His Regret Began When She Let Go のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 51 - チャプター 59

Rachel did not expect the mansion to be dark. She stepped inside slowly, closing the door behind her. For a second, she wondered if Dominic had gone out or sacked the maids, or did they all relocate? But then, she noticed the faint line of light stretching along the floor, leading toward the dining area.It was candle lights.Her heart gave a confused little jump. “Dominic?” she called.No answer.She followed the glow, her heart thumping. By the time she reached the dining room, the surprise revealed itself fully.The table had been set for two, crystal and silverware. A neat arrangement of white roses at the center. Soft lights reflected off the glass walls, warm and careful, nothing like the sharp business atmosphere she had left behind at the gallery.And Dominic stood there, his eyes solely fixated on her. He was waiting— for her?He wore a dark suit, no tie, his sleeves folded slightly as if he had been nervous and restless. When he saw her, the tension in his shoulders loosene

Rachel was not aware of how she slept off. One moment she had been sitting on the bed, her back against the headboard, phone still in her hand.The next, darkness swallowed her whole.Dominic stood across from her.Not the Dominic who held her, who kissed her mouth gently as if it was a treasure. This one was distant. Cold. His eyes were empty of everything she trusted.They were standing in a place she did not recognize. A place where they were no walls, no doors. Just endless grey stretching forever.“Dominic?” she called.Her voice echoed strangely, like the world was hollow. He did not answer. Instead, he lifted his hand.In his hand, there was a gun.Rachel frowned, confused. “What are you doing?” she asked, taking a step toward him.“Don’t,” he warned. “Come near me if you don't want to die.”The word cut through her. “I would never hurt you,” she said quickly. “You know me. What has come over you?” She asked, fear gripping her voice.His expression twisted, pain mixing with be

The hospital corridor smelled of antiseptic. Dominic walked through it without slowing, his footsteps sharp against the polished floor. His jaw was set, phone still in his hand from the call that had dragged him out of breakfast. His father has been transferred to intensive Care, room 307. He pushed through the double doors. Lucien stood near the window, shoulders rigid. Adrain was pacing. Stephanie sat beside the bed, clutching Alfredo’s hand with both of hers as if warmth alone could anchor him to the world. Dominic’s eyes went straight to the bed. Alfredo looked smaller than he remembered. Tubes threaded into his arms. The steady beep of the monitor painted green lines across the screen. “What happened?” Dominic asked, voice controlled. “His sugar spiked in the night,” Adrain answered, not looking at him. “They said his organs were struggling.” Stephanie’s face was streaked with tears. “He was asking for you earlier.” Dominic stepped closer to the bed. “I’m here,” he said,

Dominic held Jodie’s gaze for a long moment. The foyer felt smaller, tighter. Rachel could see the resistance behind his eyes—the instinct to shut Jodie out battling the need to know. Finally, he spoke. “Fine.” Rachel stiffened, she did not expect him to accept. “We’ll talk,” Dominic said. “Only five minutes. Once the time elapses, you'll leave.” Jodie’s lips curved slightly, victory concealed beneath sympathy. “That’s all I need.” Dominic turned toward the corridor leading to his study. “Inside there.” Rachel stepped forward. “Dominic….” He paused but didn’t look at her. “It concerns my father. I have to listen to her this time.” “And she doesn’t want me there?” Rachel replied sharply. Jodie gave an apologetic shrug. “It’s delicate. My time is already ticking.” Dominic’s voice hardened. “Rachel. Let it be.” The words landed heavier than intended and Rachel drew back instantly, masking the sting. “Do whatever you want.” Dominic walked ahead without another word. Jodie foll

The sky hung low and colorless over the private cemetery. A muted gray stretching endlessly above the rows of headstones. The air carried the faint scent of damp earth and lilies. Black vehicles lined the gravel path in disciplined symmetry, engines silent, doors closed with careful restraint.Alfredo’s casket rested beneath a canopy of white flowers. A dark mahogany and impeccably polished casket.Dominic stood at the front. His posture was tall, hands clasped behind his back, shoulders squared underneath a tailored black suit. He had not slept. The exhaustion showed in his features, but it did not soften him. Rachel stood beside him, her gloved hand wrapped tightly around his arm. She felt the tension radiating from him like a wire pulled too taut.Lucien positioned himself a step behind. Jodie lingered near the second row, her face composed, sunglasses shielding her eyes despite the dim light.The priest stepped forward. “Today,” he began solemnly, “we commend Alfredo to the mer