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."

helpless smile, he shook his head. "It's

lowered her gaze, her expression tightening with

the outside world, all they could

58th floor, Fred and Stewart-father and son-were facing each other for the first time in twenty-five years. There was no

sharp black suit, his hair perfectly

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

the imposing desk, his gaze cold as he

I call you Fred, or would you prefer

No respect

and contempt-the same look he'd

you remember exist. But the man I called father died years ago. I was seven when I carried his portrait, knelt at his grave,

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

made no attempt to hide his intentions. The hatred

sitting opposite him wasn't his son

could do or say would ever

about

Fred had come begging for help, Stewart