A Widow's Poison, A Wife's Rebellion novel Chapter 11

“That was yesterday, but what about two years ago? Why did you come after me then?” Starla demanded.

Two years ago, Faraday was still alive. Had Brinley been plotting to get with Fairfax even then?

Brinley looked at Starla, her gaze dropping slightly. “That’s not for you to ask.”

That response was all the confirmation Starla needed. So Brinley had started coveting Fairfax even when his brother was still alive.

“Don’t be so resentful, Starla,” Brinley said. “Someone of your station should never have married into the Yelchin family in the first place.”

The phrase ‘your station’ dripped with contempt, painting Starla as nothing more than an ant she could crush without a second thought.

Starla scoffed at Brinley’s arrogance. “Has Fairfax told you?”

“Told me what?”

“That I’m taking back the exclusive rights to the Draken Haven project.”

At the mention of Draken Haven, Brinley’s expression froze for a moment before she burst into a derisive laugh. “You? Take it back? How? With your so-called ‘legal weapons’?”

The arrogance was astounding. Starla’s eyes turned to ice as she stared at Brinley, who continued, “With your background, I could make you disappear without a trace. I suggest you drop whatever pathetic little schemes you’re cooking up. They won’t work on me, and pissing me off will only make things worse for you.”

Brinley’s voice was a cold, sharp threat. Her eyes were dangerous as she delivered her ultimatum. “Divorce Fairfax. Leave Marina City and never come back. This is the one and only time I’ll ask you nicely.”

With that, Brinley turned her wheelchair toward the door.

“I’ve never seen such an audacious mistress,” Starla’s cold voice stopped her.

Most mistresses knew to keep their heads down, but Brinley, with her powerful mother behind her, clearly felt invincible.

Brinley’s wheelchair halted. She looked back at Starla, a cruel smile twisting her lips. “Mistress? Who in Marina City even knows you exist as Mrs. Yelchin?”

The jab was laced with irony, an irony Starla felt keenly herself.

“Starla, what are you doing? I was just…” she began, her voice trembling with manufactured hurt. Slap! Slap!

Two more strikes landed on her face before she could finish. Starla had used all her strength, and the force of the three slaps left Brinley’s head ringing.

Fairfax’s blood boiled. “Starla, what the hell are you doing?”

Brinley clutched her face, tears welling in her eyes as she looked at him, her voice a choked sob. “Fairfax…”

He rushed forward and grabbed Starla’s raised wrist. “Have you lost your mind?”

Starla wrenched her arm free. “My mind? I’m just collecting some interest in advance.”

With that, her other hand shot out, slapping Fairfax across the face before she backhanded Brinley again.

The entire room seemed to ignite with rage.