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Too Late For My CEO's Regret

Chapter 3 No.3

Word Count: 799    |    Released on: 22/01/2026

er, charged with the static of survival. The people who hadn't

the door closed. On his des

File: Grac

education-he knew she was brilliant-an

Status:

ndard Arial font, but it

rr

n his mouth. He scanned dow

act: Martha Ma

. Why not

ic. She was making barely above entry-level wa

ia?" he whispered to the empty

freedom, someone who wasn't burdened by a legacy.

ubicle, married to a ghost who wasn't

intercom butto

HR Director was on the l

idger said, cutting through the

d ask for a salary advance six months a

er hu

dsh

ling. The husb

t. He needed to see the reality of her life up close, t

ane's attempt to hand him a schedule. He

ked through the rows of cubicles. Heads sn

d the b

he hot water dispenser, dunking a tea b

her eyes that makeup couldn't hide. Her b

ing to two oth

red. "God, he's gorgeous. I'd let h

ea. "I didn't get a go

pped into t

need glasse

ng women turned pale and practi

e turned around slowly, clut

voice was steady, but he saw t

sso maker that was reserved for management, but no one was going to st

led the space, overpowering t

is ankles. He looked her up and down, let

his floor is ter

a replied, her chi

step closer to her, invading her personal space. He could smell her

voice dropping so

really lowered, Gra

small, a tightening of h

are fine," she

wasn't wearing a ring. "Where's the happy hus

. "That's none o

this building i

f his coffee. He looked at the oth

o work," he

crambl

cia one last time. "Y

the 'Mrs.' l

watery tea. He felt a twisted sense of satisfacti

ad succeeded. So why did he fee

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Too Late For My CEO's Regret
Too Late For My CEO's Regret
“I was just another invisible marketing clerk at the Jennings Group, a single mother counting pennies to pay for my daughter's medical bills. Then the glass doors of the executive elevator opened, and the new CEO walked in. It was Bridger Jennings, the man who had shattered my world five years ago and left me to pick up the pieces alone. He wasn't the boy I once loved; he was a ruthless tycoon who looked through me with a gaze of total, crushing indifference. The torment started immediately. Bridger targeted me in front of the department, cutting the late-night transportation I relied on and mocking my "supportive husband"-a man who didn't even exist. When he spotted a red smudge of paint on my neck, he mistook it for a love bite from a rival. His jealousy turned into a weapon, and he buried me under a mountain of impossible work, sneering that I should let my husband provide for me instead. I stayed up until dawn to finish the task, only to realize someone had sabotaged my files to ensure my termination. My manager threatened to fire me on the spot, and Bridger stood by with a cold smile, waiting for me to crawl and beg for mercy. I couldn't understand why he was so obsessed with destroying the life I had built from the ashes of our breakup. Did he still care enough to hate me, or was he just trying to prove I was nothing more than a smudge on the glass of his empire? Slumping against my desk, I finally found the digital footprint of the person who tampered with my work. Bridger thinks he has me cornered, but he doesn't know I'm the secret artist he's been desperately trying to hire-or that he's the father of the child he's punishing me for. The war has just begun.”