Too Late For Regret, Mr. Carlisle

few design details with

left for a makeup trial, her departure marked by a suspicious, backward

remaining staff away, closing the heavy doors to the VIP lo

ce between them. The air crackled. He stared down at her, his eyes burning with an

, practiced smile gracing her lips. "I believe I alrea

wife's name. It landed like a physical blow, and s

for her face as if to touch

olite but firm distance between them. "Mr. Carlis

ation. "Your eyes," he murmured, almost to himself. "The way

many times before. "I've been told there's a resemblance. It's a coincidenc

aid, her voice dropping, laced with a subtle mockery, "your fixation on a stranger has more

ld almost see the ghosts rising behind his eyes-the car, the cliff, the black water. A familiar, sharp pain flicke

needed an answer. He needed to lance this b

" he rasped, h

ifted a hand to her auburn hair and plucked a single, long strand. She held it out to him,

ky smooth. "You can compare it to a sample from my adoptive parents. The M

tion. Her confidence was absolute, her story seamless. I

voice dropping to a whisper. "Be careful what you wish for, Mr. Carlisle. Some ghosts don't sta

the strand an

bled. "What does tha

For whichever answer comes." She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes cold. "Because if I were her-if I

warred with desperation on his face. If she were truly his Chloe, would she be so br

st as if it were the most precious thing in the world. The confrontation, t

turning on his heel and pr

finally relaxing into something genuine and cold. He had com

ction stared back at her-pale, composed, unreadable. "That was for Leo

the second square. And