A Widow's Poison, A Wife's Rebellion novel Chapter 62

Starla’s eyes narrowed, the last flicker of hope dying within her. There was no point in talking to him anymore. They had argued countless times over Brinley in the last six months, and every time, he took the same stance. She had thought, for a moment, that his harsh words to Darleen meant he’d finally seen the light. But it was clear now he was just tired of dealing with Brinley’s supposed depression.

A man like him, born into privilege, could only tolerate Brinley’s drama for so long. But while his patience for Brinley had worn thin, he still refused to believe she had ever done anything to harm Starla. In his mind, Brinley was still the kind, gentle woman she’d always been, just… sick.

Fairfax flinched under Starla’s cold, dark gaze and made an effort to rein in his anger. “Brinley has been busy with the company,” he began, trying to sound patient. “She…”

“So, I’ve been the one making things up all this time, right? Unreasonable and delusional, just trying to frame her.” Starla’s voice was laced with cutting sarcasm. “And in Marina City, when the rumors about my own sister-in-law replacing me started to spread, I shouldn’t have released our marriage license. I was just being vain, refusing to let someone else be called your wife.”

Fairfax remained silent, his jaw tight.

“The miscarriage report was fake, too,” she continued, her voice chillingly calm. “I forged it so she would be forever branded a homewrecker, until the day she dies.”

“Starla!” Fairfax roared, his control finally snapping.

“And all those gifts you gave me? I gave them away willingly to suck up to your family. They never took anything from me. Is that right?”

“Stop it,” he ground out, a vein throbbing in his temple.

“It was all me. Everything I did, I did willingly. Is that the answer you wanted to hear?” She stared at him, her eyes like chips of ice. The more she spoke, the calmer her voice became, a terrifying stillness settling over her.

“I admit it,” she said, her gaze unwavering. “I’m the shameless woman you think I am. So let’s get a divorce.”

The mention of divorce again sent a fresh wave of fury through him. “Are you serious about this?” he demanded.

“Every word I’ve ever said to you has been true. Why would the divorce be any different?”

A heavy silence filled the room.

“So, let me get this straight,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “If I don’t agree to a divorce, you’ll just keep coming after her? What else do you have on her?”

Starla heard the threat in his voice and a slow, cruel smile spread across her face. He was asking what other dirt she had, hoping to buy her silence, just like he’d offered to pay her off when she threatened to sue Brinley. He wanted to throw money at the problem to make it go away for Brinley’s sake—buying evidence from his own wife.

“You’re mistaken,” she said softly. “The divorce is non-negotiable. But the score between her and me? That has nothing to do with whether or not I’m married to you.”

“Starla!” he thundered, utterly enraged by her refusal to back down.

Before he could say more, his phone rang. It was Darleen again. After a brief, tense exchange, Fairfax shot Starla a look of pure ice and said into the phone, “I’m on my way.”

“How strange,” she mused aloud. “Then why are Brinley’s pills in his first-aid kit?”

Brinley, like her, had iron-deficiency anemia and needed supplements. The box was half-empty. Did that mean Brinley was a frequent visitor to Fairfax’s office, taking her medication here? Or was it just an excuse for them to meet?

Gabriel felt a cold sweat break out on his back. “They must be from the last time she was here. She probably just left them behind.”

Starla shot him a look that said she didn’t believe a word of it, and Gabriel’s unease grew.

Finally, she stood up and, as she passed him, thrust the box of pills into his hand. “Don’t bother. I’m not going back to Petal Villa.”

“But, ma’am, Mr. Yelchin gave strict orders,” Gabriel pleaded. “He said a lawyer would meet you there to transfer the assets back into your name.”

“Those things,” she said, her voice flat, “can’t be returned.”

With that, she walked out of the office. Gabriel hurried after her, still determined to escort her to Petal Villa. But as they reached the entrance of the building, he could only watch in stunned silence as she stepped into a sleek, black Phantom—a car so exclusive that only two existed in all of Marina City. One belonged to Fairfax. The other belonged to Herbert.

Stunned that Herbert would send someone to pick her up so brazenly, Gabriel quickly pulled out his phone and sent a text to Fairfax.