Regretting the Wife He Threw Away novel Chapter 352

"Holy crap!" James shot to his feet, eyes wide with surprise. "It really is you!"

Briony nodded. "Yeah. Honestly, if I hadn't seen that competition video of Ottilie, I probably would have forgotten all about it."

"Forgotten what?"

"I started writing my own music when I was about twelve or thirteen. My grandfather bought me a notebook, and I filled it with all my compositions—probably a dozen or so. After Grandpa passed away, the Kensingtons took me back in, and I brought the notebook with me."

James settled back onto the couch, still processing. "So… Ottilie stole your notebook?"

"When the Kensingtons kicked me out, they wouldn't let me take a single thing—not even my clothes. Of course the notebook stayed behind."

James frowned. "Then Ottilie must have only found it recently. If the Kensingtons were as ambitious as we know they are, and they wanted to use your music to make Ottilie famous, why wait until now?"

"That's what I thought too," Briony replied. "Ottilie probably noticed Rosita's comeback lately and used the notebook to negotiate a deal with her. That's how their collaboration happened."

"Unbelievable. They've got some nerve," James muttered, still indignant. "So what are you going to do? You can't just let Rosita and Ottilie get away with stealing your work."

"Of course not," Briony said with a small, confident smile. "But there's no rush. I'll wait until the day Ottilie wins the final. That's when I'll expose both of them myself."

"I like that plan," James said, nodding. "But how will you prove those songs are yours?"

"They're my songs. Trust me, I have ways," Briony replied, her lips curling into a sly smile. "Don't worry, I've already got it all planned out."

"Alright. If you're that confident, I'll stop worrying."

…

By five o'clock that evening, Briony and James made their way back to Skybreeze Retreat.

Stewart had already arrived.

He'd brought along a chef he'd hired from a five-star hotel—a true culinary professional.

Stewart was hosting dinner tonight; from ingredients to the cooking itself, he'd arranged everything personally.

James was speechless.

Garry held little Mario in his arms and gently nudged him. "Mario, be polite and greet Mr. Delaney, or no dinner for you tonight."

Mario's big, dark eyes flicked to James. He blinked once, then piped up, "Hello, Mr. Delaney."

James looked at that sweet, innocent face and just couldn't bring himself to be stern.

He reached over and ruffled Mario's hair. "That's a good boy. Little Nina's over there—go play with her!"

Mario looked up at Garry for confirmation.

Garry smiled, crouched down, and set the child on the floor.

As soon as his feet touched the ground, little Mario dashed straight for Little Nina—