Money Makes a Man's Regret

When my mother-in-law, Margaret Chapman and I were kidnapped and tortured by Henry Larson's enemies, he was on a date with his first love, Bethany Foster.

Hours later, the burglars grew irritated by Margaret's relentless cries and tore out her corneas.

They dumped her, barely covered in tattered rags, at the bottom deck of a cruise ship—right in front of Henry, who was gently draping a coat over Bethany's shoulders.

Henry's gaze swept over Margaret, who was whimpering helplessly. Then, in a voice laced with cold amusement, he scoffed. "Classic Jessica. You actually convinced Mom to go along with your little act?"

Margaret's mangled arms twitched with flesh and blood exposed as she gasped through the pain. "Henry… It hurts…"

…

This was the 18th hour since the burglars had begun their inhuman torture.

And yet, Henry—the man whose mere presence could send waves through Jensburg's business world—was too busy securing a name for Bethany's son.

The burglars had made so many ransom calls from my phone that it went dead.

And as the burglars realized no one was answering, one of them grabbed my fingers and snapped two of them backward without warning.

A sharp, unbearable pain shot through me before I was kicked, landing at Margaret's feet. She was heartbroken and stared down at me in terror.

The lead burglar snarled, "Isn't Henry supposed to be a man who loves his family? Then why isn't he picking up your calls? These family photos must be fake, huh? You messing with us?"

As he finished his words, his boot crushed my body, making my ribs creak.

My heart seized, and blood gushed from my mouth and nose. Before I could even react, his filthy, jagged nails dug into my nostrils, yanking me forward.

His sneering laughter buzzed in my ears like a death knell.

"You've got two minutes. If no one picks up, this old woman—well, you'll see."

I grew up in a single-parent home. But after marrying into the Larson family, Margaret had loved me like her own daughter.

And now, she sat beside me, trembling violently as her face had turned ghostly pale.

A sharp, searing pain made me cough up more blood, but I had no choice.

I clutched my phone like a lifeline, and my voice shook as I repeatedly swore Henry would answer the phone.

I vowed to protect Margaret.

With trembling fingers, I dialed Henry's number again. This time, the call connected.

"Hello?" Henry's familiar, gentle voice came through the receiver.

Upon hearing that, my teeth chattered uncontrollably as the burglar's blade pressed against Margaret's eye.

I fought to steady my breath. "Henry, Margaret and I have been held hostage. We—"

"Jessica!" Henry's voice turned sharp as he cut me off with an impatient sigh. "I don't know what kind of stunt you're pulling this time, but leave Mom out of it. And don't say crap like 'being held hostage.' If you still want this family to function, stop using Mom to fight for attention."

Before I could say another word, the call ended.

The burglar twisted his knife, and beads of blood appeared on Margaret's face.

"No…" My breath hitched in terror. I redialed, terrified that Margaret's face would become a canvas for their cruelty in the next second.

The call connected again.

I was on the brink of breaking. "Henry, I'm begging you! Just believe me this once! Margaret and I are being held hostage. Please, pay them ten million dollars to save us!"

This time, he didn't hang up immediately. I dared to hope. For a fleeting second, I thought he might finally believe me.

But then Henry's voice came through again. It was colder than ice.

"Ten million dollars?" A soft chuckle. "Well then, I guess I'll wait until they kill you both. I'll get you two ten million dollars at your funerals by then."

Then—silence. Henry had turned off his phone.

A moment later, my screen lit up with a message from Bethany. It was a video.

In it, Henry stood on a grand stage, wearing the custom-tailored suit I had picked out for him. He was holding a young boy's hand, beaming at the crowd.

"The rumors about Bethany being a single mother were false. Derrick is our child.

"Beth and I grew up together, and no one can ever come between us. There were misunderstandings when she got pregnant, leading to unfortunate rumors.

"But today, I want to make things clear—I am Derrick's father. From now on, I'll care for both mother and son."

Derrick's innocent voice piped up. "Daddy."

And Henry unhesitatingly responded with a hum.

Margaret's entire body shuddered. Tears welled in her eyes, streaming down her face as she stared blankly at the screen.

Her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to say something—but no words came out.

Bethany clung to Henry's arm the whole time with a soft smile.

Along with the video, Bethany had sent me a photo of Henry, her, and Derrick— a perfect little family.

And then, she sent me a message. "Jessica, Henry gave me your engagement cruise as a gift today. We're getting married at the end of the month. Also, he said he wants Margaret to be our witness."

It felt like something sharp had pierced straight through my gut. Like claws had reached inside me, twisting, tearing, shredding me from the inside out.

The pain was so unbearable that even my vision blurred red.

Somewhere in the distance, Margaret's sharp cry rang out. "Ah—"