Regretting The Wife He Threw Away

Barrie wrapped an arm around Lorna's slender waist and pushed open the door.

The private lounge was empty, save for a bowl of fruit and a few bottles of wine on the table.

Once the heavy door clicked shut behind them, the noise from the hallway faded into silence.

Barrie pinned Lorna against the wall, one hand firmly on her waist, the other tilting her chin up as he leaned in for a kiss-

"Hold on," she said, pressing a manicured finger to his lips. Lorna's red lips curled into a sultry smile. "Mr. Lockwood, there's no rush. We have the whole night ahead of us."

Barrie's eyes narrowed. "Does Stewart really let you stay out all night?"

"Oh, him..." Lorna toyed with Barrie's tie, her fingers light and teasing. "He's not exactly in top shape. Spends more time asleep in bed than awake these days. I doubt he'd even notice if I went home or not."

Barrie raised an eyebrow. "He's really that ill?"

Lorna laughed softly, eyes glinting. "Mr. Lockwood, you've heard the rumors, haven't you? Why won't you believe me?"

"It's hard to swallow," Barrie replied with a cold smile, his glasses reflecting a sharp glint. "Stewart controls the economic lifeblood of Northborough. I was looking forward to facing him in the business arena, and now you're telling me he's on his last legs?"

Lorna sighed, her tone tinged with regret. "Exactly. I only agreed to the engagement so quickly because of his background and power. But now? He probably won't see the end of this summer. I have to start looking out for myself."

Barrie said, his thumb tracing gentle circles on Lorna's bare skin, "his ex-wife gave him twins, and he's already brought the boy

creeping into her voice. "So Stewart's got an heir, but what about me? I'm barely even his fiancée yet-if he dies, I

help you... take care of

his tone casual but

shot up. "You're joking, right,

faint, mocking smile. "What's

at

won't play hardball won't keep her place for long." Barrie moved to the sofa, poured two

accepted the drink and settled onto the opposite couch, crossing her long legs

the amber liquid in

but if it means getting blood on my hands for the sake of power, no amount of money in the world could buy me peace of mind. Mr. Lockwood, I may love money, but that doesn't

were delivered in a playful, coquettish tone, her voice

amused. Lorna was

man's ego and play to his

wasn't about to let

said, "Cutting the weeds means pulling them

I'm sure you