Too Late For Regret, Mr. Carlisle

Chapter 3 Tearing Up the Chains of the Prenup

Word Count: 986 | Released on: Today at 09:51

behind her, the latch clicking shut with a sound of finality. The noise of

ence of

the guests, spinning a tale of Avery's emotional instabili

her reflection in the mirror. The face looking back was hers, but younger. The fine lines of stress around her

caped her lips, s

ath a velvet tray of earrings lay a stiff, cream-colored envelope. The marriage certificate. And tuc

uptial a

amily business for Leo's future. She, a 25-year-old woman in love, had believed him. She hadn't cared about the clauses that stripped her of any claim to his fortune, that stipul

ol. A willing lam

Bennett stood there, his face a thundercloud. He had le

ed, his voice low and menacing. "You

d at him. The perfectly tailored Tom Ford suit, the Patek Philippe watch, the handso

dangerously soft. "Or I interrupted yo

lenged. "Celine is a friend of the family. You will treat her

ing. The CEO of Carlisle Group,

the last thread of her o

e, and slammed it down on the marble top of t

urprised by the vio

rd a faint commotion from the living room-a child's cry, a woman's shriek

chin, her eyes

t a di

ain processing the words. Then he let out

hen he felt a situation slipping from his control. "Don't be pathetic, Avery. If this is

ckage. The thought was so insulting, so utterly Bennett, that she didn't even

, dripping with fake concern, drifted down th

h blood, returned with a vengeance. The air in this room felt

ace larger than her first apartment. It was lined with racks of designer

l bag from a top shelf, a bag she'

Back to your parents? They can't afford to keep you in the style you've become accustomed to. You'll be back

d a few sets of underwear. She stuffed them into the bag. Her eyes swept over the velvet-lined tra

lamed. The hysterical wife who "caused" the incident. No. Let them handle their own mess. Self

l bag shut. The soun

er brushing his expensive suit. She didn't

alread

Chapter End

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Too Late For Regret, Mr. Carlisle

Yuan Xiluo Modern

“I was dying in a mangled SUV during a freak blizzard, my ribs crushed by the steering column. With my last ounce of strength, I called my husband for help. But Bennett just impatiently told me not to ruin his dinner reservations. Through the phone, I heard the sweet, cloying laughter of his mistress, Celine. I even heard my own son cheerfully calling her "Auntie Celine" and asking for ice cream. "Your son is having a good time. For once, don't make everything about you. Stop this ridiculous game and go home." Bennett growled those words and hung up on me to go shopping with her. For ten years, I had given up my family's corporate empire to be his perfect wife, only to be entirely erased and replaced. As the freezing cold seeped into my bones, I realized the restrictive prenup I signed for love was just a cage. I died alone in the snow, filled with rage. I hated Bennett for his cruelty, and Celine for her lies. But most of all, I hated myself for being so weak and believing love was enough. As my heart gave its final beat, a desperate thought burned through the dark void. If I could do it all again... Opening my eyes, I was no longer in that cold, metal tomb. I was back at my son's fifth birthday party three years ago. Celine was just about to serve him the cake laced with his deadly allergen. This time, I wouldn't be the hysterical wife taking the blame. I packed my bags, walked out the door, and told him to expect the divorce papers.”