Too Late For Regret, Mr. Carlson

I stood at the edge of the ballroom, a black blot on my husband’s perfect canvas. While Jensen Carlson stood under the crystal chandeliers as the master of his universe, the guests whispered that his "friend" Aubree was a much better match for him than I ever could be. My stomach was twisting in sharp, jagged cramps from what I knew was acute appendicitis, but to the Carlson family, I wasn't a wife—I was a utility. My mother-in-law called me a "drill bit" and ordered me to drive Jensen home like a servant because his "optics" mattered more than my internal organs. When I arrived, Jensen didn't ask why I was shaking; he just snapped that my black coat was "depressing" and told me to stop "fidgeting" with my medication. He spent the night whispering to Aubree, then came home and fed my divorce papers into a shredder, mocking me for thinking I could survive a week without the Carlson name. The next day, he humiliated me in front of my entire department, accusing me of flirting with staff just as I was about to collapse from the pain. I had given up my PhD for this man and secretly written the code that built his billion-dollar empire, yet he viewed me as nothing more than a "depreciating asset." Even as I lay shivering on the hardwood floor because his mother locked the guest rooms to force me into his bed, he only sneered, asking if he was "that repulsive" when the pain made me vomit. "If you're not in the car by seven, I'll cut off your grandfather's medical funding." That was the final thread. I didn't go to the gala. Instead, I reclaimed my original patents, wiped my server access, and met him on the curb with a cardboard box and a resignation letter. "I'm not your wife anymore, Jensen. And I'm not your employee." As my Uber pulled away, leaving him clutching a revoked patent and a divorce petition, I realized I wasn't losing everything—I was finally starting to breathe.

Chapters

Chapter 8

The doctor was young, tired, and blunt.

Your white blood cell count is elevated, and based on the location of the pain and your rebound tenderness, I strongly suspect acute appendicitis, she said, looking at the chart. "This isn't something you can ignore, Mrs. Carlson. You need to go to an emergency room for a surgical consult. Immediately."

She handed Alexia a referral form. "You need to reduce stress. You need to rest. And you need surgery. If you keep going like this, you're going to end up in the ER with a rupture, and that's life-threatening."

Alexia took the form. Her hands were shaking. "Can I… can I wait a day? I just need one more day."

The doctor looked at her like she was crazy. "Can you? Maybe. Should you? Absolutely not. I'm prescribing you the strongest painkillers I can, but this is a temporary, dangerous solution."

Alexia swallowed two of the pills she gave her right there in the office.

Her phone buzzed.

Aubree: Hey girl! I feel terrible about last night. Let me make it up to you. Lunch at Le Coucou? Just us girls. We need to talk about Jensen's birthday. I want to make sure I don't step on your toes!

It was a trap. Alexia knew it was a trap.

But if she didn't go, Aubree would tell Jensen she was being difficult. She would spin it.

Fine, Alexia typed. 12:30.

Alexia arrived at Le Coucou early. She ordered hot water with lemon.

Aubree swept in ten minutes late. She looked radiant.

Alexia! She kissed the air beside Alexia's cheek. "You look… cozy."

She sat down. "I ordered for us! The seafood tower. It's to die for."

The mere thought of food, let alone raw seafood, made Alexia's stomach clench. The smell of brine and shellfish from a nearby table was already making her feel lightheaded. "Aubree, I can't eat. I'm not feeling well."

Aubree waved her hand. "Oh, stop it. You're always on a diet. Live a little."

Then, Alexia saw him.

Jensen walked through the door.

He spotted them and walked over. He looked annoyed, but when he saw Aubree, he relaxed.

Bree said you guys were making up, he said to Alexia, sitting down next to Aubree.

Alexia stared at Aubree. Making up?

Aubree grabbed his arm. "I just wanted to clear the air!"

The waiter brought the tower. Oysters. Clams. Sashimi. It smelled of the ocean and raw flesh.

Jensen picked up an oyster. "Eat, Alexia. It's rude to stare."

I can't, Alexia said, her voice tight. "The doctor said-"

Jensen slammed his fork down. "God, you are impossible. Aubree is trying to be nice. Eat the damn oyster."

Aubree held one out to Alexia, a smirk playing on her lips. "Just one, Lexie. For peace?"

Alexia looked at the glistening oyster. She could feel a cold sweat breaking out on her forehead, the pain in her side a sharp, insistent pulse. She looked at Jensen. He was looking at her with pure contempt.

Something inside her snapped. It wasn't loud. It was quiet. It was the sound of a thread finally breaking.

Alexia stood up.

She reached into her bag. She pulled out the copy of the divorce agreement she had printed at a shop near the clinic.

She slapped it onto the table, right on top of the crushed ice and the oysters.

I'm not hungry, she said. Her voice was steady.

Jensen stared at the papers soaking up the melting ice.

Since you're both here, Alexia said, looking from him to her. "You can celebrate. Aubree, make sure he signs it. You're good at making him do things."

The restaurant went silent.

Jensen's face turned purple. "Sit down," he hissed.

Alexia turned around.

She walked out. She didn't look back. She didn't hold her side. She walked tall.

