Dear Ex-Wife Please Be Mine Again (Christina and Alex) novel Chapter 191

Chapter 191 Bianca's POV

The headline stared back at me from the screen of my phone...

Daniel Brooks w a s dead.

The weight of it should have hit me harder, but instead, I felt calmness settle over me. I had known this was coming.

Daniel Brooks had been a liability for too long, and Madam Margret Alistair didn't tolerate liabilities. She had silenced him before he could open his mouth in court and spill every sordid detail about their partnership.

"Bianca!" Claire's voice cut through the sound of crashing waves. I looked up to see her perched on the makeup chair, her legs crossed, sunglasses propped on top of her head. She waved a hand in front of my face, her green juice sloshing dangerously in her grip. "Are you even listening to me?"

I wordlessly turned my phone screen toward her.

Claire leaned forward, squinting at the headline. "Daniel Brooks?

Dead?" Her voice climbed an octave. "How the hell does someone get poisoned in custody? Isn't that, like, impossible?"

I leaned back in the chair, crossing my legs casually. "Not if you're Madam Margret Alistair."

Her mouth fell open, and she sat there, stunned. "Are you saying she…. she did this? Why?"

"Because he knew too much," | said, my voice calm, like I was explaining the weather. "The kidnapping, the threats, trying to force Christiana out of Alex's life...Daniel wasn't working alone. He was doing her dirty work. And now, he's dead because she didn't want him talking."

Claire's hands trembled as she set the juice down. "Madam Margret Alistair... God, that woman scares me."

I tilted my head, a sly smile playing on my lips. "She's brilliant, Claire. Ruthless, yes, but brilliant. She saw a loose end and cut it clean before it could unravel."

Claire's face was of disbelief and unease. "But poisoning someone in jail? That's... next level. How could she even pull that off?"

I shrugged, though I knew exactly how. "When you have her resources, her connections, you can do anything. People like her don't just think ahead...they're already five steps past everyone else."

Claire leaned back in her chair, shaking her head. "It's terrifying how she operates. And Daniel... he really was that stupid, wasn't he? Thinking he could use her and get away with it."

"Daniel wasn't smart," | replied coldly. "He was desperate. There's a difference."

Claire's eyes flickered with worry. "This doesn't bother you? That she can just... kill someone like it's nothing?"

I didn't answer immediately. Instead, I scrolled back to the headline, studying it as if the words would give me more answers.

It wasn't about being bothered. It was about opportunity.

"Bianca?" Claire pressed, her voice tinged with concern.

I looked up, meeting her gaze with a calm smile. "I have something else in mind."

Her brows shot up. "What does that mean? Bianca, you're not seriously thinking of..."

"Relax, Claire," | interrupted, my tone light but firm. "I know what I'm doing."

She exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You're unbelievable, you know that?"

"Thank you," I said, rising gracefully as the photographer gestured for me.

As I walked across the sand toward the set, the sea breeze tugging at my hair, my thoughts churned. Madam Margret Alistair thought she had cleaned up her mess, but I knew better. She didn't u n d e r s t a n d m e .

Daniel's death wasn't just a message...it was an opening. And I was ready to walk right through it.

I tapped my nails on the edge of the glass table, each click echoing in the quiet of the room. My phone lay in front of me, the screen glowing with a number I hadn't dialed in months. Madam Margret Alistair's private line.

The phone rang twice before her cool, poised voice c a m e through.

"Bianca"" she said, a hint of surprise slipping past her usual control. "What a pleasant surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

I smirked, leaning back in my chair. "Let's not pretend, Margret.

You know why I'm calling."

There was a pause, the kind that stretched just long enough to make lesser people squirm. Not me.