Regretting the Wife He Threw Away novel Chapter 437

“He wants Rosita for nothing more than revenge,” Stewart said in a low voice. “As for Irwin, that’s because I haven’t told him the truth yet.”

Cedric Clarke hesitated for a moment before the realization hit him.

“You mean Garry still thinks Irwin is Randolph’s son?”

“That’s right,” Stewart replied quietly. “At least until I get my son back, Irwin’s parentage needs to stay a secret.”

Cedric understood.

Garry was determined to take Irwin because he believed Irwin was Randolph’s child.

Put simply, if Irwin wasn’t Randolph’s son, then in Garry’s eyes, Irwin would be worthless.

And if Irwin lost his value, Stewart’s chances of getting his own son back would plummet.

Suddenly, Stewart turned away, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket to stifle a cough.

Cedric stepped closer, watching his profile intently. “Are you still coughing up blood?”

Stewart clenched the handkerchief in his fist, his expression cold. “No.”

“Don’t lie to me, Stewart.”

Cedric tried to snatch the handkerchief, but Stewart dodged him.

“Go home and look after the kids,” Stewart said with a frown, clearly dismissing him. “I’m fine.”

“Did you stop taking your medication again?”

Stewart pressed his lips together in silence.

Cedric, seeing his reaction, was so exasperated he nearly lost his temper.

“Are you trying to kill yourself?”

“There are things you don’t need to know, Cedric,” Stewart said, meeting his gaze with a steady seriousness. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Cedric let out a frustrated sigh. “Fine. I can’t control you, you lunatic. But let me remind you—you have a son and a daughter now. Even if you don’t care about yourself, you owe it to your children to take care of yourself. Your relationship with Briony might be over, but you’re still their father. That’s not going to change.”

“You and Briony may be finished, but your responsibilities as a father aren’t. For their sake, take care of yourself. Don’t throw your life away.”

Stewart said nothing.

Cedric knew his words probably wouldn’t sink in. Stewart was never the type to listen to anyone’s advice.

“When are you heading to Westenmar?”

“Tomorrow.”