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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 3

Carie stopped.

Brandee stands at the foot of the stairs like a drip-mouth beast in Chanel. She handed her mink coat to a maid and did not take her eyes off Carie for a moment.

Her gaze swept over the suitcase in Carie's hand, the corners of her mouth curled upwards.

"Where are you going?" She dragged her voice out and said, "Or is this another tantrum you're seeking attention?" ”

Carie didn't answer.

She held the handle of her suitcase tighter and began to walk down the stairs.

As she reached the last step, Brandy stood sideways, blocking Kali's path. She raised a manicured hand.

"Put the bag down, Carie."

"Please let me go." Carie said, trying to get around her.

She moved again, blocking her with her body. I said, put it down. The chef is off tonight. Athena needs her bone broth. Organic, grass-fed. You know the recipe. ”

Carie stared at her. "You want me to make soup?"

"This is the least you can do." Brandy said sharply, "Since you obviously can't provide an heir for this family, you can at least serve a woman who is recovering." ”

Carie looked up and looked upstairs.

Her husband, Erik, was standing at the top of the stairs, watching.

He had one hand in his pocket and even a glass of whiskey in the other.

Nausea.

Carie loosened the handle of the suitcase. The suitcase "banged" and fell on the steps.

"Okay." She said. A strange calm enveloped her. It was the calm of a hurricane's eye.

Brandi smiled sarcastically. "Good girl. Don't take too long. ”

She turned around and walked proudly to the restaurant.

Carie walks into the kitchen. It was a chef's kitchen with sparkling stainless steel and copper utensils.

On the cooking table, the ingredients are already laid out.

Expensive beef bones, organic vegetables. Heavy Le Creuset enamel pot.

She turned on the gas stove. She turned the flame up to the maximum.

She fills the pot with water. She didn't put the bones.

She just let the water heat up.

She watched the bubbles form. First small, then big, tumbling, boiling violently. Steam began to rise, blurring the windows.

In the restaurant, she heard Brandy's voice. "She's so ungrateful, Eric. After we did so much for her. ”

Carie put on insulated gloves.

The water is now boiling and tumbling, enough to cause a person to die a painful death.

She picked up the pot. Even through gloves, the pan is still heavy and hot.

She walked out of the kitchen.

Brandi sits in the main seat of a long mahogany dining table. Eric leaned against the sideboard, shaking the drink in his glass.

When she came in, they all looked up.

"It's finally here." Brandy said. Then she frowned. "That's not a soup bowl, Carie. Do you know nothing about table setting? ”

Carie walked straight to the table. She didn't stop.

She looked at Brandy. She looked at Eric.

"This is your soup." She said.

She raised the pot high and slammed it into the dining table.

Wow.

The voice was deafening. The heavy enamel pot smashed the delicate porcelain ornaments. Boiling water gushes out like a geyser.

The steam billowed out, scorching and white.

"Ah!" Brandy screamed, hot water splashed on the hem of her silk dress, and she jumped away. She hurriedly stepped away from the table and stumbled over her chair.

The whiskey glass in Eric's hand fell. The cup shattered on the ground. He protected his face when the steam hit his face.

"Are you crazy?" He roared, his eyes widening.

Carie slammed off the insulated gloves on her hands and threw them into a puddle of boiling water and broken porcelain pieces.

"You want to serve?" She screamed, her voice hoarse, "I have served you for two years!" I have you treat me like servants in my own house! ”

Her trembling fingers pointed at Brandy.

"You starve me! You forced me to drink those disgusting herbal mixtures until I spit it out, and told me that I was 'too acidic' to give birth to a boy! ”

The maids in the corridor huddled together in fright.

"You're a waste!" Brandi screamed, covering his chest, "Street garbage!" You don't belong here! ”

"You're right." Carie laughed, and that laughter sounded hysterical, "I don't belong to this incestuous, sick little kingdom you have built. ”

"Incest?" Eric's face turned purple. He pounced on her. "Shut up!"

He reached for her arm.

Carie is faster.

She grabbed the half bottle of whiskey from the sideboard.

She uncorked the bottle and splashed the amber liquid directly on his face.

"Cough!" Eric choked, and the alcohol stung his eye. He staggered back, scratching his face.

She didn't wait.

She turned around sharply and strode towards the stairs. She grabbed her suitcase.

She walked to the heavy oak gate.

She grabbed the doorknob with both hands and pulled it open suddenly.

The cold wind howls and rushes into the warm foyer, with snow and ice.

"Carie!" Brandy screamed behind her.

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