My Unchosen Ex Chases Reborn Me (Soren and Fiona) novel Chapter 88

Chapter 88 Sisters Speak Frankly

Chapter 88 Sisters Speak Frankly

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In the beginning, surrendering control of the household purse had stung Joanna more than she dared confess. She worried the second branch might pounce on every misstep, turning small errors into sharpened blades. Yet day by day, she watched Meryl streamline each ledger, pay every servant on time, and never once cause her trouble. The last grain of resentment slipped from her fingers.

Without the silver Meryl funneled into the estate, Stanley could never have greased the right palms for his glittering promotion. Once her husband stood firmly at her side, life smoothed out like fresh silk. Even the main branch and Hannah chose their words with care, unwilling to court her displeasure.

“Very well, I’ll be off then.” Meryl took one polite sip of coffee, set the cup down without a ripple, and glided from the room.

Joanna’s gaze shifted to Fiona, eyes bright with invitation. “Rita is dreadfully bored these days,” she said. “She’d like you to visit, if you’re willing.”

Fiona hesitated. Rita was expecting, and if she asked for company, it had to be sincere. She is cousin–how could I refuse?

The Wagner residence felt quieter than usual. Rita’s belly was now a neat, rounded curve beneath pale silk, yet Elijah–so often her shadow–was nowhere in sight.

my

Rita clasped Fiona’s hand. “Thank goodness you’re here. I was about to be killed by boredom.”

Fiona glanced around. “Where’s Elijah?”

Rita let out a cold, short laugh. “I sent him away. I’ve no desire to see him.”

“Rita, you have to mind your health now,” Fiona urged. “Don’t let anger consume you.”

“I was forbidden a marital bed for a single month, and he already crept back to that concubine’s quarters,” Rita said, voice trembling. “They whisper together as sweetly as when he’s with me–no, perhaps sweeter.”

Fiona’s heart lurched. She had always thought Elijah a man of spotless devotion.

“Men are all the same,” Rita went on. “But that concubine is ambitious, forever trying to unsettle me. I dismissed her in front of Elijah and dared him to object. He said nothing. Let her remember she’s a plaything, nothing more.”

If Soren makes me a concubine, his future wife will see me exactly as Rita sees that concubine, Fiona

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10:30 Sat, Oct 11

Chapter 88 Sisters Speak Frankly

thought, lips pressed tight.

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“Listen, Fiona, romance is smoke in the wind. Power is the coin that never tarnishes. Don’t lose your head over a man. If he gathers women, so be it, but any who tries to eclipse you must be cut down early. That’s why, after casting the troublesome one out, I installed women loyal to me. I even gave Hazel, my own maid, to Elijah. Better his bed be filled with someone whose heart beats for me than with an enemy.”

She had offered Hazel herself, yet Elijah’s easy acceptance still bruised her pride, and she had kept him from her sight for several days.

Fiona’s emotions tangled. She had heard of maids becoming concubines, but never expected the practice to touch her own cousin.

In her previous life, Soren never once let his gaze linger on her two maids. He even undressed himself rather than allow them close, causing her to assume it was universal.

“With Uncle Zachary away in Junbert, your marriage prospects must give Grandmother a headache,” Rita said, worry flickering through her eyes.

Fiona forced a rueful smile. “All I can do is let matters take their natural course.”

They paid their respects to the senior Wagners, then to Joanna, who held her youngest–a mischievous child of four or five–while he wriggled, wailing to be taken outside to play.

“I’ll take him.” Fiona’s voice came out calm, almost breezy, yet everyone heard the undercurrent–she needed to step outside, to breathe. Joanna had been lavishing Rita with such ardor that the sitting–room air felt syrup–thick.

Joanna inclined her head. “Thank you, Ms. Fiona.”

“All right, let’s go!” Landon tugged at Fiona’s sleeve, excitement already warming his round cheeks.

They crossed the door into open daylight. Rita drifted behind them, while Fiona–renowned among young ladies for her deadly aim with a slingshot–promised a small demonstration that made Landon stare at her as if she were some traveling heroine come to life.

“You’re amazing,” he breathed. “Can I be your apprentice?”

Fiona pinched his plump cheek, the flesh yielding like fresh dough. “I’m not in the market for

one.”

“Will you visit often?” he pressed. “Then we could shoot every day, play kickball, and wrestle.” His eyes shone with boundless plans.

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