A Widow's Poison, A Wife's Rebellion novel Chapter 686

"When she was with me, she was the respected and untouchable Mrs. Yelchin..."

"Respected?"

Herbert's sharp interjection sliced through Fairfax's defense before he could even finish the sentence. The two men locked eyes, and a devastating sneer curled Herbert's lips.

"When she was with you, she was barely a human being, let alone 'Mrs. Yelchin.' Did she ever experience a single day of respect in your house?"

Fairfax's jaw clenched.

"Did anyone in the Yelchin family treat her with basic human decency?" Herbert demanded, his voice chillingly calm. "Did anyone in high society show her respect simply because she had your last name? The endless rumors, the constant mockery she endured while married to you... are you going to sit there and pretend you didn't know?"

Fairfax opened his mouth, but the words died in his throat. A suffocating weight pressed down on his chest.

Herbert's voice was soft, but every word felt like a brutal interrogation of Fairfax's soul.

He knew. Of course he knew.

"Every outsider who disrespected her ended up paying the price. You know that," Fairfax finally managed to choke out.

"Sure. You punished the outsiders," Herbert acknowledged smoothly. "But what about the psychological torture she endured? What about the trauma? That was entirely your fault."

Fairfax flinched.

It was his fault. In the beginning, whenever people whispered about Starla's background, they only did it when he wasn't around. The moment he found out, he ruthlessly destroyed them. He hadn't allowed the world to hurt her.

"Maybe you protected her from the public," Herbert continued, lighting a cigarette and taking a slow drag. "But what about your family? Your mother? Harriet Seabrook?"

Fairfax winced at the name.

"Harriet nearly killed Starla," Herbert stated, the smoke curling around his hardened features.

Finally, Herbert exhaled a plume of smoke and said quietly, "End it. Now."

Fairfax gritted his teeth.

End it? Just hand over his pride and walk away?

It was time to end things... but how?

Just then, Fairfax's phone vibrated on the table. It was Harley Yelchin. Fairfax didn't bother stepping away; he answered the call right in front of Herbert.

"Yeah."

"Give Yelchin Group to Starla."

The patriarch had finally cracked. Harley's voice over the speaker was freezing cold, trembling with a volatile mixture of profound exhaustion, hatred, and bitter resentment.