently but firmly. "Ms.

Lockwood, Mr. Wentworth made it clear-my job is to see you home safe. Please don't make this difficult for me."

head and clenched

...

the neon-lit private lounge, Briony stood alone-slender, upright,

glasses lined the table in front of her, filled with everything from vodka to whiskey

couch, legs crossed, arms draped around two women. His smirk was pure arrogance. "You finish all those drinks, and I'll

reckless young men. If she

her eyes. "What's the second

around. Every guy here comes from old money. Don't say I never did anything for you. You like flirting with men, don't you? Go ahead- pick any one of my friends and seduce him. If you can pull it off, I'll give you whatever you

laugh cold. "Mack, you really are Malcolm Kensington's

Crash!

shattered

winced as a piece of glass sliced the back of her hand, blood welling

shot to his feet and lunged at Briony, seizing her by the throat

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