Regretting The Wife He Threw Away

Lorna strode into the room, flopped onto the couch, crossed her legs, and let out

a dramatic sigh. "How much longer am I supposed to play this wretched, universally despised villainess?"

Stewart turned, taking in Lorna's insolent, slouched posture on the couch, but he was used to her antics by now.

"Ferdinand's reached out to the Wentworths."

Lorna paused mid-stretch. "So he's finally going back to his roots?"

He nodded. "Looks like it."

She snorted. "Stealing your wife and kids wasn't enough for him-now he's after your assets too, huh?"

Stewart's dark eyes chilled. "We can leak the news about that Northside property."

Lorna arched a brow, draping herself over the back of her chair to study him. "Accelerating your little trap, are we?"

"Someone out there is even more impatient than we are. We can't drag this out any longer."

...

Over the weekend, Briony devoted herself to the kids.

Little Mario seemed perfectly content as long as he was with Nina, not once complaining about homework.

Carol, on the other hand, took several calls from Lorna. Each time, she'd step outside to answer, and when she returned, her face was troubled.

going on-Lorna was hounding Carol about

there were so many of them. At that age, kids' fingers are still so delicate, but Lorna insisted on Mario grinding through endless exercises every day. Briony didn't approve of her methods

also knew she couldn't bring her son home to live with her, at least not yet. So she never said a bad word about Lorna in front of

to understand the conflicts between adults, and Briony couldn't bear the thought that he might end up afraid of

take him inside. Briony watched them disappear into the house before turning

from the window and

in the painting had a cold, severe profile; only the eyes and brows betrayed any emotion, but even that was nothing but a chilling indifference. Just as

pressing a handkerchief to his

"Dad?"

door swung open, and little Mario came running in, clutching a new

me a new story! Will you read it to me,

up the bloodstained handkerchief in his palm, then

at the book Mario was holding, his voice still rough from the cough. "Did you have

with Mom, and

features softene as carried Mario

room.

the hallway, he tossed

ask you

I was happy here. I answered just like you

setting him down

still, his

those eyes, Stewart couldn't help but