Regretting The Wife He Threw Away

Briony stared at him, lips pressed tightly together, saying nothing.

Ferdinand had managed to dig up events from over four years ago with such precision.

That could only mean he'd already mastered every detail and person connected to Stewart's life. Back in that quiet old village, if Ferdinand had lost control even once, she and the children would never have survived.

"Ferdinand," she said at last, her voice shaking, "if you hate Stewart so much, why did you ever help little Nina recover her health?"

Ferdinand's brow arched, as if genuinely surprised by her sudden question.

He looked at Briony, a faint, unsettling smile playing on his lips. "Bryn, those two years in that small village-they were the happiest days of my life."

He lifted a hand, his palm spanning the delicate line of her neck. His eyes, usually so warm, were filled now with a tenderness that was almost painful to behold.

"I even thought, if you'd be willing to stay there quietly with little Nina, just live out your life in peace, then I could leave everything behind. I could give up that old life, and just be Mr. Ellsworth-a nobody beside you in that little town, for the rest of my days."

As he spoke, his hand suddenly tightened, closing firmly around her throat.

He squeezed, but not hard enough to hurt her just enough to show he could, if he wanted. Briony frowned but didn't struggle.

She met his gaze, her eyes cold and unyielding, not a trace of fear in them.

leaned closer, pressing his

children, friends. But what I can't accept is Stewart being

her skin, radiating an almost suffocating

a hand and pushed against his chest, trying to put some distance

without warning, bit down hard

pain shot

shoving him away with

go, releasing

slapped him across the face, her voice trembling with fury.

the corner of his mouth, then glanced at her ear, now bleeding freely

feel small-less than I am. Every time look at you, this voice in my head

as if he'd bitten off a piece, the

white of her wedding dress, spreading

her-Stewart, on that cruise ship, tormenting her in the same sick, twisted way,

chest heaved; her breathing grew

she fought back, no matter how she gave in, the

Briony felt utterly

looked at Ferdinand, silent tears slipping down