Todos los capítulos de TOO LATE TO REGRET, EX-HUSBAND: Capítulo 191 - Capítulo 200

The grand foyer grew instantly colder as the stranger stepped across the threshold.His polished leather shoes made a sharp, echoing tap against our marble floor. He didn't look around at the high timbered ceilings or the expensive artwork on the walls. His pale blue eyes were fixed entirely on us, cold and calculating behind his thin silver-rimmed glasses.Arthur didn't move an inch. His broad shoulders blocked my view for a split second before I stepped up beside him, my chin held high. We weren't hiding anymore."You have five seconds to turn around and walk back out those doors," Arthur said, his voice dropping into a low, rumbling warning that could rattle stone. "Before I help you out myself."The stranger offered a thin, polite smile that never reached his eyes. He reached into his tailored wool coat with slow, deliberate fingers, pulled out a slim black leather cardholder, and slid a single silver-embossed business card onto the small mahogany table by the door."My name is Vi

The cold hum of the underground garage felt deafening.In my arms, Leo and Emma buried their faces in my jacket, their small shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. I held them tighter, pressing kisses to their hair while Arthur stood guard over us, his knuckles raw and his breathing heavy. A few feet away, my father and Julian kept their weapons trained on the captured operatives kneeling against the concrete floor.We had won the battle in the nursery. We had saved our children from being dragged away into the dark.Then the overhead security monitors flickered violently.The bright white fluorescent screens stuttered, hissed with static, and snapped into a crisp, high-definition live video feed.The camera was pointed directly at the main iron security gates of the estate, half a mile down the winding driveway.Standing right in front of the massive wrought-iron bars was Viktor Vanderbilt.He had discarded his tailored wool coat. In his crisp white dress shirt and loosened tie, he looke

The night air burned with the thick, oily smell of burning rubber and scorched gasoline.Bright orange flames leaped into the dark sky, casting jagged, dancing shadows across the twisted wreckage of Director Vance's federal SUV. The heat was so intense it forced us back several steps from our hiding spot near the stone retaining wall."What is going on out there?" my father muttered, keeping his shotgun raised as he peered through the thick rhododendron branches. "Who are those men?"I didn't answer. I couldn't.My eyes were locked entirely on the tall, imposing figure standing beside the lead armored truck.He was wearing a dark, heavy trench coat that fluttered in the sharp mountain wind. A thick cigar glowed bright red between his lips, illuminating a face so strikingly similar to Director Marcus Vance that it sent a cold shiver straight down my spine. The same sharp jawline, the same pale, calculating eyes, and the same ruthless arrogance.It was Julian's older brother–or rather,

The blast wave hit us like a physical blow, a concussive shock that tore the air right out of my lungs and sent a ringing vibration deep into the bones of my skull.It wasn't the interior corridor charges Arthur had triggered. This explosion came from deep beneath our feet, rumbling through the ancient concrete and stone foundation of the house with a terrifying, bone-shaking roar.BOOM!Plaster rained down from the high wooden ceiling like gray snow, settling in our hair and coating our shoulders. The grand foyer shook so violently that the heavy crystal chandelier swung wildly overhead, its glass pendants clinking together in a frantic, shattering melody before crashing down onto the marble floor in a shower of glittering shards.My breath caught in my throat. My heart stopped beating entirely, freezing in my chest as a wave of absolute dread washed over me.The garage vault."No," I gasped, the word tearing raw and bloody from my throat, echoing in the smoky haze of the hall.Arthu

"Don't you dare hang up!" I screamed into the phone, my voice cracking with pure, unadulterated terror.The line went dead with a sharp, clicking beep.The phone slipped slightly in my trembling hand, the screen glowing dimly against the dark, vibrating cabin of the helicopter. Below us, the twin rotors thundered against the night air, kicking up a furious gale as we roared down the dark mountain valley toward the river."Vivian? Who was that?" Arthur shouted over the deafening roar of the turbine engines.He was sitting right across from me, his dark tactical vest strapped tight over his broad chest, his eyes burning with a wild, dangerous intensity. He had just rescued Emma, but his son was still out there in the crosshairs of a ruthless monster."It was him," I said, swallowing hard as I forced the words past the tight knot in my throat. "The man pulling the strings. He said... he said if we land the chopper at the sawmill, Leo dies."Arthur’s face tightened into an expression of c