Regretting the Wife He Threw Away novel Chapter 685

Briony had been about to leave when she noticed Stewart moving toward the woman surrounded by reporters.

She stopped in her tracks, watching as Stewart crossed the floor, step by step, until he stood at the woman’s side.

The woman had a striking bob and a pair of sunglasses perched on her nose.

As Stewart reached her, she slipped her arm naturally through his and, with her free hand, removed her sunglasses.

An exquisite, coldly beautiful face was revealed to the crowd.

Looking straight at the reporters, she exuded an unshakeable confidence; her gaze was cool and commanding, yet her crimson lips were curved in a flawless, practiced smile.

“I’d hoped to introduce my fiancé to you all at a more suitable occasion,” she said, her voice clear and ringing. “But since you’re all so curious, I suppose now is as good a time as any—this is Mr. Wentworth, the man I am about to marry.”

The crowd exploded.

“Mr. Wentworth?! Didn’t he die in that accident last year?”

“It’s really Stewart—the former CEO of The Wentworth Group… Xenia Cooper’s fiancé is actually him?”

Briony stared, frozen.

The barrage of reporters, Xenia’s public announcement, Stewart’s silent acquiescence—

Suddenly, the past few days made sense. Stewart’s constant busyness… The “partner” he’d mentioned must have been Ms. Cooper.

On New Year’s Eve, he’d rushed back home—before that, was he with Ms. Cooper?

No wonder he’d said, “It’s a personal matter.”

Spending time with his fiancée certainly qualified.

Briony couldn’t even describe how she felt.

After the initial shock faded, reality crashed in: even if Stewart remarried, it had nothing to do with her.

They were divorced now; they could each choose whomever they wished. Stewart moving on was only natural.

…

Briony dropped her gaze and turned away, heading straight for the exit.

The moment she turned, Stewart caught sight of her.

His pupils contracted.

Bryn? What is she doing here?

Did she see everything?

As Stewart watched Briony’s retreating figure, panic gnawed at him.

The woman at his side tugged his arm sharply, snapping his attention back. He looked down, frowning.

Xenia Cooper tilted her head, her height—amplified by heels—allowing her to lean in close. “There are a dozen reporters here. Are you trying to embarrass me?”

Stewart’s brows drew together.

Within a heartbeat, he schooled his features back to their usual cool indifference.

A microphone was shoved toward him. “Mr. Wentworth, is it true you and Ms. Cooper are getting married?”

He glanced at the reporter, his eyes icy. “Yes.”

Another question was forming, but Xenia cut in smoothly, “If you keep pressing, that would be impolite. The official date will be released on the group’s website in a few days, so please, let us through.”

At her words, a team of uniformed security guards appeared and pushed the reporters back.

Arm in arm, Xenia and Stewart walked toward the parking lot, camera flashes tracking their every move.

In the underground garage, Xenia’s assistant Amy waited in a black town car.

Xenia and Stewart climbed in; the doors shut.

Amy glanced at them in the rearview mirror. “Ms. Cooper, should I take you to the headquarters or home first?”