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.

minutes later, the jet was climbing smoothly into

glass of red wine, a cold smile playing on her lips. She thought the blood pooling

drained her wine and set the glass aside. From her purse, she withdrew a psychology book, leaned back, and began to read, completely at

had barely stepped off their

her

things and

up and relayed the news to

with Gwendolyn and the rest; there shouldn't be any trouble. Still, an uneasy feeling gnawed at

to the Antiquarian Society.

and jogged to the parking lot to fetch

Stewart's anxiety mounted with every passing

it," he

know what was fueling Stewart's urgency,

the trip down

had barely parked when Carl's phone rang

Kensington's been hurt!" The words came

changed.

sirens

out everything else. He didn't hesitate—he flung the door open

crowd had already gathered in the corridor outside the

a stretcher. "Make way! Step aside,

was thick with

the large

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