Regretting the Wife He Threw Away

Chapter 263

Chapter 267

Rosita told Daisy to wait for her outside the Antiquarian Society with the car running.

When she emerged, she slid into the back seat and said, "Take me straight to the airport."

Daisy gaped at her in shock. "Rosita, are you leaving the country?"

Rosita, already rummaging through her bag for a change of clothes, began slipping out of her current outfit. "I've wrapped up all my scenes with the production," she explained, pulling on a simple, elegant dress. "I want to study abroad for a while, and the agency worked everything out. I'll probably be gone for a year or two."

"Two years?" Daisy's surprise turned to dismay, and her hands tightened on the steering wheel. "But what about me...?"

"Talk to Jean," Rosita said, fastening her dress. "I've already spoken to her. She'll have you assist with some of the other clients for now. When I get back, you'll come work with me again."

Daisy's face brightened with relief. She'd grown fond of working with Rosita, and the idea that they'd be reunited someday made everything easier to bear.

Rosita tossed her old clothes into a bag.

At the airport, she said her goodbyes to Daisy, then turned and strode inside without looking back.

In the private terminal, Garry's right-hand man, Larson, was waiting for her.

"Ms. Lockwood," Larson greeted her with a slight bow. "Mr. Ferguson arranged a private jet. We'll be flying straight to Westenmar."

Rosita handed him the bag with her clothes. "Find someone to donate these for me."

Larson took the bag with a nod. "Understood."

Rosita slipped on a pair of sunglasses. "Let's go."

Larson led her inside.

minutes later, the jet was climbing smoothly

on her lips. She thought the

wine and set the glass aside. From her purse, she withdrew a psychology book, leaned back, and began to read,

off their own flight

Lockwood hurt her hand, so the last close-up is being

it," Carl replied. "Keep an eye on things and update us right away

and relayed

was with Gwendolyn and the rest; there shouldn't be any trouble. Still, an uneasy

Antiquarian Society.

said, and jogged to the parking lot to

Stewart's anxiety

it,"

didn't know what was fueling Stewart's

the

had barely parked when

words

expression changed.

the distance, sirens wailed,

He didn't

crowd had already

him, paramedics rushed in, pushing a stretcher. "Make way! Step aside,

was thick with chaos-shouting,

by the crowd, the large man stumbling

onlookers parted, Stewart saw it: blood everywhere, bright against the

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