Regretting the Wife He Threw Away

Chapter 509

Briony pulled out her phone and turned on the flashlight.

"There's no signal," she said, glancing over at Carl.

Carl was already tapping at his own phone, but his efforts were just as futile-no bars, not even a flicker.

He raised his phone, shining its light at the elevator's camera. His expression was grim. "The whole car's lost power."

It was the height of summer. In a sealed elevator with no electricity, if no one found them soon, they could easily pass out from lack of air in a matter of hours.

"Carl, this isn't some random malfunction." Briony met Carl's eyes, her certainty unwavering. "Someone doesn't want me at that board meeting."

Carl knew there was no point in hiding the truth anymore. Briony wouldn't believe him if he tried.

He let out a heavy sigh. "Ms. Kensington, I'm sorry. I should've anticipated this. I've dragged you into it."

"This isn't your fault." Briony closed her eyes for a moment, collecting herself. "Right now, you should be worrying whether Stewart can handle that board meeting alone."

Then, with a helpless smile, he

gaze, her expression

they could do now was wait

office on the 58th floor, Fred and Stewart-father and son-were facing each other for the first time in

in a sharp black suit, his hair perfectly

the past twenty-five years, he clearly hadn't

sat behind the imposing desk, his gaze cold as he

I call you Fred,

you? No respect for your elders." Fred's eyes were

same

years ago. I was seven when I carried his portrait, knelt at his grave, and said may goodbyes. As far

only sitting here because of me. If you don't want to acknowledge me as your father, I couldn't care less. But I'm taking

to hide his intentions.

the man sitting opposite him wasn't his son at all,

if nothing Fred could do or say

hated that about him most

had come begging for help, Stewart