A Widow's Poison, A Wife's Rebellion novel Chapter 841

Starla left. She walked away so coldly, not even sparing Fairfax a second glance.

When she finally returned to the castle, she hadn't expected Herbert to still be waiting.

Seeing her walk through the doors, he let out a subtle breath, the tension leaving his shoulders. "You're back. Where did you go so late without a security detail? You didn't even pick up your phone."

Right as she had left earlier, Herbert had been tied up on a call. By the time he hung up and realized she had gone out alone, his heart had dropped. She was part of the Hoggart family now; she needed bodyguards whenever she stepped out.

Starla glanced at her screen, finally noticing the barrage of missed calls from him. Seeing the raw, unmistakable worry in his eyes, her mind flashed back to what Fairfax had just told her.

"You should go home," she said quietly. A thousand accusations rested on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed them all down, offering only that simple dismissal.

"Starla—"

"I'm tired. I'm going to bed." With that, she headed straight for the stairs.

But just as her foot hit the first step, his voice stopped her. "Did you go see Fairfax?"

Starla froze.

She slowly turned around, her gaze turning icy. "Given where we stand right now, I don't think you have the right to dictate my life."

She could do whatever she wanted! Herbert had absolutely no authority over her. With one sentence, she completely dismantled whatever fragile emotional connection they had painstakingly built back in Marina City. The closeness they had achieved had been shattered by the events of the past few weeks.

And in that split second of stiffness, she knew. Fairfax had told the truth.

"Is it true?" she whispered. The words were feather-light, but she already knew the answer. His deafening silence confirmed that Fairfax hadn't lied to her.

Her heart plummeted straight into the abyss. So that was their connection. If that was the case, then his promise of needing "one month" was nothing but a stalling tactic. One month was plenty of time for him to arrange everything.

What was he planning? Faking Brinley's death? Finding a scapegoat to go to prison while he shipped her off to live in luxury somewhere else? It wouldn't even take a month. Give a man like Herbert a week, and he could make anyone disappear without a trace.

"He was telling the truth, wasn't he?" she pushed again, her voice echoing in the quiet.

She really didn't need to ask. His reaction was all the answer she needed.