A Widow's Poison, A Wife's Rebellion novel Chapter 412

"You know something, don't you?" Darian pressed.

"You don't need to know what I know," Caden replied. "Just get out of your deals with Yelchin Group. Now."

"But Caden, our friendship with Fairfax..."

"Right now, none of us can help him," Caden cut in sharply.

That one sentence—none of us can help him—underscored the severity of the situation. Darian was now certain that Caden knew something they didn't, something far more complicated than just Herbert fighting Fairfax over Starla.

...

By the time Xenia reached Farley Group, her legs felt like they didn't belong to her. She collapsed in exhaustion, a sharp pain shooting up from her feet. She was sure they were covered in blisters from all the walking.

The receptionist was the same one from her last visit. When their eyes met, Xenia's flared with anger, while the receptionist offered a faint, polite smile. "Hello, Ms. Yelchin."

The greeting sounded courteous, but to Xenia's ears, it dripped with mockery. Her expression instantly turned venomous. She glared at the woman. "I want to see Herbert."

"Do you have an appointment?"

Xenia stiffened. An appointment? In all her life in Marina City, no one had ever demanded she make an appointment to see them. For this lowly receptionist to ask was utterly ridiculous!

"You tell him," Xenia hissed, "that I have crucial information about Starla. If he doesn't hear it, he'll regret it for the rest of his life!"

"Do you have an appointment?" the receptionist repeated, her smile unwavering.

A magnetic male voice came through the line. "Speak."

He assumed it was the receptionist and uttered the single, cold word, clearly annoyed by the breach of protocol. Normally, the front desk would report to his assistant, who would then relay the message to him.

Xenia's heart pounded at the sound of his icy tone. "Herbert, it's me."

She desperately tried to recall Brinley's advice, forcing her typically haughty tone into a softer register. The act was so foreign it almost made her gag. She hated mimicking Starla's cloying demeanor, but she was out of options. The throbbing blisters on her feet were a constant reminder of how a woman the Yelchins despised had brought her, the great heiress, to this state—forced to beg for every scrap of dignity.

Herbert clearly had no interest in speaking with her. Upon hearing her voice, he was about to hang up.

Sensing his intent, Xenia blurted out just as the line was about to go dead, "Starla played you! I have proof!"