Regretting the Wife He Threw Away novel Chapter 46

Stewart slipped one hand into his pocket, his sharp gaze lowered as he looked at Rosita. His voice was calm but distant. “Go home and get some rest.”

With that, he closed the car door.

The sound wasn’t loud or abrupt, but it startled Rosita so much that she sat frozen for several seconds before she snapped out of it.

The car was already moving. She rolled down the window and craned her neck to look for Stewart, but all she caught was the back of him stepping into the elevator.

“Carl, stop the car.”

Carl was Stewart’s longtime personal assistant—sharp, discreet, and always attuned to Stewart’s moods.

Tonight, Stewart was clearly not in a good place.

Glancing at her in the rearview mirror, Carl spoke gently but firmly. “Ms. Lockwood, Mr. Wentworth made it clear—my job is to see you home safe. Please don’t make this difficult for me.”

At that, Rosita lowered her head and clenched her hands in her lap, silent.

…

Inside the neon-lit private lounge, Briony stood alone—slender, upright, and out of place.

Ten shot glasses lined the table in front of her, filled with everything from vodka to whiskey to sickly-sweet cocktails.

Across from her, Mack sprawled in the center of the couch, legs crossed, arms draped around two women. His smirk was pure arrogance. “You finish all those drinks, and I’ll talk to you. Or, since we’re family, I’ll give you a second option.”

Briony wasn’t a drinker, and the room was packed with rich, reckless young men. If she downed those shots, she knew things would only spiral further out of her control.