Regretting the Wife He Threw Away novel Chapter 631

“I know,” Mary murmured, her hand resting protectively on her belly. “But… what if, after he’s born, he isn’t recognized as Ferdinand’s child?”

Not Ferdinand’s child?

Briony’s gaze sharpened, trying to read Mary’s intent. “What are you saying?”

Mary met her eyes steadily. “Briony, I’ve been having nightmares lately.”

She changed the subject so abruptly that Briony’s brows knitted in concern.

“I keep dreaming I’ll die in childbirth,” Mary whispered, “and Ferdinand dies too.”

Briony pressed her lips together, silent for a moment.

She remembered when she was pregnant with the twins—how nightmares plagued her, too. The dark visions always seemed to foreshadow something awful. Later, when she delivered early and nearly bled out, the bloody chaos was eerily similar to what she’d seen in her dreams.

Maybe it was a mother’s sixth sense.

Was Mary’s nightmare another warning? A mother’s gut instinct?

If Ferdinand died, would that mean Stewart’s people had finally succeeded? That would be a good thing… for everyone else.

But what about Mary? So blameless in all of this.

Briony didn’t want Mary’s fate to mirror her dreams. Mary had only loved the wrong man; she wasn’t lost beyond hope. And the child she was carrying—the child was entirely innocent.

Ferdinand’s crimes were his own; neither Mary nor her baby should have to pay the price.

“It’s the hormones,” Briony said gently, striving to comfort her. “Pregnancy makes dreams more vivid, especially if you’re stressed. Try not to read too much into them.”

Mary just smiled, her lips curving with bittersweet understanding. “Briony, you do care about me after all.”

Of course she cared. They were both women who’d survived unhappy childhoods, and Briony felt a kinship—a quiet solidarity with Mary.

“Mary, I know you’ve been through things I can’t even imagine. I misjudged you before and said some things I regret. I hope you won’t hold them against me. I’ve always thought you were brave, but with Ferdinand… you lost yourself in him. Still, you and your baby are innocent. Ferdinand’s sins are his alone. If you ever get the chance, I hope you’ll find the strength to leave him, take your child, and start over somewhere safe. You deserve a better life.”

Mary nodded, her eyes glistening with something unspoken. “Briony, I’ll do what you say.”

Briony was taken aback. She’d expected resistance, a need for more persuasion—but Mary had agreed so easily.

He’d been drinking heavily—she could tell by the glassiness in his eyes and the way he slurred his words.

But it wasn’t the comforting kind of drunkenness.

Tonight had been meant as a celebration, a pre-wedding dinner where Ferdinand, as the groom, hosted the heads of his various divisions.

He’d expected a chorus of congratulations and well-wishes.

Instead, led by Gifford, every single one of his trusted men had tried to talk him out of the wedding.

Their reasons were simple: it was too public, too risky. Gathering so many important figures in one place made them sitting ducks.

It was reckless—completely out of character for Ferdinand’s usually calculated approach.

And then there was Briony herself.

She was Stewart’s ex-wife. Even if Stewart was gone, who could say for sure what she might have learned during their marriage?

Not one man in the room had supported Ferdinand’s decision to go through with the wedding. Not one.