Regretting The Wife He Threw Away
Chapter 267
Rosita told Daisy to wait for her outside the Antiquarian Society with the car running.
When she emerged, she slid into the back seat and said, "Take me straight to the airport."
Daisy gaped at her in shock. "Rosita, are you leaving the country?"
Rosita, already rummaging through her bag for a change of clothes, began slipping out of her current outfit. "I've wrapped up all my scenes with the production," she explained, pulling on a simple, elegant dress. "I want to study abroad for a while, and the agency worked everything out. I'll probably be gone for a year or two."
"Two years?" Daisy's surprise turned to dismay, and her hands tightened on the steering wheel. "But what about me...?"
"Talk to Jean," Rosita said, fastening her dress. "I've already spoken to her. She'll have you assist with some of the other clients for now. When I get back, you'll come work with me again."
Daisy's face brightened with relief. She'd grown fond of working with Rosita, and the idea that they'd be reunited someday made everything easier to bear.
Rosita tossed her old clothes into a bag.
At the airport, she said her goodbyes to Daisy, then turned and strode inside without looking back.
In the private terminal, Garry's right-hand man, Larson, was waiting for her.
"Ms. Lockwood," Larson greeted her with a slight bow. "Mr. Ferguson arranged a private jet. We'll be flying straight to Westenmar."
Rosita handed him the bag with her clothes. "Find someone to donate these for me."
Larson took the bag with a nod. "Understood."
Rosita slipped on a pair of sunglasses. "Let's go."
Larson led her inside.
later, the jet was climbing smoothly into
swirled a glass of red wine, a cold smile playing on her lips. She thought the blood pooling beneath Briony looked even
From her purse, she withdrew
off
Antiquarian Society. Apparently, Ms. Lockwood hurt her hand, so the last close-up is being filmed with Ms. Kensington
on things and update us right away if anything
up and relayed
the rest; there shouldn't be any trouble. Still, an uneasy feeling gnawed
to the Antiquarian
it," Carl said, and jogged to the parking
Stewart's
it," he
was fueling Stewart's urgency,
shaving the trip down to
had barely parked when Carl's
been hurt!" The words
changed.
sirens wailed, growing
out everything else. He didn't hesitate—he flung
didn't have to search. A crowd had already gathered in
rushed in, pushing a stretcher. "Make way! Step aside,
air was thick with
was jostled by the crowd, the large man stumbling
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