Regretting the Wife He Threw Away novel Chapter 612

At his words, Briony’s brows knitted together, but in the end, she stopped struggling.

Ferdinand had always been supremely confident in his own concoctions. But as he took Briony’s pulse now, his expression grew increasingly grave.

Something was wrong.

He released her wrist, switched to her other hand, and checked again. After a long moment, he let go.

“What have you been eating lately?”

Briony’s face was cold. “I’ve been gone for nearly two weeks. Are you expecting a full report on every meal I’ve had in that time? Too bad—I lost my sense of taste after the first few days, so I honestly have no idea what I’ve been eating.”

Ferdinand’s face darkened. “Bryn, tell me the truth. Did you take anything else—any other medication?”

“No.” Briony shook her head. “The night Blair Monroe helped me escape, we crashed and ended up stranded on a small island for a few days. The place was so remote, there wasn’t a doctor in sight.”

Ferdinand fixed her with a sharp look, not missing a beat. “But you made it to Astara. Mr. Seven picked you up there.”

“Blair did take me to find Mr. Seven, but he didn’t see me himself. He sent Mr. Hoffman to meet us instead. Mr. Hoffman knows a bit about alternative medicine, but he said the toxin was yours, and only you could cure it.”

Still, Ferdinand scrutinized her.

Briony continued, “Mr. Hoffman wasn’t confident enough to risk prescribing anything. He wouldn’t take that chance.” She paused, then added, “Ferdinand, why are you so sure I took something else?”

“It’s nothing.” Ferdinand slipped an arm around her shoulders. “Let’s get you back to your room. You’re weak right now. From now on, I’ll focus on detoxifying your system. Once that’s done, you’ll need proper rest and care.”

Briony didn’t argue. She was exhausted.

Ferdinand led her back to the master bedroom. The moment she lay down, she drifted into a deep sleep.

He sat by the bed, staring at her pale, fragile face, his brows furrowed in concern. Only after a long while did he finally stand and leave the room.

Closing the door behind him, Ferdinand pulled out his phone and dialed Gifford. “Call the people in the old village. Have them send me a few special medicines…”

Stewart took a deep breath, forcing down his anger. “Fine. Bring Mr. Hoffman in.”

Jonah turned and slipped out, patting Mr. Hoffman—who was waiting by the door—on the shoulder. “Good luck in there.”

Mr. Hoffman sighed quietly but didn’t flinch. He’d made his choice; he could face Stewart’s wrath.

He entered the room.

Stewart fixed him with a hard stare. “Mr. Hoffman. I want an explanation.”

Mr. Hoffman looked down, his voice somber. “When we were talking in the room that day, Ms. Kensington overheard us.”

Stewart was stunned.

“Later, Ms. Kensington came to me privately,” Mr. Hoffman continued, his tone heavy. “She knows about your mission, and she’s aware of how dangerous Ferdinand is. She volunteered to get involved—to act as our eyes and ears, to bring us information from inside.”