It was past midnight when the car rolled into Lunar Heights Estate.


    A sleek ck Bentley was already parked in the driveway.


    Rosita''s face hardened the moment she caught sight of the license te.


    The Bentley''s window slid down, and Garry''s piercing gaze found her in the shadows.


    Rosita tightened her grip on her purse.


    "Daisy, pull into the garage and go inside ahead of me."


    Daisy nodded. "Sure."


    Rosita stepped out of the car and shut the door behind her.


    Garry had already gotten out. He leaned against his car, lighting a cigar with practiced ease.


    In the dim light, his lips curled around the cigar, eyes narrowed in that familiar, almost contemptuous way as he regarded Rosita.


    She met his stare, her voice soft. "Have you been waiting long?"


    Garry took the cigar between his fingers. "Where were you?"


    "I went to see the Lockwoods," Rosita answered quietly.


    She knew better than to lie to him outright. Garry''s background with the peacekeeping forces and his connections on both sides of thew meant he could track her every move if he wanted to. The safest lies were always half-truths.


    "My mother wanted fifty million from me." Rosita kept her voice low. "I don''t have that kind of money, so I had to ask Barrie Lockwood for help."


    "Barrie?" Garry''s brow arched.


    "Yeah."


    "He agreed?"


    Rosita nodded. "He''s actually quite kind."


    At that, Garry gave a short, coldugh. "Rosita, you really think you don''t know what kind of man he is?"


    She froze, caught off-guard.


    Garry clearly had no interest in the drama. "I came here to ask you something."


    "What is it?"


    "Next week is Randolph''s anniversary."


    Rosita''s mind went nk for a moment.


    She''dpletely forgotten.


    Garry''s gaze sharpened. "You really didn''t remember?"


    "No..... I just....." She shivered beneath his stare. "Did you want me to take you to see Randolph?"


    "In the past, I was always abroad, so I had an excuse not to go. But this arm here in Northborough. It''s only right."


    "But," Rosita hesitated, careful, "only Stewart knows where Randolph''s grave is."


    Garry looked genuinely surprised. "You don''t know, either?"


    Rosita shook her head. "Stewart''s never taken me there."


    Garry snorted. "Stewart is unbelievable."


    Rosita lowered her eyes, her voice catching. Don''t me him. I think he just didn''t want me dwelling on the pain of losing Randolph. Maybe that''s why he kept it from me all these years."


    "Ask Stewart," Garry said, his tone brooking no argument. "You''ve got three days.


    I want to know where Randolph is buried."


    Rosita bowed her head. "Alright."


    Garry got back in his car and drove away without another word.


    Rosita watched the taillights disappear, anxiety twisting inside her.


    Four years ago, she''d been responsible for Briony''s son''s death. Stewart had cut her off long ago. She''d been avoiding him ever since-how was she supposed to approach him now?


    But Garry was even more ruthless than Stewart.


    And his bond with Randolph was at least as deep.


    Rosita tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep.


    At dawn, she finally picked up her phone and called her private investigator.


    "I need you to find out which school Irwin attends. Get me the details as soon as you can."


    She hung up and got out of bed.


    By the time she''d washed up and put on her makeup, the investigator had already sent her the information.


    Irwin was attending Northborough''s most prestigious private academy.


    Stewart''s favoritism hadn''t changed one bit.


    So what if Briony''s son was dead because of her? Stewart''s favorite was still


    Irwin.


    Her son was the true and only heir to the Wentworth family.


    Rosita felt her anxiety ease. At least she still had Irwin as her trump card.


    As long as Stewart remained so devoted to Irwin, she still had leverage and a way back in.