Regret Came Too Late

Having him is taboo for me, loving him makes me hurt even more. I will never be his, because of a fact that happened to me.

"Sweetie, are you coming? I'll wait for you at our usual spot." Henry Lane is about to go to bed when he receives a voice message. It's spoken in Rushky. He turns his back to me as his face lights up in joy. Then, he answers in Rushky, "Of course. I love you." I'm about to fall asleep, but I jolt when I hear that. The sweet voice on the other end of the line rings out again. "Your wife won't find out about this, will she?" "I'm talking to you to her face now." Henry snorts. "We're speaking in Rushky; she can't understand us." My heart twists painfully. It turns out he's never loved or truly understood me. He thinks I'm just a housewife whose world revolves around him; he has no idea I once studied in Rushnia for two years as an exchange student. I suppress my sorrow and heartbreak as I caress my belly. Then, I make an appointment with a local hospital for an abortion.

I gave up everything to become a housewife—all for Tristan Fowler and our daughter. But ever since his first love got divorced, everything has changed. Tristan despises me, and my daughter orders me around like a maid. Crushed, I sign the divorce papers, give up everything, and leave for a faraway place. So why are they the ones now full of regret?

When my older brother, Ivan Goldsmith, gets drugged, I'm forced to strip down and use my body as an antidote for him. After I get pregnant, Mom and Dad tell us that we're not blood-related siblings at all. They then ask him to marry me. Ivan nods in agreement. But on the same day, he gets into a car accident after he goes racing. I don't mind him having crippled legs. In fact, I insist on becoming his bride. I thought Ivan would be touched upon hearing my declaration and that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. On our wedding night, our villa goes ablaze. After waking up choking on the thick smoke, the first thing that pops into my mind is to save Ivan from the inferno. Unexpectedly, I see him smashing a vase right into my head. Before I pass out, I hear his icy voice. "You, Mom, and Dad have ruined my love life! I've given all of our assets to Vicky just to make amends to her! Since all of you have ruined my life, then you might as well die!"

Iridina Luis had it all—money, status, and a wonderful husband. Until betrayal destroyed her life. Accused of a crime she didn’t commit and left to die in a staged car crash, she vanished into thin air. But she didn’t die. Five years later, she returns as Irene Nowell, a strong, unrecognisable woman, and hell-bent on destroying everything that ruined her. Her target is her ex-husband’s dynasty. Her weapon? A phony business proposition with her former husband… who doesn't even remember her. But there is one issue: Jaxon Black—Kieran’s cunning, black sheep brother. He isn't fooled by her deception. And worse? He sees her. When sparks fly and secrets come out—especially about her son—Iridina must decide between revenge and the only man who might just love her right. Kieran wants her back. But this time, she's choosing herself, her son and the brother who never let go of her.

I was the real heiress in a case of a mistaken identity. Three months after my return, the imposter heiress disappeared.   My brother, Caleb Carter, accused me of jealousy, believing I had driven the fake heiress away. The disappointed look on my parents’ faces revealed their true thoughts.   I was confined in the basement, subjected to daily torture.   Even after my death, my family donated my brain to a research institution.   Later, I watched from heaven as my family broke down upon watching my memories.

I was diagnosed with Neurogenic Wolf Spirit Atrophy. In half a month, I would be dead. The day I received the diagnosis, I decided to give up treatment and donate my body to the Central Research Institute after my death. Through the mind link, I reached out to my brother, whom I hadn’t seen in six years, hoping he would help me sign the papers. He sneered and cut off the link without any hesitation. With the Spirit Severance Donation Contract, a formal waiver of my right to have my wolf spirit returned to my pack's sacred grounds after death, I crossed countless territories alone to the high-ranking city where he resided. He had been promoted to commander of the Silverfang Patrol, basking in glory. He casually signed the document without even looking at me, then said with chilling indifference, “Don’t ever come to me again. Given how ungrateful you are, I can't be bothered to give you a proper burial." I nodded lightly. “I understand.” He did not know that the money for his treatments in the past years had come from me. Now, there were only seven days left until my death.

I've been married to my Mafia Boss husband for 15 years. When we first got married, he couldn't even afford a ring, but I didn't care; I loved him. I hid my identity. I secretly used my family's influence to help him build his empire from scratch, and I even bore him two children. His adopted sister always mocked me, calling me an old-fashioned housewife and saying I wasn't good enough for him. To avoid embarrassing him, I always endured it. Until our 15th anniversary, because both me and his adopted sister wore red dresses, he told me to stay in the kitchen: "Sofia's right. That red doesn't suit you. Don't come out until the banquet actually ends. Stay in the kitchen. I don't need the Dons from New York seeing you and getting the wrong impression." I was completely heartbroken and didn't argue anymore. I dialed a number I hadn't made in 15 years: "Principessa?" "It's me," I said, my voice steady. "Tell those old fossils on the Council... Isabella Corleone is coming home."

The day I was awarded the highest service medal, I got a call that my grandfather had died. My superiors approved emergency leave, and I rushed straight back to the family estate without stopping. The moment I reached the hillside cemetery behind the house, what I saw snapped something inside me. Our family burial ground had been completely leveled. My parents' graves had been dug open. Their urns had been turned into flower pot bases, with dark-red roses planted right on top of them. My grandfather's coffin had been split apart. His body was left exposed in the dirt, already starting to rot. And my younger brother, Jerry Horton, who was on the autism spectrum, was being ordered around like a laborer by my husband's assistant, Digby Wolfe, hauling construction materials back and forth. I lost it. I grabbed Digby and slammed him into the ground with a hard shoulder throw. "You touched my family's graves and made my brother do manual labor. Are you trying to get buried here with them?" Digby coughed up blood as he struggled to his feet, sneering at me. "This was Mr. Gray's decision. He said your family plot is in a good location, with plenty of space. It's perfect for building a golf course for the future Mrs. Gray. In Joule, Mr. Gray is the law." His tone was icy. "And who do you think you are?" I swallowed my rage and called Marshall Gray. "I hear you run Joule," I said. "Well, I'm about to change that."

“Ms. Summers, Mr. Quinn has already approved your resignation. He didn’t realize you were the one leaving. Should I let him know?” Hearing the news over the phone, Yara Summers lowered her gaze. “No. It’s fine. Just leave it as it is.” “You’ve been his secretary for four years. He values you the most and depends on you more than anyone. Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider?” HR kept trying to persuade her, but Yara just smiled.