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Too Late For Regret: The Surgeon's Comeback

Chapter 6 

Word Count: 760    |    Released on: Today at 15:26

rittny only dreamed of wearing. The air of quiet luxury she now exuded was

up, ready with a sarcastic comment, but the words died when Arely dropped a t

ease agreement and a f

" Brittny snapped, her

from my account," Arely said, her voice flat and devoi

ridiculous. As soon as Kole's new movie is announced, he's buying me

ut her phone a

phant from the phone's speaker. "...gave Mickey the key ca

ny's face. She lunged for th

y's wrist in a grip of steel. She applied a little p

LAPD. Conspiracy to commit assault is a serious charge," Arely said calmly. "N

eplaced by tears. "Arely, please... We'v

a terrifying sound. She kicked an empty sui

m the closet, tossing them onto the floor. Designer knock-of

ittny's fear turned back to rage. She grabb

catching the lamp mid-air. With a flick of her wrist,

e Brittny's spirit. She stared at Arely, her body trembling. Thi

. "Don't bother calling Kole for help," she said, her voi

u do?" Britt

he gave Brittny's suitcase another kick. "You have five minutes. Th

rambled, stuffing her clothes haphazardly into th

o the door, a breaking news ale

d industry party. It showed Mickey O'Malley, his face

ed, his voice slurring. "You think you

ckey's gloating text to Kole: She's all mine. You'll get your p

out a stra

ing her legs, and watched the beautiful

. The quiet, pathetic Arely she had bull

the door open and fled, dragging her s

tment wa

took a deep, cleansing breath. The

phone and dialed th

u," she said. "I'll take it. Cash

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Too Late For Regret: The Surgeon's Comeback
Too Late For Regret: The Surgeon's Comeback
“I was just a struggling actress in Hollywood, desperate for a chance to prove myself. But the people I trusted most pushed me into hell. My boyfriend, Kole, and my best friend, Brittny, drugged me and handed my hotel room key to an abusive, greasy producer. They traded my body just so Kole could secure a movie role. As the producer pinned me to the bed and tore at my clothes, the original me died of sheer, paralyzing terror. I saw the text message on his phone, a gloating confirmation of my ruin. "She's all mine. You'll get your part." I realized the two people I loved most had treated me like a cheap bargaining chip. While I was being assaulted, they were probably celebrating, building their future fame on my absolute destruction. I didn't understand why they would do this. I gave them all my love and loyalty, only to be betrayed and discarded like trash. The sickening mix of love, betrayal, and paralyzing fear should have been the end of my pathetic, helpless life. But instead of breaking, a cold, calculating consciousness awakened inside me. The soul of "Reaper," a legendary underground doctor and ruthless operative, took over this fragile body. I snapped the producer's wrist, collected my blackmail evidence, and walked out into the cold Los Angeles night. This new life is a war, and it's time to make them pay.”