Regretting The Wife He Threw Away

Briony pulled out her phone and turned on the flashlight.

"There's no signal," she said, glancing over at Carl.

Carl was already tapping at his own phone, but his efforts were just as futile-no bars, not even a flicker.

He raised his phone, shining its light at the elevator's camera. His expression was grim. "The whole car's lost power."

It was the height of summer. In a sealed elevator with no electricity, if no one found them soon, they could easily pass out from lack of air in a matter of hours.

"Carl, this isn't some random malfunction." Briony met Carl's eyes, her certainty unwavering. "Someone doesn't want me at that board meeting."

Carl knew there was no point in hiding the truth anymore. Briony wouldn't believe him if he tried.

He let out a heavy sigh. "Ms. Kensington, I'm sorry. I should've anticipated this. I've dragged you into it."

"This isn't your fault." Briony closed her eyes for a moment, collecting herself. "Right now, you should be worrying whether Stewart can handle that board meeting alone."

Carl paused, taken aback. Then, with a helpless smile, he shook his head. "It's out of our hands now."

gaze, her expression

outside world, all they could do now was wait and hope

the executive office on the 58th floor, Fred and Stewart-father and son-were facing each other

dressed in a sharp black suit, his hair perfectly in place-every

past

gaze cold as he regarded the man who looked so

should I call you Fred,

how Fiona raised you? No respect

and contempt-the same look

died years ago. I was seven when I carried his portrait, knelt at his

acknowledge me as your father, I couldn't care less. But I'm

to hide his intentions. The hatred in his

sitting opposite him wasn't

could

that about

come begging for help, Stewart

when Malvina was dying, I went to you. If you hadn't stood by and done nothing, do you think I'd be here now, rallying everyone