Dear ex-Wife please be mine again

Chapter 47

Bianca’s POV

I paced back and forth in the slightly dark room, my heels clicking against the polished marble floor. The cold, calculated fury boiling inside me was barely contained as I waited for those incompetent fools to show up. My fingers drummed impatiently against the side of the chair, my mind racing with thoughts of how everything had gone wrong. How could they mess up something so simple?

The door creaked open, and two men stepped in, their heads bowed slightly as they faced my wrath. I could see the fear in their eyes, but it wasn’t enough to quell the rage that surged through me. I had expected more, much more. Instead, I got

failure.

“You idiots,” I hissed, my voice dripping with venom. “You had one job. One–Job.”

The taller of the two shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting nervously to the other man as if searching for a way out. But there was no escape from this. Not now. Not after they had failed me so miserably.

“Miss Bianca, we- he began, but I cut him off with a sharp wave of my hand.

“Don’t you dare try to explain this away!” I snapped, my voice rising as the fury consumed me. “How could you screw up something so simple? A fire, for God’s sake! Christiana should’ve been burned alive! Those brats of hers should’ve been screaming in terror as the flames engulfed them! But no, she’s got a twisted ankle, and they’re all perfectly fine!”

I didn’t care. I wanted them to feel the full weight of my anger, to understand just how badly they had messed this up. My

money to make sure Christiana never walked out of that house. Yet here

the shorter one dared to speak, but the glare I shot him made him

do everything. I sneered, stepping closer to them, the distance between us closing until they could feel the heat of my

of their failure sinking in. Good. They needed to understand just how serious this was. I wasn’t paying them for half–assed attempts. I was paying

was ruined because you two imbeciles couldn’t do the simplest thing right!” I continued, my voice cold and biting. “Do you have any idea how close I was

say or do. It was pathetic, really. To think I had put my trust–and my money–into their hands. I should’ve known better, should’ve taken

and the same old problems. The

I demanded, my tone icy. “How did this happen? How could

to find the words to justify his incompetence. “The fire started as planned, but there were

known! You should’ve planned for every contingency! I

there, silent, their heads bowed, not daring to meet my gaze. Pathetic. Absolutely

I finally spat, unable to look at them

of the room like the vermin they were, leaving me alone with my