REGRET
The Wilson Mansion The house was silent, too silent. Mr. Wilson sat in his office, the walls closing in on him with every passing second. He gripped a glass of whiskey in one hand, swirling the amber liquid like it held the answers to all his mistakes. “What have I done?” he whispered, pacing back and forth in his leather slippers. “I gave her away... my little girl.” He gulped down the drink, hoping it would numb the storm raging in his chest. But it didn’t. Nothing could. Images of Kristen’s face haunted him, her cold eyes at the hospital, the pain and betrayal she couldn’t even hide. That look had cut deeper than any words. “How could I have been foolish enough to marry her off to that ruthless man? What has he done to her? Why was she even in the hospital?” he muttered, raking a hand through his thinning hair. No one gave him answers. And the truth was, he didn’t have the courage to face Don Carlo. The man could destroy him with a snap of his fingers. He had made a deal with the devil, and now his daughter was paying the price. “But Kristen…” He sank into the chair beside his desk, leaning his head back as the memories came rushing in. Ten Years Ago Christiana, his wife, lay on the hospital bed, pale and fragile. The cancer had drained every ounce of strength from her, but her spirit remained. “Promise me you’ll love and protect our baby girl,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not going anywhere, Chrissy,” he said, his voice breaking. He clutched her hand tightly, refusing to accept what was coming. “Just promise me,” she insisted, squeezing his fingers with the little strength she had left. “I promise,” he choked, tears streaming down his face. “You know I love her… as much as I love you. I’ll take care of her.” Christiana smiled weakly and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “You two will have each other…” But he had broken that promise. He married Carolina a few years after Christiana’s death. She had seemed kind at first, grieving her own loss, mother to a young girl named Sophie. It felt like fate. Two broken families coming together to heal. But that illusion faded quickly. Carolina was beautiful but dangerous. Manipulative. Addicted to gambling. She wasted her late father’s money, spent company funds like water, and dragged his business into a pit. “I’ll fix this, my love,” she once whispered to him as he stared at the piles of unpaid bills on his desk. “You gambled with company money, Carolina. That’s embezzlement. What the hell were you thinking?” he snapped. “I panicked… I thought I could win it back,” she said, faking tears, rubbing his shoulders like she always did when she wanted to distract him. Even then, he had let it slide. Foolishly. Lovingly. But the final straw came when she borrowed money from Don Carlo’s casino. A loan so large it could have saved the company. But Carolina didn’t use it to save anything. She bought jewelry, designer clothes, threw parties, and lost the rest at the poker tables. And when it came time to pay it back, they couldn’t. That’s when Don Carlo offered them a way out. “Your daughter for your debt,” he had said with a cold smile. At first, he thought he meant Sophie. After all, it was Carolina’s debt. But somehow, some way, Carolina twisted the deal. She convinced him to offer Kristen instead. “It’s just marriage,” she had said flippantly. “Don Carlo is rich. He’ll take care of her.” He didn’t know how she did it. Maybe it was her lies, or maybe he was just too weak to say no. And now, Kristen hated him. “I curse the day I met you!” he shouted suddenly, flinging the whiskey glass against the wall. It shattered, the sound echoing through the house. Footsteps came running. The office door slammed open, and Carolina walked in, her eyes wide. “What happened here?” she asked, feigning concern as she stared at the broken glass on the floor. “What happened here?” he snapped. “You happened here, you wicked, manipulative witch!” Carolina raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?” “You convinced me to marry off my daughter like she was a piece of furniture. You lied. You schemed. You let that monster get his hands on her!” Carolina crossed her arms, smirking. “Oh please. Don’t act like you were forced. You could’ve said no. But you didn’t. You’re just a coward who couldn't protect his own daughter.” Wilson felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. Because deep down… she was right. He had failed Kristen. Failed Christiana. “I should never have married you,” he said coldly. “You're poison. Everything you touch turns to ash.” Carolina simply rolled her eyes. “Save the drama. You made your choices, just like I made mine.” And with that, she walked out, leaving the room and his heart in shambles. Wilson sat there in silence for a long time. Then, he did what he should’ve done years ago. He picked up the phone and called his lawyer. “I need to change my will,” he said firmly. “Transfer everything, my company shares, properties, savings. All of it to my daughter. Kristen.” There was a pause on the other end. “Are you sure, sir? That would leave your wife and stepdaughter with… nothing.” “I’m not ‘sure.’ I’m damn certain,” Wilson growled. “They don’t deserve a dime. My real daughter is the only one who matters now.” As they spoke, Mr Wilson didn’t notice Carolina standing outside the door, her face pale with rage. The Next Morning Carolina sat in her car, lips curled in a wicked smile as she stared at the lawyer’s office building. “He wants to give her everything?” she sneered. “We’ll see about that.”You drive me crazyThe room went silent.It was so silent that Kristen could hear her own heartbeat thudding in her ears. Her chest was still rising and falling from the tears, but her eyes locked on his, searching, digging, trying to find a lie. If there was a hint of hesitation.But there was none.“I’m in love with you,” Carlo repeated again, his voice even softer now. Kristen stood frozen.That one sentence—those five words—felt like a wrecking ball to her chest.He’d never said that before. Not once.And Now… they were out. Hanging in the space between them like a fragile truth.And it broke something inside her, She took one step closer. Then another. “I hate this.”Carlo blinked, caught off guard. “Hate what?”“I hate that we’re always fighting,” she whispered. “I hate that I can’t trust what’s happening around me. I hate that the second Bernice showed up… everything changed.”She looked away for a second, breathing deeply.“I feel like I’ve been holding my breath since the m
