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.
jet was climbing
swirled a glass of red wine, a cold smile playing on her lips.
soared through the sky, Rosita drained her wine and set the glass aside. From
Carl had barely stepped off their
the Antiquarian Society. Apparently, Ms. Lockwood hurt her hand, so the last close-up is being filmed with Ms.
Carl replied. "Keep an eye on things and update us right away
up and relayed the news to
was with Gwendolyn and the rest; there shouldn't be
to the Antiquarian Society.
it," Carl said, and jogged to
was a twenty-minute drive, but Stewart's anxiety mounted with every
on it,"
didn't know what was fueling Stewart's urgency,
anyway, shaving the trip down
when Carl's
words came out in a panicked
changed. "What
the distance, sirens wailed,
everything else. He didn't hesitate—he flung the
have to search. A crowd had already gathered in the corridor
rushed in, pushing a stretcher. "Make way! Step aside,
was thick
by the crowd, the
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