REGRETS

VANESSA STERLING'S POV 

My hands clench with rage as I step into the garage of my villa. I just got a bank notification about a massive withdrawal from my emergency account. Only my lazy, good-for-nothing husband, Cyrus, has access to that account, and the thought of him squandering more of my hard-earned money on his ridiculous luxuries makes my blood boil.

Besides stealing designs, he hasn’t worked a day since we got married, yet he spends millions on designer clothes and jewelry. I had cancelled all the credit cards I gave him, but I didn't think he would be so disgraceful as to withdraw from my emergency account.

“Cyrus!” I yell as I enter the living room.

Mary, the housekeeper I hired after Abel left, rushes in, concern plastered on her face. “You’re back early, Mrs. Vanessa. Dinner is almost ready.”

“Where’s Cyrus?” I snap.

Mary hesitates. “He’s in the bedroom, ma’am. Is something wrong?”

“Leave, Mary. I’ve given you the evening off.” I want her gone before I unleash hell on that useless leech.

She nods and hurries away.

I storm down the hallway, anger coursing through me.

I burst into the bedroom to find the lazy fool trying on a flashy designer suit, striking a pose in front of the mirror. There are at least six other pairs of different colours sprawled across the bed.

So he drained my emergency account for designer suits while I’m left to figure out how to salvage my company from his fucking mess. My anger boils over.

“Oh, hey babe. Check this out! What do you th....”

Before he can finish his sentence, my hand shoots out, my fist connecting with his jaw with a sickening thud. He staggers backward, his hand flying to his mouth as blood trickles between his fingers.

"You... you hit me!" He stammers, his eyes wide with shock.

"Listen up, you leech," I spit. "If you ever touch my money again, I'll fucking bury you."

"Whoa, calm down Vanessa. It's just money. We have plenty of it." The idiot says still clutching his jaw.

"We?" I advance on him and he raises his hands in a placating gesture. 

"Okay, okay. I know I've messed up a bit lately, but I promise I'll make it up to you. When all this blows over, I promise you the best of nights and -"

My anger flares. After dragging my brand through mud, he think a night of ‘sex’ will fix everything? 

“Get out of my sight before I do something worse!” I command, my hands trembling with rage.

Clutching his bleeding mouth, he stares at me in disbelief before turning and stumbling out of the room.

Few minute later I hear his car start and drive off.

I would be heavily delighted if he could just leave and never come back again, but we all know that that wouldn't happen. 

This is is obviously not the last problem he is going to cause me. He has got a talent of dragging my good reputation through mud over and over again.

I thought I was getting a successful, reputable man that would actively help in the growth of my fashion brand, now I'm stuck in a very despicable marriage, with a useless and selfish husband.

I was so foolish getting rid of the kindest, most selfless man I have ever known. Abel's attractive personality was my greatest comfort for three years. But I kicked him out in the most humiliating way.

At the time I hadn't imagined he could be a better choice. He was jobless and a house husband, but he was more hardworking and devoted than any man I’ve met.

I don't know where he ran to, after I kicked him out. He didn't really have a place to go. Which worries me now the most.

I can't do anything about my marriage to Cyrus right now, he is not the type to handle a divorce elegantly with a single gasp or a single tear. He thrives on drama, and drama is the last thing I need right now. I must use the model that William and Amanda recommended to divert public attention and as soon as I take care of the troubles he has caused me, I'll throw him out like yesterday's trash. I'll then find Abel and ensure that he has at least a safe place to live. I owe him that much.

Just then, my phone buzzes in my handbag. I reach in and pull it out—it's my mother.

"Vanessa, dear, I just got a call from Cyrus," my mother says, her voice laced with concern. "He told me you two got into a fight and that you hit him. Is everything alright?" 

What a total drama queen? Seriously, he went crying to my mom?

"Sounds like I didn't hit him hard enough if he is still talking ," I reply.

Mother sighs. "I'm so sorry, dear. I never should have encouraged you to marry that man. He's a worthless, good-for-nothing fool!"

"We didn't that that he was a gold digger either," my father adds in a similarly apologetic tone from somewhere in the background.

Their apologies doesn't help me in any way right now.

I open my mouth to respond, but another call comes through. I glance at the screen and see Aubrey's name.

"Hold that thought, Mom. I'll call you back ." I say to them, already pressing the button to answer Aubrey's call.

"You’ve got great timing!" I say to Aubrey. "I heard your agency is offering models for tomorrow’s Maison brand fashion show."

"I was actually calling you about that," she replies excitedly. "There's this model I think you should see. He could really elevate your brand—especially now that you're dealing with... complications."

I frown. Yep, thanks to Cyrus everyone knows I am dealing with a lot of shit.

"I have heard about your Runway Angel. I’ll be there to check him out." I answer. I'll do anything to bring my company out of Cyrus mess and get myself out of this despicable marriage too.

"Perfect!" Aubrey replies, and I hung up.