Too Late For Regret, Mr. Billionaire.

Chloe Beaumont struck the last match, the sulfur smell cutting through the soft-lit penthouse like a sharp little breath. The flame caught the wick of the final candle, throwing warm light across the table she'd set for two. Tonight was her birthday. And more than that, it was the night she planned to ask Cole Rutledge to marry her.

Her hand drifted to her lower belly without thinking, a secret smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. A secret she hadn't told Cole yet. She smoothed the silk of her dress, her heart punching against her ribs like it wanted out. Three years. Three years as his executive assistant by day, in his bed by night. She'd told herself it was enough time. Enough for him to see a future with her, to give her a place beside him that wasn't hidden in the dark.

The heavy sound of the apartment door swinging open shot a jolt through her chest. Cole was home. He walked in bringing a gust of cold New York night air with him. His face looked worn, the day's stress carved into the lines around his mouth. Before she could get a word out, the sharp, insistent ring of his phone sliced through the quiet she'd so carefully built.

He answered without even glancing her way. "Yes?"

Then his whole body changed. The tiredness fell away, replaced by a tightness so sharp Chloe could feel it from across the room. "Carroll? Where are you?"

The name hit her like a bucket of ice water. The blood in her veins went cold. Carroll Hardy. The woman from his past, the one whose name hung over their relationship like a ghost that wouldn't leave.

Chloe took a step forward, her voice coming out small. "Cole, it's my birthday..."

He didn't hear her. Everything in him was fixed on that phone, his voice dropping into a low, urgent command. "Don't do anything stupid. I'm on my way."

He ended the call and moved toward the door, snatching his car keys from the bowl on the console table. He hadn't looked at the dinner. Not at the candles. Not at her.

"What happened?" Chloe's voice shook as she reached out, her fingers closing around his forearm. "What did she do now?"

Cole's jaw tightened. He shook her hand off like it was a nuisance. "She tried to kill herself. Is that a good enough reason for you?"

The raw panic in his eyes, the fear he wasn't even trying to hide—in three years, he'd never once looked at her like that. Chloe felt the small velvet box in her pocket. It suddenly weighed a ton, stupid and ridiculous. A monument to her own foolishness. Her proposal was a joke.

His hand was on the doorknob when he threw a last cold glance over his shoulder. "Don't be irrational, Chloe. You know how important Carroll is to me."

Important. That one word cracked open the last of the lies she'd been telling herself. She wasn't in second place. She wasn't even in the race. She was probably not even a decent replacement.

The door clicked shut. She stood alone in the huge, silent apartment. The quiet pressed against her eardrums. She sat down at the table, the food she'd spent hours on going cold in front of her. She watched the candles burn down, wax dripping slow like tears that wouldn't stop. Like her heart.

After a long moment, she drew a shaky breath and stood up. She walked to the kitchen, her legs stiff, her movements mechanical. She pulled the velvet box from her pocket, opened it one last time to look at the simple, elegant ring she'd picked out, and then dropped it into the trash can, the lid falling shut with a soft, final click.

She couldn't stay here. Not another second. She grabbed her purse and her keys and fled the apartment, the smell of her ruined birthday dinner thick in her throat.

The rain came down in sheets, smearing the city lights as she sped down the FDR Drive. Tears blurred with the rain on the windshield until everything was a watery mess. Then a cramp hit her belly, so hard and sudden it stole her breath. She gasped, her knuckles white on the steering wheel.

And then she felt it. A warm wetness spreading between her legs, soaking through her light-colored dress. A wave of terror, cold and absolute, washed over her from head to toe. She looked down. Blood.

Her hands shook so badly she could barely grip her phone. With trembling fingers, she dialed the only person she could think of, the only one she still, stupidly, wanted to come save her.

Cole answered on the second ring. In the background, she could hear the soft, broken sound of Carroll Hardy crying.

"Cole," Chloe choked out, her voice ragged with pain and fear. "I'm bleeding. My stomach... it hurts so bad. Help me..."

His voice came back cold and impatient, a tone she knew too well. "Chloe, stop it. I'm not in the mood for your games tonight. It's just cramps. Don't cause more trouble."

The cruelty of it, the casual way he brushed her aside, broke something deep in her chest.

"Cole Rutledge," she screamed into the phone, the words ripping out of her throat. "You're going to regret this."

She hung up and threw the phone onto the passenger seat. The pain in her belly was a roaring fire now, eating her alive. The world tilted, the city lights smearing into a dizzy blur. Her foot slipped off the brake. The car swerved, metal shrieking against metal as it slammed into the guardrail.

Then everything went black.