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Chapter Fifty.
publish date:
2026-07-30 03:00:00THE MORNING AFTER THE STORM.
Nathan's POV.
The early morning sun was just starting to hit the glass windows of the kitchen, and I was standing by the main counter with a cup of hot black coffee in my hand while looking at the front pages of the daily newspapers that my staff had left on the table, their headlines loudly announcing Vera’s midnight escape from the local airfield alongside pictures of her empty car that the police had found abandoned near the highway. The e
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DEAR EX, IT'S TOO LATE FOR REGRET. CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY-EIGHT.
THE STORAGE FIRE ALARM.Nathan’s POV.The basement storage room was quiet and cool as Arthur Pendelton walked slowly down the long aisle between the high metal shelves, and the transition from descending the carpeted staircase to standing inside the legal archive room was completely smooth as Mark held his tactical flashlight steady against the dark corners. Hundreds of grey paper boxes were stacked neatly along the walls, while Joel stepped ahead to help the elderly lawyer inspect the labels pasted onto the front cover of each storage container."Box number forty-two should be sitting right here on the middle shelf, Mr. Zander, because I organized all of my confidential corporate client files in strict alphabetical order before I retired fifteen years ago," Arthur Pendelton noted, pointing his cane toward a thick metal filing box resting near the back of the third row."I see the metal box right here, Mr. Pendelton, and the front label has Richard Quinn's name printed clearly across
DEAR EX, IT'S TOO LATE FOR REGRET. CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY-SEVEN.
THE UPSTATE INVESTIGATION.Emma’s POV.The green trees along the northern highway were passing by our car windows as we drove further away from the city, and the transition from sitting in heavy traffic to glidng smoothly along the quiet country road was completely peaceful while Joel read through his legal files in the front passenger seat. Nathan kept his hand wrapped firmly around mine on the leather back seat, and after an hour of quiet silence between us, I turned my head to look directly into his dark, tired eyes."Nathan, I want to apologize for the harsh words I spoke to you last night when I told you to sleep down in your study," I said softly, my voice filled with genuine warmth as I squeezed his fingers tight inside my grasp."You don't ever have to apologize to me for being upset, Emma, because watching our daughters cry at that restaurant and seeing those staged hotel pictures on the morning news was more than any wife should have to handle," Nathan replied, turning his b
DEAR EX, IT'S TOO LATE FOR REGRET. CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY-SIX.
THE MISSING DOCUMENT.Nathan’s POV.The afternoon sun was shining brightly through the main conference room windows of Joel’s law firm as Emma set her father’s handwritten diary flat on the glass table surface, and the transition from stepping out of the elevator to reviewing those yellowed pages with our legal team was completely smooth as Mark closed the double doors behind us. Joel picked up the open journal, using a magnifying glass to read through Richard Quinn’s personal entries regarding the five-million-dollar financial payout and the signed release contract from twenty-five years ago."This journal entry is an incredible piece of historical evidence, Emma, and reading your father's direct thoughts about paying off the twins' mother gives us a clear roadmap of what happened back then," Joel said, setting his magnifying glass onto the desk table while looking across at us."So this handwritten entry is enough to make the probate judge throw Thomas Sterling's fifty percent petit
DEAR EX, IT'S TOO LATE FOR REGRET. CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY-FIVE.
THE SECRET DIARY.Emma’s POV.The morning was moving fast as our private car brought us to the iron gate of my family’s old estate grounds, and the transition from stepping through the double doors of the lower basement storage area to entering the secure vault room was completely smooth as Mark held his flashlight steady to light up the long table. The room was stacked with twelve old storage boxes that my late father had locked away decades ago, while two junior associates from Joel’s law firm stood nearby holding yellow paper pads and pens to help us catalog every single record before our morning court session tomorrow."Mrs. Zander, we have already opened the first four paper boxes on the left side of the room, but so far we have only found standard corporate shipping receipts and old property tax records from twenty years ago," one of the junior lawyers reported, setting a stack of blue folders down on the center table surface."Keep looking through every single page in those lef
DEAR EX, IT'S TOO LATE FOR REGRET. CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY-FOUR.
SECURITY LOCKOUT.Nathan’s POV.The morning sun was shining bright outside my high-rise office windows as I sat behind my desk table, and the transition from holding Emma in our kitchen room to arriving at Zander Logistics headquarters was fast as Mark stood directly in front of my desk holding his tablet device. The staged hotel pictures were still circulating across every major entertainment channel in the city, and seeing the emotional exhaustion on my wife's face earlier that morning made it crystal clear that my soft, patient approach to dealing with Chloe Vance-Quinn was officially over."Good morning, Mr. Zander, I have our legal security notices drawn up and ready for your final digital signature on the tablet screen," Mark reported, setting the screen flat on my desk table while scrolling through the official lockout documentation."Read me the full list of restrictions we are placing on Chloe and Julian Vance-Quinn right now, Mark, because I want to make sure every single lo
DEAR EX, IT'S TOO LATE FOR REGRET. CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY-THREE.
FABRICATED EVIDENCE.Emma’s POV.The morning sun was shining brightly through the tall windows as I stepped out of the master bedroom down toward the kitchen, and the transition from checking on Pearl and Gina in their room to pouring myself a cup of tea was heavy because my heart was still hurting from sending Nathan down to his study last night. Sarah was setting a plate of toasted bread on the long table while the radio played quietly in the background, but the peaceful morning silence was completely shattered when my personal tablet screen on the counter began buzzing with dozens of urgent news alerts from major media outlets across the city.I picked up the tablet device, tapping the screen to view the primary entertainment blog, and my breath caught in my chest as a giant headline flashed across the display screen showing staged photographs of my husband entering room nine hundred and twelve at the Grand Plaza Hotel at four o'clock in the morning. The headline accused Nathan of
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