Too Late For Regret: My Lost Heir

Julian woke up with a crick in his neck. The hospital chair was designed for durability, not comfort. The smell of antiseptic and stale coffee filled his nose.

He sat up and rubbed his face. The morning light was filtering through the blinds, casting striped shadows across the bed. Harper was still asleep. Her skin looked translucent, almost blue in the harsh light. She looked fragile. Like a porcelain doll that had been dropped and glued back together.

His phone vibrated against his thigh. He pulled it out.

Grandmother Sterling.

Julian flinched. He cleared his throat and slid his thumb across the screen to answer. He walked quickly out of the room into the hallway.

Grandmother, he said. Good morning.

You are late, the old woman's voice crackled over the line. Sharp. Imperious.

Late for what?

The update, she snapped. I received a report this morning, Julian. My sources tell me your wife was seen entering a clinic in Midtown at dawn. Is there something you aren't telling me? Is she finally doing her duty for the family line?

Julian felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. He leaned against the hospital wall. Grandmother, she... she just has a stomach flu. It's nothing.

Don't lie to me, she interrupted. The board meeting is next month. If I don't see stability in your personal life, if I don't see a future for this family, I might just rethink my vote on the merger.

It was a threat. A direct one.

Tonight, she said. The family dinner. Bring Seraphina. I want to see her.

Julian closed his eyes. Grandmother, Seraphina is... busy.

I don't care if she is meeting the President. Bring her. Or don't bother coming yourself. And tell the board to find a new CEO.

The line went dead.

Julian stared at the phone. He cursed under his breath. He couldn't tell his grandmother about the divorce yet. Her heart condition was precarious. The shock could kill her. He needed time.

He dialed Seraphina's number.

The subscriber you are calling is powered off.

He groaned. He dialed the penthouse landline. No answer. He called the doorman.

Mrs. Sterling left early this morning, sir, the doorman said. With a suitcase.

Julian's chest tightened. A suitcase? Where would she go? She had nowhere. The Vanderbilt fortune was gone. Her family was gone.

He remembered the old Vanderbilt estate. The one the bank had repossessed, the one his company now held the deed to. It was a ruin, but it was the only place she had an emotional attachment to.

He drove there. It was empty.

He called his assistant to track her phone's last known location before it was turned off.

City Center Clinic.

Julian frowned. Why was she at a clinic?

He drove fast, weaving through the morning traffic. He pulled up to the clinic and saw her sitting in the waiting room through the glass facade. She was wearing a hoodie and sunglasses. She looked small.

He texted her. Pick up the phone. Grandmother wants to see you. One last act.

He saw her look at her phone. She didn't move.

He dialed again. This time, she answered.

Sterling, she said. Her voice was ice.

Don't call me that, he said. Where are you?

I am busy.

Grandmother called, Julian said. She demands to see you tonight at the estate. If you don't come, she threatens the CEO position.

That sounds like a you problem, Seraphina said.

Julian gripped the steering wheel. Sera, please. Just tonight. I need you to pretend. Just for a few hours.

My appearance fee is high, she said.

He was taken aback. Since when did she talk like this? I will double the alimony.

I don't want your money, she said. I have an important surgery... an appointment. I can't leave.

Surgery? What surgery? Plastic surgery? Julian snapped, frustration boiling over. You're leaving me and the first thing you do is get a nose job? Cancel it.

Seraphina was silent for a long moment.

If you don't come tonight, Julian said, lowering his voice, playing his ace. I will have my legal team enforce the strictest interpretation of the pre-nup. I will freeze every account you have access to. I will tie you up in litigation for so long you won't be able to buy a cup of coffee in this city without my permission.

He heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end. She had no money. He knew that. Without his support, she was destitute.

Fine, she said. Her voice trembled with suppressed rage. I will be there. But I have a condition.

Name it.

After tonight, you never threaten me again. With anything.

Agreed, Julian said.

See you at seven, she said, and hung up.

Inside the clinic, Seraphina lowered the phone. She looked at Zoe, who was standing in the doorway of the procedure room.

I have to go, Seraphina said.

Sera, no, Zoe said. You're already here. Let's just get it done.

He threatened to freeze everything, Seraphina said. I have nothing, Zoe. No cash. No cards. If he locks the accounts, I can't even pay for a cab to get away from him.

Zoe cursed.

I have to reschedule. Next week.

Zoe sighed. She grabbed a chart. Fine. But listen to me. Your blood work came back. Your progesterone is critically low. And with your stress levels... if you don't rest, you might miscarry before you even get back here.

Seraphina let out a bitter laugh. Maybe that would be easier.

Don't say that, Zoe said softly. Here. Take these.

She handed her a bottle of pills.

Julian sat in his car, staring at the clinic door. He watched Seraphina walk out, get into a taxi, and drive away.

His phone rang. It was the nurse from the hospital.

Mr. Sterling! Come quick! Miss West is awake and she's hyperventilating! She says she can't breathe!

Julian slammed the car into gear and sped away, the image of Seraphina in her hoodie fading from his rearview mirror.