Too Late For Regret: The Surgeon Heiress

Areli stepped away from the hard edge of the marble island.

She walked straight toward Holli, who was still sitting on the floor behind Courtland. Her bare feet slapped against the hardwood.

Holli saw her coming. She shrank her shoulders back and let out a small, fake whimper of fear.

Courtland immediately stepped sideways. He planted his feet, using his large body to block Areli's path to Holli.

Areli did not slow down. She simply sidestepped, moving quickly around Courtland's right arm before he could grab her.

She raised her right hand high in the air and swung it down hard. Her palm connected with Holli's cheek. The loud, sharp crack of the slap echoed off the high ceiling.

Holli's head snapped to the side. She let out a high-pitched scream, clutching her red cheek.

Courtland's eyes widened in absolute shock. He stared at Areli, his mouth slightly open, unable to process what she had just done.

He reached out and grabbed Areli's wrist. His fingers dug hard into her skin, his grip tight and punishing.

Areli twisted her arm violently. She yanked her wrist out of his grip, leaving red marks on her own skin.

She looked Courtland dead in the eye. "I want a divorce," she said. Her voice did not shake.

Courtland let out a harsh, mocking laugh. He shook his head. "You are just throwing a tantrum for attention," he said, his tone dripping with disgust.

Areli turned her back on him. She walked down the long hallway and entered the master bedroom.

She walked straight to her vanity table. She opened the top drawer of the velvet jewelry box and pulled out the heavy, five-carat diamond wedding ring.

She walked back out to the living room. Courtland was still standing there, glaring at her. She threw the ring directly at his feet.

The heavy platinum band hit the hardwood floor. It bounced twice, making a sharp, scraping sound against the wood before rolling to a stop near his leather shoes.

Areli turned around and walked straight to the private elevator. She pressed the button for the lobby.

"If you walk out that door, you will have absolutely nothing!" Courtland roared at her back. His face was red with anger.

The steel elevator doors slid shut, cutting off the sound of his shouting completely.

Areli watched the digital numbers count down as the elevator descended. She took a deep breath, feeling the tight knot in her chest finally start to loosen.

The doors opened to the lobby. She walked past the front desk and pushed through the heavy glass doors, stepping out onto the Manhattan street.

It was pouring rain. Huge, cold drops of water were falling from the black sky.

The building's doorman rushed forward. He popped open a large black umbrella and tried to hold it over her head.

Areli shook her head. She pushed the umbrella handle away and stepped directly into the storm.

The freezing rain hit her skin instantly. Within seconds, her expensive silk evening gown was soaked through, clinging heavily to her legs.

A massive, unmarked black Maybach pulled up to the curb. It made almost no sound as the tires rolled over the wet pavement.

The rear passenger door swung open immediately. A man in a dark suit stood in the rain, holding the door wide.

Julian Stephenson sat inside the spacious, leather-lined cabin. He was wearing a custom-tailored suit. He reached out and handed her a thick, dry cashmere towel.

Areli climbed into the back seat. The heavy door slammed shut behind her, cutting off the sound of the rain. She took the towel and began drying her wet hair.

Julian picked up a crystal decanter. He poured a generous amount of amber whiskey into a glass and handed it to her. "The family has been waiting," he said, his voice calm and steady. "It is time to come home."

Areli took the glass. She tilted her head back and swallowed the burning whiskey in one continuous gulp. She lowered the glass, her eyes sharp and clear. The ruthless, calculating heir of the Stephenson family had fully returned.