Regretting the Wife He Threw Away

Chapter 355 Her daughter's tiny fists rained down on him, light as falling raindrops-nothing that could possibly hurt.

Yet to Stewart, every little punch landed squarely on his heart.

He stared at his daughter in stunned silence, his grip on Briony's hand loosening bit by bit.

The forceful air he'd carried just moments ago had vanished completely.

Briony gently pulled her hand free and bent to scoop Little Nina into her arms.

Holding her daughter close, her voice gentle and soothing, Briony whispered, "Don't worry, Little Nina. Mommy's okay." Little Nina threw her arms tightly around Briony's neck, glaring fiercely at Stewart with all the indignation a four- year-old could muster. "A real gentleman never bullies a lady. Shon you!" Stewart watched his daughter, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.

He wanted to say something, to comfort her somehow, but Little Nina had already buried her angry face into the crook of Briony's neck.

"Mommy, I don't like him!" she declared, her voice trembling with both outrage and the threat of tears. Briony's heart ached.

Little Nina was usually so cheerful, so optimistic, but she was only four. Watching her parents argue-seeing things escalate-must have been terrifying for her.

Briony couldn't help but feel a stab of guilt for letting her temper get the better of her and scaring her child. She stroked her daughter's back tenderly, fixing Stewart with a cold stare. "You should leave. Don't cto Skybreeze Retreat again." Stewart pressed his lips together, his dark eyes locked on Briony.

After a moment, he gave a low, defeated reply. "Alright." Briony turned away, carrying her daughter inside.

Little Mastood frozen at the doorway.

As Briony passed, she spoke softly to him, "Little Mario, it's getting late. Let's go upstairs and get ready for bed." Little Manodded, glancing back at Stewart before hurrying after Briony.

Stewart watched his son's small figure retreat, his fists clenching helplessly at his sides.

That night, Little Maslept with Briony and Little Nina again.

Just like last time, Briony lay in the middle, an arm wrapped gently around each child.

Tonight, she read them a bedtstory.

The two little ones listened, captivated.

When she finished, Briony turned off the lamp. "Alright now, close your eyes and go to sleep." "Mommy, letsing the lullaby tonight!" Little Nina piped up, all traces of the earlier scene forgotten. Children, after all, have short memories.

Now she was determined to fulfill her big-sisterly duties by singing her brother to sleep.

Briony smiled. "Alright, tonight you can sing the lullaby for your brother." Little Maclapped his hands in delight.

Briony hugged him a little closer. He'd becmuch more outgoing lately- especially after their recent ttogether. It was a wonderful change.

In the dim room, Little Nina's sweet, childish voice floated through the air.

She only got through a few lines before nodding off herself.

It was par for the course-Briony was used to it.

Little Mario, however, was still wide awake.

So Briony took over, singing a gentle lullaby until Little Mafinally closed his eyes and drifted off.

In his dreams, it felt as if he saw his mother.

She held him, humming softly, and he called out to her, joyful. "Mommy..." In the silence, his small voice murmured in his sleep.

Briony started, then realized he was calling for his mother.

She looked down, catching Little Mario's peaceful face by the moonlight filtering through the window.

He was deeply asleep, a faint smile curving his lips-he must have been having a beautiful dream. Briony's heart melted.

Such a sweet, gentle child... and yet he'd never known a mother's embrace from the moment he was born. Her thoughts drifted to her own son so fragile, so tiny, who'd never even felt his mother's arms before he was gone.

Her breath caught. She bent to kiss Little Mario's forehead and whispered, "Sleep well, little one. You're safe now." Rosita had spent three days learning the fiddle from Gwendolyn White and could barely eke out a melody. Gwendolyn shook her head, declaring Rosita hopelessly unmusical-learning a song in a week was out of the question.

Bill, seeing this, didn't push her. He just asked Rosita to master the basic posture and a few facts about the fiddle.

Gwendolyn devoted another day to explaining the instrument's history and the basics of the mandolin as well. For the remaining two days, Bill told Rosita to stay hand focus on her script.

Rosita agreed in words only. The moment she returned to Lunar Heights Estate, she headed straight upstairs for a long bath.

Afterward, she slipped into a silk slip dress and strolled down to her private htheater, feeling refreshed.

She picked out a movie, uncorked a bottle of red wine, e, and stretched out on a luxury massage recliner-worth more than most people's cars enjoying the film and the wine in equal measure.

Script study was the last thing on her mind.

Why stress, when the company's top boss was determined to make her a star? Acting diligent was enough for appearances' sake.

Rosita's slender fingers twirled the stem of her wineglass swiding the crimson liquid with idle grace. The e content is on novelenglish.net! Daisy pushed open the door and stepped in. "Rosita, Ms. Lynn is here again." At that, Rosita's hand paused. She replied coolly, "Tell her I'm not home." "I did, but she doesn't believe me," Daisy sighed. "She said that if you don't see her today, she'll leak your secret from when you were seventeen to the tabloids." Rosita froze, then sat up abruptly.

She frowned at Daisy. "Bring her in. Now." Just moments ago, she was the picture of lazy elegance. Now, her hand trembled around the wineglass as anxiety overtook her.

Daisy didn't know exactly what was going on, but from Rosita's reaction, it was did have something Lauren really c on her. Cons A secret from when she was seventeen? Daisy turned and walked out, muttering to herself as she went, "What could Rosita's big secret at seventeen possibly be?"