Lost Me, Gained Regret (Jane and Bryant Ferguson) novel Chapter 222

Mark continued, "Word on the street is that Gregory returned to RiverCity looking for clues about his childhood sweetheart."

"You wouldn't guess he's the romantic type." I was surprised. There was someone else like Mark, who held onto the memory of someone from their youth with such determination after all these years.

Mark smiled, not saying much else, but added, "You'll be home tomorrow, right? I'll drop by after work with your gift."

"Gift?" It took me a moment to remember what he talked about last night. I nodded, "Sure, I'll be home for the next few days unless something comes up."

The next day, I woke up naturally, no alarm needed, and reached out to the spot next to me.

Christine wasn't there.

I grabbed my phone and saw her text, [Snuck out. If Steven loses it again, I'll come back to crash.]

Typical Christine.

I chuckled and texted back, then lazily scrolled through my phone in bed. The drama surrounding Margaret and Albert, plus the public spat between Margaret and Teresa at the town hall, had tanked the Ferguson Group's stocks. You could almost hear the collective groan from shareholders about a further drop. And Gregory? He was stirring the pot big time.

With how things were going, the Ferguson family would need to wear disguises to avoid getting mobbed on the street.

"Mrs. Ferguson! Your aunt and her husband are having a brawl in the ward!"

Late in the afternoon, the nurse from BlessedCare Medical Facility called urgently.

"She wants a divorce!" Allen had just apologized, but his true colors showed again, "You must've put her up to this, bitch. Even if she leaves me, you'll be footing my bills till the end!"

"Get lost!" I invoked Bryant's name, "Bryant's on his way here. Do you want to stick around?"

"Huh, I didn't realize you were so good at seducing men. One day, it's Mr. Ferguson, and another, Mr. Larson."

Allen suddenly showed his hand, missing a pinkie, glaring at me with hatred. "That Larson guy, he cut off my finger..."

The wound was still fresh, scabbed over. I recoiled in shock, stepping back.

My phone rang. I answered, trying to sound calm, "Hey, Bryant, you at the hospital? With Mark? Great, come up here."