Regretting the Wife He Threw Away novel Chapter 263

The Lockwood Family Arson Shocks High Society—Again!

The Lockwood family estate fire sent shockwaves through the upper circles once more. When the police launched their investigation, they discovered, in addition to Saul and several of the family’s staff, a charred, unidentified body among the ashes.

DNA tests soon confirmed the grim truth: the body belonged to Neal, the fugitive who’d been on the run for weeks.

Security footage later revealed that the arsonist was, in fact, Neal himself.

But Neal had no known grievances with the Lockwoods—so why target their home?

For days, the Lockwood family arson became the single hottest topic among Northborough’s elite. With Saul dead, the head of the family title passed—undisputed—to Barrie. In just two months, Barrie had gone from an unremarkable illegitimate son to the powerful new master of the Lockwood estate.

Whispers spread through high society, suggesting Barrie was anything but simple. Some claimed everything that had happened to the Lockwoods recently had been orchestrated by Barrie himself. The story gained traction throughout the business community, and many began to treat Barrie with wary respect, if not outright suspicion.

The police, too, made Barrie a person of interest. Yet after a week of investigation, they found nothing to implicate him.

Since Neal was a career criminal, the authorities concluded that he’d set the fire for financial gain but lost control of the blaze, ultimately dying in the flames himself.

With that, the case was officially closed.

As the new head of the family, Barrie arranged a grand funeral for Saul. On the day of the service, Lauren wept uncontrollably, eventually collapsing and being rushed to the hospital.

When Lauren woke up, Rosita had just returned with her medical report.

“Rosita,” Lauren murmured weakly.

Her fainting spell hadn’t been an act—she’d genuinely passed out. Sure, the show of grief was for appearances, but even performative sobbing was exhausting.

Now, though she was awake, her head still spun and her limbs felt heavy as lead. Lying in the hospital bed, face pale and eyes swollen from crying, Lauren finally looked her age—worn and fragile.

Rosita, watching her, couldn’t help but feel a trace of satisfaction.

She walked over and handed Lauren the report. “Mom, take a look at this.”

Lauren frowned, forcing herself upright, and took the paper. When her eyes landed on the word “HIV,” she stared in disbelief.

“This… this can’t be—”