Too Late to Regret: The Dead Wife Who Owns His Empire Now

After hours on the road, the car rolled over thick layers of snow and turned into an area surrounded by towering cedars.

When the small white building came into view, it felt as though a hidden labyrinth had emerged from deep within the mist.

The entire top floor was a luxury hospital suite filled with life-support equipment, yet none of it seemed to matter anymore to the elderly man lying on the bed.

No matter how advanced the machines were, they couldn't stop his life from slipping away bit by bit. The steady beeping only intensified the hollow sense of an approaching countdown.

When the monitoring equipment sounded, Julian took Lydia by the arm and guided her to the bedside.

The elderly man slowly opened his eyes, his gaze traveling from head to toe as he studied the overly thin young woman before him.

The clouded eyes gradually lit up, and his lips trembled faintly.

Julian leaned closer and heard the frail voice whisper, "Help me up. Quickly. I want to see her."

At the instruction, several nurses hurried forward and helped him sit up.

The old man's eyes stayed fixed on Lydia as a soft sigh slowly escaped his lips.

"It's her. It's that child."

He took a few sips of water offered by a nurse, easing the sharp pain surging in his chest.

Still staring at Lydia, he said softly, "Come… sit beside me."

Lydia looked at the hand raised with great effort. After a moment of hesitation, she walked over cautiously.

That hand gently clasped hers, and a look of relief slowly bloomed across the aged face.

"My granddaughter… I have finally found you."

The confusion and doubt in Lydia's heart only deepened, and she had no choice but to ask hesitantly.

"Could there be a mistake? My mother never told me anything like this. She always said she was an orphan, with no family. She even took me back to see the room where she lived at the orphanage. It was small and old, but she said it was the only place she'd ever been happy."

Lydia abruptly fell silent. She stared in shock as tears streamed down Richard's face while she spoke.

One trembling hand tried to wipe away the tears at the corner of his eye, yet he asked her urgently, "What else? Tell me more… about your mother."

Lydia hesitated for a moment, then continued. "She stayed at the orphanage until her teens, then someone took her out. After that, she drifted from job to job. She worked as a factory laborer, and later, she even sold drinks."

She left out many of her mother's hardships. She remembered how her mother always brushed those years aside lightly, yet the fingers holding a cigarette would tremble uncontrollably.

Later on, Cyrus, who frequented night venues, launched a fervent pursuit of her.

They fell in love, married, and soon had her. But Cyrus quickly lost interest, constantly entangling himself with all kinds of women.

He carried on a secret affair with Daphne Shaw, whom he had known since youth, and later made no effort to hide it.

On Lydia's ninth birthday, her mother prepared a lavish dinner by herself and stayed with her to blow out the candles.

In the middle of the night, Lydia jolted awake. The wind howled, the curtains billowed, and the floor-to-ceiling window stood wide open.

"Mom!"

She didn't even have time to cry out as she watched her mother step forward without looking back.

Her body fell through the air, hitting the ground with nothing more than a dull thud.

Terrified, Lydia dropped to her knees and looked down.

Her mother's eyes were closed. Her body lay there, as though freed at last, like dust settling back to the ground.

Cyrus never remarried. He simply continued sinking deeper into his ambiguous relationship with Daphne.

Only when drunk would he fix Lydia with a vicious stare and suddenly curse, "Grace Sterling, what did I ever do to wrong you? Without me, you'd still be out there selling drinks and smiles!"

He smashed his glass to the floor, shards flying everywhere. Pieces lodged into Lydia's calf, and she simply crouched down, clenched her teeth, and pulled them out.

As if nothing had ever happened.

Before her mother jumped that day, she seemed to have sat by Lydia's bed for a very long time.

She had said, "Lydia, from now on, you'll be on your own. Live well. And if it ever gets too hard, I will be waiting for you."

Lydia remembered these words clearly, even though she was never certain her mother had truly said them.

Now, she didn't know why she had told so much to a man who was still a stranger.

Her tears kept falling.

Richard's eyes were filled with guilt and regret. With a trembling hand, he carefully wiped away her tears.

"Dear child," he said. "You have a family now. Even if… even if I'm not here anymore, no one will dare bully you."