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Too Late For Regret: My Genius Wife Novel Cover

Too Late For Regret: My Genius Wife

I was hemorrhaging on the cold linoleum of the emergency room, my jeans soaked in blood as I begged the nurse to call my husband. I needed Erik’s signature for an emergency surgery to save my life, but he wouldn't pick up. When I finally reached his assistant, the truth hit me harder than the physical pain. Erik was in the same hospital, just a few floors up, giving strict orders not to be disturbed because his sister-in-law, Athena, was having a "difficult" delivery. I signed my own consent form and woke up hollow, the pregnancy gone. Shaking and barely able to walk, I dragged myself to the VIP ward only to find Erik rocking Athena’s baby with a look of pure, paternal love—a look he had never given me. "You’re just trying to pull focus because my brother’s heir was born," he sneered when I finally confronted him at home later that night. "Stop the drama, Carie. Was it a migraine or just cramps this time?" He didn't believe me when I told him I’d lost our child, and he certainly didn't believe me when I told him Athena had intentionally rammed my car two years ago to cause my first miscarriage. To him, I was just "low-stock" trash who couldn't provide an heir, while Athena was the fragile widow who needed his protection. His mother stood there laughing, threatening to freeze my credit cards if I walked out the door, while Erik watched with cold indifference. They thought they had trapped a penniless orphan, but they forgot one thing: I was the one who designed the very empire they were standing on. As I walked out into the blizzard, I didn't just leave a divorce petition on the floor; I triggered the code to short their family stock into the ground. "I'm not just taking my name back, Erik," I whispered as the gates slammed shut. "I'm taking everything."
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Chapter 2

The car slowly stopped outside the wrought iron gate of Flynn Manor.

Carie's lower abdomen aches and aches, dull and persistent, reminding her of the emptiness within.

"I'm home."

She said softly, and then got out of the car.

She didn't turn on the light in the foyer. She groped in the familiar darkness with her memory, her hand sliding up along the mahogany handrail.

In the master bedroom, she pulls her black Rimowa suitcase from the closet.

She didn't pack everything. She didn't want everything.

She threw in jeans, sweaters, underwear. Essentials.

She looked at the dresser. Erik gave her diamond earrings on their first anniversary. Sapphire necklace for Christmas.

She left them behind. They are all lies.

She grabbed her passport from the safe. She took the folder containing her birth certificate and some old documents she had been hiding.

The headlights swept across the bedroom ceiling. The roar of the Aston Martin engine cuts through the silence.

He is back.

She didn't stop packing. Just as the bedroom door slammed open, she zipped up her suitcase.

Eric stood there. He looked disheveled, with a loose tie and his hair disheveled by the wind.

But the first thing that hits the nose is the smell.

Beneath the smell of a winter storm, he smells of hospital disinfectant water and baby powder.

Bile rushed down her throat.

"What the hell are you doing?" Eric asked. He kicked the door shut. "Julian says you're in the hospital. I called the front desk and they said you were discharged from the hospital on your own against the doctor's orders. ”

Kelly straightened up. The room was slightly dizzy, but she locked her knees.

"I'm leaving, Eric."

He let out a piercing laugh of disbelief. He walked to the dresser and began to unbutton his shirt.

"Stop acting, Kelly. It's late. Athena had a bad night with the kids. She had a nervous breakdown. I have been dealing with the doctor and her for twelve hours. ”

"Athena," Kelly repeated. The name tastes like ashes.

"Yes, Athena. She needs support. She had no one around her. "He threw his shirt on the chair." Then I got a call from Julian saying that you were running around in the emergency room yelling at me? What is it this time? Migraine? Or dysmenorrhea? ”

He turned to face her, his eyes cold and full of accusations.

"You know, the timing is questionable. Even for you. Trying to steal the show on the day my brother's child was born? ”

"That's what you think?" Kelly asked. Her voice was dangerously calm.

"I think you're trying to renegotiate the prenuptial agreement," Eric scoffed. He took a step closer to her. "Do you think I'll sympathize with you if you pretend to be a medical emergency? I know you, Kelly. You can't wait to make money. ”

Her stomach churned. The physical disgust was so strong that she took a step back.

"Do you think I'm pretending to be sick?"

"Isn't it?" He reached out and ran his fingers over the sleeves of her coat. "Take off your coat, Kelly. You can't go anywhere. ”

His touch was like an electric shock. But not that good feeling. It was like touching a live wire.

She didn't think. Her body reacts before the brain processes instructions.

She waved her right hand.

Snap!

The sound was like a gunshot in a quiet room.

Her palm, with all the strength left in her, landed heavily on his cheek.

Eric's head slammed to the side.

He froze. The silence that followed was deafening.

Slowly, he turned to look at her. A bright red handprint was blooming on his cheek. His eyes widened, filled with shock and rising anger.

"You just ...... Hit me? He touched his face, as if to check for blood.

Her hands hurt hot. It throbs with the heartbeat.

"I've had enough," Kelly said. Her voice was smooth. "We're done. I want a divorce. ”

Eric stared at her for a second, and then he smiled. It was a cruel and cruel laugh.

"Divorce? You? He shook his head. Kelly, look at yourself. You have nothing. You are nothing without me. The prenuptial agreement is ironclad. You leave this house and you will leave with nothing. You will live on the streets. ”

"I don't care," Kelly said.

She grabbed the handle of the suitcase.

She walked towards him. He blocked her way, and his tall body blocked the doorway.

"Get out of the way," she said.

"How about otherwise?"

She slammed her shoulder into his chest. It was a pathetic attempt, but sheer audacity made him stumble back.

She pushed him away and walked over.

"If you walk out of that door," Eric growled behind her, his voice trembling with anger, "you don't want to come back when you have no money! ”

She didn't look back. She walked into the hallway, the wheels of her suitcase humming on the hardwood floor.

She walked to the top of the stairs.

Brandee Flynn was standing at the bottom of the stairs with her arms crossed, blocking her way.

"Get out of the way." Carie said softly.

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