Regretting the Wife He Threw Away novel Chapter 355

Her daughter's tiny fists rained down on him, light as falling raindrops—nothing that could possibly hurt.

Yet to Stewart, every little punch landed squarely on his heart.

He stared at his daughter in stunned silence, his grip on Briony's hand loosening bit by bit.

The forceful air he'd carried just moments ago had vanished completely.

Briony gently pulled her hand free and bent to scoop Little Nina into her arms.

Holding her daughter close, her voice gentle and soothing, Briony whispered, "Don't worry, Little Nina. Mommy's okay."

Little Nina threw her arms tightly around Briony's neck, glaring fiercely at Stewart with all the indignation a four-year-old could muster. "A real gentleman never bullies a lady. Shame on you!"

Stewart watched his daughter, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.

He wanted to say something, to comfort her somehow, but Little Nina had already buried her angry face into the crook of Briony's neck.

"Mommy, I don't like him!" she declared, her voice trembling with both outrage and the threat of tears.

Briony's heart ached.

Little Nina was usually so cheerful, so optimistic, but she was only four. Watching her parents argue—seeing things escalate—must have been terrifying for her.

Briony couldn't help but feel a stab of guilt for letting her temper get the better of her and scaring her child.

She stroked her daughter's back tenderly, fixing Stewart with a cold stare. "You should leave. Don't come to Skybreeze Retreat again."

Stewart pressed his lips together, his dark eyes locked on Briony.

After a moment, he gave a low, defeated reply. "Alright."

Briony turned away, carrying her daughter inside.

Little Mario stood frozen at the doorway.

As Briony passed, she spoke softly to him, "Little Mario, it's getting late. Let's go upstairs and get ready for bed."

Little Mario nodded, glancing back at Stewart before hurrying after Briony.

Stewart watched his son's small figure retreat, his fists clenching helplessly at his sides.

—

That night, Little Mario slept with Briony and Little Nina again.

Just like last time, Briony lay in the middle, an arm wrapped gently around each child.

Tonight, she read them a bedtime story.

The two little ones listened, captivated.

When she finished, Briony turned off the lamp. "Alright now, close your eyes and go to sleep."

"Mommy, let me sing the lullaby tonight!" Little Nina piped up, all traces of the earlier scene forgotten. Children, after all, have short memories.

Now she was determined to fulfill her big-sisterly duties by singing her brother to sleep.

Briony smiled. "Alright, tonight you can sing the lullaby for your brother."

Little Mario clapped his hands in delight.

Briony hugged him a little closer. He'd become much more outgoing lately—especially after their recent time together. It was a wonderful change.

In the dim room, Little Nina's sweet, childish voice floated through the air.

She only got through a few lines before nodding off herself.

For the remaining two days, Bill told Rosita to stay home and focus on her script.

Rosita agreed in words only. The moment she returned to Lunar Heights Estate, she headed straight upstairs for a long bath.

Afterward, she slipped into a silk slip dress and strolled down to her private home theater, feeling refreshed.

She picked out a movie, uncorked a bottle of red wine, and stretched out on a luxury massage recliner—worth more than most people's cars—enjoying the film and the wine in equal measure.

Script study was the last thing on her mind.

Why stress, when the company's top boss was determined to make her a star? Acting diligent was enough for appearances' sake.

Rosita's slender fingers twirled the stem of her wineglass, swirling the crimson liquid with idle grace.

Daisy pushed open the door and stepped in. "Rosita, Ms. Lynn is here again."

At that, Rosita's hand paused. She replied coolly, "Tell her I'm not home."

"I did, but she doesn't believe me," Daisy sighed. "She said that if you don't see her today, she'll leak your secret from when you were seventeen to the tabloids."

Rosita froze, then sat up abruptly.

She frowned at Daisy. "Bring her in. Now."

Just moments ago, she was the picture of lazy elegance. Now, her hand trembled around the wineglass as anxiety overtook her.

Daisy didn't know exactly what was going on, but from Rosita's reaction, it was clear—Lauren really did have something on her.

A secret from when she was seventeen?

Daisy turned and walked out, muttering to herself as she went, "What could Rosita's big secret at seventeen possibly be?"