Regretting the Wife He Threw Away

Chapter 632

Ferdinand knew it was Gifford who had told everyone that Briony was Stewart's ex-wife.

He looked at Gifford and smiled, a cold glint in his eyes.

The next moment, Gifford let out a muffled grunt and dropped to one knee, blood gushing from his thigh.

The bullet was lodged in the bone, and Ferdinand didn't hesitate to dig it out himself with his combat knife.

He pressed the bloodied bullet into Gifford's trembling hand, his own palm slick with blood. Then he patted Gifford's pale, sweat-soaked face as if he were soothing a child.

"I told you before, I don't like anyone telling me how to handle my business."

Gifford kept his head down, teeth clenched against the pain. "Mr. Ellsworth, I was wrong."

No one else dared so much as breathe.

In the end, the wedding would proceed just as Ferdinand wished-grand, extravagant, impossible to ignore.

Everyone thought he'd lost his mind, but no one dared oppose him. They could only follow along, caught in the wake of his madness.

At the reception afterward, Ferdinand raised his glass and drank with each of the heads of the family, one by one.

Every last one of them met his toast, offering hollow congratulations.

There were plenty of people present, but Ferdinand didn't let a single one off the hook. By the end of the round, he'd downed more than his fair share.

Now, thoroughly drunk, he cast aside any restraint. All he wanted in that moment was to hold Briony close, to feel her warmth, to be near her.

course, and recoiled at his

god knows where. Who knows what germs you're carrying? Are you trying to make sure I drop dead before

hesitated, caught off

herself up tightly, her eyes burning with anger. "You're drunk.

his eyes red from the alcohol, but a hint

you're looking forward to

he thought, or you wouldn't be this worried about something happening to you before it

looking forward to it," Briony said, holding his gaze, her

press a gentle kiss

over in an instant-so quick that Briony

straightened and said, "Get some

watched as he

behind him, and quiet

eyes, exhaling slowly in

God I'm sick, she thought. If I were healthy, I might

week, Ferdinand was busier

maids had arrived to help with the wedding preparations—all

all struggling with English.

nearly impossible to communicate with

Ferdinand still didn't

Not that Briony cared.

most of her days

left in, weeks of constant infusions had left both her hands bruised and

herbal concoctions never stopped either. Briony had become a

before the wedding, her nosebleeds

Her leukemia was progressing