Regretting the Wife He Threw Away novel Chapter 239

The air went still, thick with unspoken tension.

Scarlett turned slowly, her movements heavy and deliberate.

Their eyes met, and Briony felt her heart plummet.

Scarlett stared at her, disbelief etched deep into eyes still swollen and red from days of weeping.

“How is this possible…” Scarlett shook her head, let out a hollow, humorless laugh, then whipped around to glare at Quentin, her voice trembling with fury. “Why? Why is this about Bryn?”

Quentin just smiled, cold and unrepentant. “Because I can’t stand her,” he replied, his tone casual, almost flippant. “I don’t want to see Briony happy. So anyone close to her—anyone she cares about—I’ll make sure they pay for it.”

“That’s your reason?” Scarlett’s laugh broke apart into sobs, tears streaming down her face. “Quentin! I’ll kill you! You bastard—!”

Scarlett screamed and launched herself at Quentin, but a pair of officers caught her just in time, holding her back as she thrashed in their arms.

Quentin watched her unravel, then threw his head back and laughed, wild and triumphant.

It was too much for Scarlett. Her body crumpled, and she fainted dead away.

Ableson and the police hurried to get her to the hospital.

As Quentin was being led away to the holding cells, he fixed Briony with a chilling, venomous grin. Even with his hands cuffed, he managed to drag a finger across his throat in a grotesque, mocking threat.

James’s fists clenched at the sight; he looked ready to lunge, but Briony grabbed his arm, stopping him.

The two of them stepped out of the police station, James seething. “That Quentin is a real piece of work. All that charm—just a mask for a monster.”

Briony said nothing.

James paused, then glanced over his shoulder and realized she’d fallen behind, her head bowed, lost in thought.

He sighed. “Don’t let what Quentin said get to you. He was trying to provoke you, that’s all.”

Briony looked up, shaking her head. “It’s just… something about this doesn’t add up.”

“What do you mean?”

“I barely know Quentin—we’ve hardly ever spoken. His hatred for me is so… sudden.” She frowned, thinking aloud. “And he’s Rosita’s stepbrother.”

James’s eyes widened as the pieces began to fall into place. “You think this is about Rosita?”

“I’m not sure. We don’t have any proof.”

“I wouldn’t put it past them,” James muttered, stroking his chin. “But Quentin’s the heir to the Lockwood family. He runs the whole estate now. Would he really risk everything just to settle a score for Rosita?”

“That’s what I keep asking myself,” Briony replied. “They’re not even real siblings. Even if they were, how many brothers would throw away their future just to help their sister get revenge?”

“Good point…” James frowned. “It’s strange, isn’t it? The head of the Lockwoods, throwing his life away over something so… petty?”

Briony nodded. “Exactly. There has to be something else going on, something we don’t know.”

“If that’s true, then Rosita’s definitely not as simple as she looks. Should we—”

James was interrupted by Briony’s phone ringing.

She’d purposely switched off silent mode these past few days, terrified she might miss any news about Stella.