A Widow's Poison, A Wife's Rebellion novel Chapter 892

Hearing the sharp, professional voice on the other end of the line, Starla lowered her gaze, masking the ruthless glint in her eyes.

"Five million. Get a job done for me."

***

At dinner time, Starla didn't go downstairs. When Yardley returned and heard she was skipping the meal, he went up to her room himself.

Starla pulled the door open.

"Not eating?" Yardley asked, his tone attempting to be casual. "Are you really that angry?"

Starla merely glared at him. When he reached out, instinctively moving to stroke the top of her head in a comforting gesture, she took a hard step back. His hand hovered awkwardly in the empty air.

"Alright, listen. In half a month, I will personally hand Brinley back to you. Okay?"

Garret had already informed him that Starla had been asking about Brinley that afternoon. Yardley knew exactly how sensitive she was when it came to this issue. But right now, his hands were tied. His sister's heart was consumed by a dark, simmering vengeance, and it wasn't something he could simply soothe away with sweet words.

"Let's just go down and eat, alright? No matter how mad you are, you need to eat. Don't make yourself sick over this."

He had never really known how to comfort women. Everyone in his life seemed incredibly difficult to appease—his own sister included, not to mention *that* woman.

"I have no appetite. I'm not eating," Starla snapped. She hadn't been hungry to begin with, but seeing her infuriating brother made her stomach turn completely.

"You're being—"

Before Yardley could finish his sentence, his phone buzzed violently in his pocket. He pulled it out. It was Herbert Farley.

"What is it?"

Starla caught sight of the caller ID, and her expression darkened even further. Yardley noticed her reaction and sighed inwardly.

"Brinley Seabrook is dead," Herbert's voice came through the receiver, tight and clipped.

Yardley's breath hitched. "What?"

"Didn't I tell you I would hand her over to you?" Yardley's voice rose, frustration bleeding through. "I just said she couldn't afford to die right now!"

Starla remained silent.

"You—" Yardley wanted to reprimand her, to yell, but seeing her standing there, perfectly unbothered and refusing to speak, his anger boiled over. He spun on his heel and stormed off, his back radiating a dangerous fury.

Just then, Starla's phone buzzed with a text message.

*[Someone beat us to it. She's been taken care of.]*

Beat them to it. So, Brinley's death had absolutely nothing to do with her after all. It seemed she wasn't the only person in the world who wanted Brinley Seabrook's head on a platter.

Starla didn't bother replying. She simply tucked the phone away and headed downstairs.

She hadn't had an appetite before, but knowing Brinley was dead? Suddenly, she was starving.