Regretting the Wife He Threw Away novel Chapter 391

Bill looked utterly helpless. "Come on, Rosita, you called me out of the blue saying you needed a place to stay. I did my best—just try to make do for now, okay?"

"I don't care!" Rosita shot back, jaw clenched. "I want a hotel. A presidential suite!"

Bill arched an eyebrow. "Are you sure about that? With your current popularity, you'd have to book a five-star hotel—those suites go for, what, ten grand a night? Do you even have that kind of money right now?"

Rosita fell silent, lips pressed tight.

"Just bear with it a little," Bill said, unfazed. "I already called a cleaning service; they'll be here this afternoon. After a good scrub, the place will be perfectly comfortable. Trust me."

Rosita glared daggers at him.

Unbothered, Bill gave her a zen-like pat on the shoulder. "It's only temporary. Take some time, get yourself together. You don't have any events coming up anyway—think of this as a little retreat. Gotta run, I've got things to do."

And with that, he slipped out the door before she could protest.

Rosita stared at the drab apartment, seething. She was ready to explode, but with Daisy still there, all she could do was grit her teeth and hold it in.

Daisy tried to reassure her. "Don't worry, Rosita. You're amazing—this is just a rough patch. Take a seat, relax. I'll handle your things."

Rosita looked at Daisy, closed her eyes, and let her voice soften. "Thank you, Daisy. I never expected you'd be the only one to truly stand by me."

Daisy's heart ached for her. Seeing her idol brought so low felt like a cruel joke.

"They're the ones in the wrong, Rosita! I know you'll bounce back—talent always finds its place. You're going to turn it all around, I just know it!"

Rosita managed a faint smile. "Let's hope so."

"You will!" Daisy grinned and flashed her a thumbs-up. "Rosita, believe in yourself!"

Rosita had no patience for Daisy's naive pep talk. Glancing at the time, she said, "I need to head out for a bit. Can you finish unpacking for me?"

"Of course."

Rosita grabbed her suitcase and left.

Now, seeing Rosita walk in, Madeline smothered her with concern and endless small talk.

Rosita forced a polite smile, playing along with the old lady's performance, until she finally found a moment to excuse herself. "I need to go over some things for the competition with Ottilie. Do you mind if we have a little privacy?"

Madeline didn't dare keep them a second longer.

…

In Ottilie's room, Rosita popped open her suitcase.

Ottilie's eyes went wide at the sight of all that jewelry. "What's all this?"

"I need to sell it to you." Rosita grabbed her hand, desperate. "This lot is worth millions, but just give me half a million. That's all I need!"

Ottilie stared at her, stunned. "Where am I supposed to get half a million dollars?"

Rosita frowned. "You're the Kensington heiress. You're famous now, too—don't tell me you can't scrape together that kind of cash!"