Continue to next part

The day I received the $1.8 billion reimbursement, I promptly quit my job. I poured a billion into my fiancé's project and assembled a first-rate medical team for my supposedly paralyzed brother-in-law. On my way home, I called Dakota Snyder, joking that I was now jobless and planning to become a stay-at-home spouse. He hung up without a word. Concerned something might be wrong at home, I rushed back, feeling anxious. As soon as I walked into the yard, I overheard my brother-in-law grumbling that I was a liability. "She still thinks she can remain my sister-in-law? If it weren't for her money, I wouldn't have pretended to be paralyzed!" "And besides, my brother has already landed a rich heiress. That useless woman can wait to be shown the door!" I stood there, shocked. Faking paralysis?

Billionaire Modern Romance

8.8

Dangerously Submerged

8.8

I had been by Leo's side for ten years. But three years ago, his world shattered. His parents betrayed him, leaving him with emotional detachment disorder, depression, and severe mysophobia. He changed completely. He became cold and suspicious. He didn't believe Angelina truly loved him, despite their decade-long relationship. Terrified of betrayal, he tested her constantly. Angelina loved him and endured it all with immense patience. But everything changed when his childhood sweetheart, Samantha, returned.

Billionaire Modern Romance

9.2

Divorcing the Heiress? Bad Idea.

9.2

"Evan!" I called out, my voice bright with genuine delight. "Perfect timing. Come help us choose." He paused in the entryway, his expression unreadable as his gaze swept from me to the strollers, then back again. Something flickered across his face—was it irritation? No, impossible. We never fought. "We're deciding between these two," I continued, gesturing between them with an enthusiasm I hoped would be contagious. "I think the silver one is more practical, but the navy is so beautiful. What do you think? Which one do you see our baby in?" Evan set his briefcase down with a deliberate slowness that made my stomach tighten. He didn't look at the strollers. He didn't look at Sarah. His eyes fixed on me with an intensity that felt wrong, felt cold. I suddenly shivered. "Lia," that was when he called my name, his voice flat and emotionless. "I want a divorce."

Billionaire Modern Romance

8.9

His Ashes, Her Crown

8.9

Four years. That's how long Ruby gave Dale everything: her brilliance, her strategies, her entire future. All for a man who promised to be her family after she lost her parents. One scholarship to London. One shattered glass table. One broken photograph of her parents. That's all it took for Ruby to discover the truth: her boyfriend had been living a double life with his dead best friend's sister, Sofia. While Ruby bled from glass wounds, Dale chose his lover over his girlfriend. While she mourned her parents' destroyed photograph, he was planning a secret engagement. While she stood humiliated in a cheap knockoff dress at Sofia's birthday party, they were already counting down to their wedding. But Dale made one crucial mistake, he underestimated the woman whose brain built his entire company. Now she's on a plane to London with every strategy she ever created for him. Every client weakness. Every business secret. And Dale has no idea what's coming for him. The broken woman he destroyed is gone. What's left is someone with nothing to lose. He stole four years of her life and built his empire on her work. Time to take everything from his. Or not.

Billionaire Modern Romance

8.6

MARRIED TO THE CEO WHO RUINED ME: HIS BRIDE, HIS REVENGE

8.6

He shattered her heart to avenge a past that wasn’t hers. Now he desires her in his bed—as his wife. Marceline Valino once believed in love. She gave her heart—and her innocence—to Cross Dejava, the boy who whispered promises in the dark, igniting dreams of a forever that felt so real. But by morning, her world was left in ruins. Private photos were leaked, her name dragged through the mud, and at the eye of the storm? Cross, smirking, cold, and ruthless. “You mean nothing to me,” he said, delivering a blow that would leave scars. “You’re just the bastard daughter of my father’s mistress.” His vengeance had never aimed at her heart; it was meant to punish the daughter for her mother’s sins—an ex-lover who had torn his family apart. Pregnant and abandoned, Marceline begged for mercy, but all she received was the echo of his silence. When she lost the child, she lost every last piece of the girl she used to be. Now, five years later, she’s preparing to return—broke, desperate, and willing to do anything to save her ailing mother. Anything… except this. Because the man extending a lifeline isn’t a savior. It’s Cross. And he has no desire for her heartfelt apologies; he craves her complete submission. A contract marriage awaits her. No love. No escape. No mercy. But Marceline isn’t the naive girl he once broke. She’s a woman who has risen from the ashes, ready to play his game. And as the pieces of their lives fall into place, she’s determining when—exactly—she will ignite a fire that could burn it all down. The future promises a reckoning, and she's preparing to seize it.

Billionaire Modern Romance

8.9

My Heart, His Spare Part

8.9

My bodyguard, Grant, took the full force of a speeding car meant for me. In that moment, I realized I loved him. He was my protector, and I thought his fierce devotion was mine alone. But in the hospital, I overheard the truth. He hadn't saved me; he'd saved my kidney. I wasn't the woman he loved. I was just the "best option" for his sick sister's transplant. Every tender gesture, every watchful glance, was a lie designed to keep his organ donor safe and compliant. The man I adored saw me as nothing more than a collection of spare parts. The love I thought we shared was a carefully constructed trap, and I had been the fool who walked right in. The girl who believed in fairy tales died in that sterile hospital hallway. I picked up my phone, my hand steady. "Dad," I said, my voice cold as ice. "I'm ready to consider the alliance with the Powell family."

Fantasy Modern Romance

Too Late For Regret, Mr. Carlson

Chapter 8

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