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Chapter 33: Pregnant… What?
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2025-05-10 01:21:09
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No Apologies, No Regrets Chapter 92: Our hearts combined
The fluorescent lights hummed softly overhead as Judah walked down the quiet hallway of the private clinic. The soles of his shoes clicked softly on the polished marble. Every step was heavier than the last. He had faced gunfire, betrayal, and cartel executions. But nothing prepared him for this moment.He stood outside her room for a long time before knocking. His hand hovered over the door handle. She had fainted when she found out. And when he rushed to her side earlier; her eyes had fluttered closed, heart racing from the weight of what her soul must’ve screamed before her mind could catch up.Now, she was awake.And waiting.He opened the door.Fedora sat up in the hospital bed, wrapped in pale blue sheets. Her eyes were swollen, red-rimmed. A tray of untouched food sat beside her.She didn’t speak when she saw him.She just looked.And looked.Judah stepped inside, closing the door gently behind him. Went to the bed where she laid and knelt down on the floor beside it.“Fedora,
No Apologies, No Regrets Chapter 91: The Wedding Day
Dubai woke up golden.The Burj Khalifa shimmered in the distance as if it, too, was holding its breath. The venue—a waterfront palace resort soaked in elegance—was buzzing by 6:00 a.m. The scent of freshly-cut roses mixed with expensive perfume and barely hidden tension.Fedora stood at the center of it all. A headset wrapped delicately around her ear, clipboard in hand, navy-blue dress tailored to precision. Her hair was swept into a neat twist. Her eyes? Focused.“Press is already lining up outside,” Rasha, her assistant, whispered, holding her tablet. “Groom’s party has arrived. Bride’s entourage checked in. Everything’s moving on schedule.”Fedora nodded tightly. “Begin ushering the guests. I want the press allowed past the velvet ropes—but not past the second security tier. I don’t want any flashbulbs near the altar.”“Yes, ma’am.”By 10:00 a.m., the palace lawn had been transformed into a dream.Thousands of hand-arranged white orchids lined the aisle. Gold chairs shimmered unde
No Apologies, No Regrets Chapter 90: The Last Rehearsal
The air in the Burj al-Qasr ballroom was laced with floral jasmine, chilled champagne, and thick tension disguised as excitement. Crystal chandeliers glimmered overhead like a thousand stars, reflecting against the ivory and gold interior. Staff moved in synchronized rhythm, draping tables, aligning chairs, and checking sound systems.Fedora stood at the center of it all, her clipboard trembling slightly in her hand.She wore a fitted rose-gold blazer over silk pants, her hair pulled into a flawless knot, her professionalism stitched tight across her face. No one could see the war behind her eyes, no one but herself.Guests were arriving by the hour. International elites. CEOs. Politicians. A few faces she knew from tabloids, and more from classified briefings years ago when she still walked in shadows beside Judah - her late husband.JasonHer chest constricted at the sound of his name, which filtered into her thoughts.She hadn’t seen him since their confrontation two nights ago. An
No Apologies, No Regrets Chapter 89: It Is Either War Or War!
Rain lashed quietly against the glass as Judah stood alone in the corner of the surveillance suite: a hidden location buried beneath an old Dubai consulate that Mowe had quietly converted into a safe house.The light from the monitors cast cold lines across his face. Footage of Beauty, Eric, and several untraceable encrypted calls looped in silence. But Judah wasn’t watching anymore.He was listening.“…the UN massacre,” Trenholm said over the line. “It was never confirmed who ordered the drop, but your evidence connects Rivas directly to the two pilots and the encrypted dispatch.”“And Beauty?” Judah asked, voice like cracked glass.“Complicit by proximity,” Trenholm replied. “Eric was there. She was there. At least one of them made the call.”Judah turned slowly, eyes burning. “That’s enough to reopen the case?”“It already has,” Trenholm said.Because Judah Carlstone had made sure of it.Two weeks ago, quietly, deliberately, he'd instructed Emmanuel to dig—deep into classified repo
No Apologies, No Regrets Chapter 88 – The Echo in the Shadows
The call came at 2:06 a.m.Judah sat upright in bed, already dressed, the hotel sheets untouched beside him. Sleep was a luxury he hadn’t allowed himself in days. His phone buzzed again. The name flashed:TRENHOLM.He answered immediately.“What did you find?” he asked, voice low and razor-sharp.“Got a hit on the IP address,” Trenholm said. “The location pinged from a private Wi-Fi network inside a compound registered under an alias—Yasir Delgado.”“Delgado?” Judah repeated.“It’s a shell name. But the lease is connected to someone who showed up on our radar a few years ago. Cross-referencing facial scans, we believe it’s Eric Hernández.”Judah’s blood chilled.Eric. The man Beauty said was her brother. The man who hovered in her shadows like an afterthought—but never left her side. The man who always seemed a little too close… a little too comfortable.“And the address?” Judah asked.Trenholm read it out. A private villa, nestled in one of Dubai’s high-security residential islands—a
No Apologies, No Regrets Chapter 87: Judah is not Letting Go!
Fedora’s fingers hovered over the final guest list, heart pounding as the last string of fairy lights draped the marquee. Everything was almost perfect; the tables, the flowers, the menu, but then her phone buzzed. The band. They wanted more money. A 30% hike. Immediately. Now.Her chest tightened. This was the night before pre-wedding rehearsals. Under any other circumstances, she’d calmly negotiate. Tonight… she clenched her jaw.“Excuse me,” she murmured to her team. “I’m stepping out.”She slipped into the Dubai night, pulling on a blazer against the desert breeze, and climbed into a waiting car. Her gut was in knots; this wasn’t just about money. The music was vital. Without it, the wedding would fall flat.Behind her, quietly, walked Jason. He’d heard her tense steps in the penthouse hallway. He didn’t ask. He followed.They arrived at a modest rehearsal studio. Inside, the band lounged, feigning innocence.“Not happening,” Fedora stated, voice low and sharp. “This isn’t negotia
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