You want her not me Kristen didn’t even wait for Carlo to say anything else. The moment his words sank in—messing with another man—her blood boiled.“Oh, great. I’m glad you’re aware you’ve been avoiding me,” she snapped, voice sharp with frustration. “At least we’re starting there.”Carlo didn’t flinch, but his jaw tensed. “That’s not the point here, Sophie,” he said, tone low, like he was trying to keep his anger in check. “You did go out to see another man.”“Yes, I did, Carlo. I’m not denying it,” she said, her voice rising. “But I also told you, he’s my childhood friend.”Carlo stepped forward, his expression dark and unreadable. “If you’re so innocent, if you’re really not hiding anything, then why didn’t you tell anyone where you were going? Huh?” His voice sharpened, his hands clenched at his sides. “Why sneak out like that if you had nothing to hide?”Kristen’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Are you serious right now?” she said, laughing bitterly. “I’m not doing this with you,
Messing With Another ManKristen jolted awake with a loud gasp, her body drenched in sweat. Her chest heaved as she reached for her neck with trembling hands, heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst through her ribs. Her throat was fine. No bruises. No Carlo. No Bernice lurking in the shadows.Just a dream.A nightmare.She sat up slowly, brushing damp strands of hair from her forehead. Morning sunlight poured through the blinds, casting golden lines across the bed. The sheets were tangled tightly around her legs, as if she’d spent the whole night wrestling invisible demons.In a way, she had.A soft knock broke through the silence.“Madam?” came the maid’s voice from behind the door. “Good morning. I came to let you know breakfast is ready.”Kristen swallowed and tried to steady her voice. “Is… is Carlo home?”“He already left earlier this morning,” the maid answered gently.Kristen paused, her chest tightening. She should’ve expected that. “Is Bernice downstairs?”“Yes, m
You Don't Belong Here“Are you deaf?... What the hell are you doing here?” Kristen asked, standing in the doorway with her arms crossed tightly, anger burning in her eyes.Bernice stood near the entrance like she owned the place. She didn’t flinch. “I just came to check up on you,” she said, giving a small, fake smile. “You left angrily because of me, remember? Thought it would be nice to show some concern.”Kristen narrowed her eyes. She knew Bernice wasn’t here to be kind. Her voice, her expression, that smile—it all dripped with sarcasm. Kristen forced a polite smile in return. “That’s sweet of you,” she replied, matching her tone.“You know Carlo… He always shows up for the people he loves… I mean, cares for,” Bernice added with a smirk.Kristen’s eyes sharpened. She could see exactly what Bernice was doing, but she refused to give her the satisfaction. “Yes, my husband has a thing for helping strays,” she said coolly.Bernice’s jaw tightened, and for a second her smile faltered.
The Rift The door closed with a soft click behind them. The house felt heavy with silence. Kristen was still shaken by all that had just happened tonight. She could still feel the tension on her skin like sharp little pins pressing everywhere. Everything felt tight and cold. Bernice had been patched up. Her leg was wrapped in thick bandages, and she winced every time she moved. Kristen stood by the stairs, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, eyes fixed on Bernice. Bernice slowly lowered herself onto the couch, as if she belonged there. Carlo was standing just behind Kristen. “She’ll stay here,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “At least until she’s better.” Kristen didn’t answer. Not right away. Her jaw was tight, and her eyes slowly moved from Bernice to Carlo. She turned to fully face him. “Excuse me?” Her voice was cold. “I thought we agreed for her to leave the house?” Carlo let out a breath like he already knew this conversation would go badly. “She’s wounded,
She took the bullet for himKristen walked down the hallway with slow, uneasy steps. Her heart was beating fast, and her hands were slightly trembling. Carlo had stormed out of the house earlier to find Marcus, and now it had been hours with no word from him. No call. No text. Nothing. And that silence was making her more anxious by the minute.She was heading to the Bar to get a drink, something, anything, to help calm her nerves. Wine or Maybe whiskey. She didn’t even know what she wanted. All she knew was that her chest was tight, and her mind wouldn’t stop racing.She had just turned the corner when something strong and cold pressed against her face.A cloth.Pressed hard against her nose and mouth.At first, she didn’t understand. Her hands flew up, trying to grab the person’s arms. She struggled. Kicked. Tried to scream. But the scent from the cloth hit her like a wave. It was strong. A sharp, sweet, almost sickening perfume that made her head spin instantly.The arms holding he