Regretting The Wife He Threw Away

Stewart's sudden, softened tone caught Rosita off guard. She looked at him, her brows knitting in silent confusion.

But Briony had no time to dwell on Stewart's change in attitude.

Right now, all she cared about was finding her mother.

Any lead, any glimmer of hope-she refused to let it slip by.

She fixed Stewart with a fierce stare. "My mom's missing."

Stewart's brow furrowed. "When did this happen?"

"Last night. After she left your office."

Briony's gaze was icy, her resentment barely concealed.

Stewart flinched under her glare. “Briony, do you really think your mother's disappearance has something to do with me?"

"She vanished right after seeing you! Who else am I supposed to come to?!"

Her voice broke, anger and desperation colliding. Briony's chest heaved, and for a moment the room spun. She pressed her lips together, fighting back tears that threatened to spill from her reddened eyes.

She'd spent the entire night searching-she was at her breaking point.

Seeing Stewart's indifference now, all the frustration she'd bottled up suddenly exploded.

the hospital last time, my mother never

have been dragged through the mud online, and my mom wouldn't think

I agreed to your arrangement five

her accusations, his handsome features growing colder. "Being married to me is

Briony met his dark eyes, unflinching. "If I could go back and choose again,

completely, something hot and furious rising in his

mother yesterday," he said, his voice cold and edged with anger. "Instead of blaming me, maybe you should

stared at the man in front of her, realizing yet again -that disappointment in someone truly had no

thought she couldn't possibly be let down by Stewart any further, but he always

smile curled Briony's lips. "Right. I'm just being

as he watched the

stepped up beside Stewart, looking at Briony with

happened to step outside to take a call when

tell

barely know Ms. Hudson. She already thought I was the other woman because she knew about the divorce, so she was cold to me. I offered her some tea, but she refused, left

practically gagged at Rosita's faux-innocence. "Please. Why don't you check your purse and see if you're carrying a marriage certificate? Ms.

tears springing to her

performance works on the gullible,