Regretting the Wife He Threw Away

Chapter 238 Lauren didn't say another word—she just headed straight upstairs.

Rosita watched her go, taking in the exaggerated sway of Lauren's hips with open contempt.

Who's the latest sugar daddy she's trying to reel in now? With a cold snort, Rosita turned and left the villa. "Zack, bring the car around. We're going to the station." Upstairs in her room, Lauren opened her contacts and hit redial.

The call was picked up almost immediately. "Mrs. Lockwood." "Mr. Prescott, sorry-I'd just put my phone in my purse and didn't see your call." "No trouble," Gavin replied, his voice calm and low. "The table's reserved. Should I send a driver for you, or...?" "Just textthe suite number. I'll get there myself." "Of course." He hung up, and a moment later, Gavin sent the address through.

Lauren read the message, a sly smile curling at her lips. She turned and disappeared into her walk-in closet.

Police Station.

Rosita had requested to see her brother as family.

In the visitation room, she and Quentin sat across from each other at a bare table.

"Quentin..." The moment Rosita spoke, her eyes filled with tears. "What's going on? How did this happen?" Quentin stared at her, his brown eyes reflecting the fragile innocence on her face. "Rosita, you shouldn't have chere." "But I was worried about you." She sniffled, struggling to hold back sobs. "Everyone's saying you're the one who hurt Dr. Joyner, but I don't believe it. You could never do something like that, right? It wasn't you, was it?" Quentin didn't answer.

Rosita watched him desperately, her tears spilling over. "Quentin, no matter what anyone else says, you'll always be the one I trust most in this world. Even if everyone turns against you, I'll always be on your side." His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, pain flickering in his gaze. "Rosita, you shouldn't care so much about me..." "I do." She blinked, her lashes trembling, her voice turning gentle and soft. "You savedwhen I was seventeen, do you remember? I owe my life to you." Quentin looked at her, frozen in place.

"Irwin's always saying what a wonderful uncle you are, how you took care of Mom. He says when he grows up, he wants to be just like you and protect us, too." She kept her eyes on him, her tone barely above a whisper. "Irwin will grow up strong, Stewart will take care of us, and you don't have to worry about us anymore." Quentin's expression flickered.

"You mean...?" He started to ask, as if he'd guessed something but wasn't sure.

"I know I'll never meet anyone who treatsthe way you have." Rosita cut him off gently. "But that seventeen- year-old girl you saved? She's all grown up now. She's happy. Before long, she'll be Stewart's bride, and she'll have the life you always wanted for her." For a moment, Quentin forgot to breathe, his pupils trembling. "Am I really that important to you?" "Yes." Rosita looked him straight in the eye, her tone unwavering. "You're my guardian angel." Quentin's breathing grew ragged. His hands, clasped together on the table, tightened so hard his knuckles cracked.

After a long pause, he lowered his head, as if coming to a decision, and let out a sigh that was almost a smile. "Rosita, meeting you in this life was enough for me." He looked up again, tenderness flooding his gaze. Rosita finally relaxed, a flicker of satisfaction in her eyes, though her face remained sweetly innocent. "Don't talk like that. Just cooperate with the investigation, okay? The truth will cout, and I know you'll be cleared soon." Quentin managed a gentle smile. "Go home, Rosita." "I'll stay a little longer." "Time's up." An officer stepped in, firm but polite. "Ms. Lockwood, please." Rosita stood up. "I'll csee you again soon." Quentin just waved. "Be happy, Rosita." She gave him a bright, reassuring smile. "I will, Quentin. I promise I'll be happy." Three days later, everything changed.

Quentin suddenly confessed.

He admitted he'd been the one to throw Stella into the river below the gorge.

When news broke, Ableson and Scarlett rushed to the police station in a panic.

By the tBriony and James arrived, they found Ableson and the usually composed Scarlett on the verge of attacking Quentin. "What did my daughter ever do to you?" Ableson shouted, his voice shaking with rage.

Scarlett, always the gentle, level-headed one, completely lost control. She lunged at Quentin, fists flying.

The officers tried to intervene, but perhaps out of pity for the grieving parents, they didn't put up much resistance.

Ableson landed a hard slap across Quentin's face.

Quentin's glasses clattered to the floor, and blood trickled from his mouth.

He slowly looked up, his gaze sliding past Ableson to settle on Briony, who had just arrived.

His brown eyes were cold as steel, glinting with a venomous chill.

And then-he smiled.

"You monster! How dare you smile!" Ableson roared, ready to hit him again. This time, the officers rushed to restrain him, worried things would get out of hand. "Mr. Joyner, we understand your feelings, but you need to calm down..." Quentin watched the chaos, almost amused.

"Do you want to know why?" he said, grinning as he slowly raised his.

om cuffed hands, pointing right past Ableson and Scarlett-straight at Nand Briony. "It's because of her. Stella had to die-because of her."