Too Late For Regret, Mr. Billionaire

Blood trailed down each step of the staircase in Hawthorne Hall.

“B*tch, how dare you use that b*st*rd child in your womb to force Henry to break up with me?”

Rose Carter’s face twisted with ferocity, her eyes wide and bloodshot, her shrill voice dripping with malice. She twirled the knife in her hand, its cold gleam sending a shiver through Margaret Walker.

The blood running along the blade was Margaret’s, spilled from the wound Rose had inflicted on her arm moments ago.

“That child, and you, should have died long ago.”

As Rose spoke, the knife came to a halt right in front of Margaret’s abdomen, making her tremble uncontrollably as cold sweat broke out across her skin. Instinctively, she clutched her stomach.

“Rose... don’t do this...”

“The baby is innocent.”

“If you really kill my son, you’ll spend the rest of your life in prison...”

Margaret’s voice was hoarse with fear, yet her words only drove Rose further into madness.

“B*tch, you still dare to threaten me? D*mn you!”

Rose snarled and lunged forward, stabbing again. Blood burst from Margaret’s right arm once more, leaving a streak of crimson across the hallway.

Margaret cried out in pain, clutching her arm as panic overtook her. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest, cold sweat soaking her back.

“Rose, calm down. I really didn’t force Henry to leave you.”

“I only said that if he had cheated on me, we would divorce.”

“However, because he was worried it would affect the cooperation between our two corporations, he knelt down and begged me to forgive him.”

“And he even promised to cut off all ties with you.”

Margaret tried to explain, hoping to calm Rose down, though the situation itself was utterly ridiculous.

She was Henry’s wife, yet she had to explain herself just to soothe the emotions of his mistress, his ex-girlfriend. 

After hearing her, Rose clearly had no intention of letting her go. Her gaze turned vicious to the extreme.

“Are you feeling proud of yourself?” Rose sneered. 

“Showing off that Henry still loves you, that he willingly abandoned me because of you?”

“You b*tch, Henry doesn’t love you at all.”

“The only person he has ever loved is me. He only married you for the cooperation between the two corporations.”

Rose lifted the knife, her voice dropping lower.

“He doesn’t even want to go back to you. It’s just that divorcing you right now would give his uncle the chance to drive him out of the company!”

“It’s all because of you, and that b*st*rd child.”

Rose gritted her teeth, biting her lip viciously.

“As long as you die, Henry and I can finally be happy together.”

She let out a cold, sinister laugh as she stepped forward.

“Your parents are probably waiting for you and that b*st*rd child in hell.”

“Say your final goodbye to this life.”

With a sharp thrust. 

Before Margaret could even react, the knife plunged straight into her abdomen.

A searing pain tore through her body, forcing her to collapse, trembling violently.

“Die, b*tch!”

Rose viciously drove the knife into Margaret’s heart once more, then let go of the handle and shoved her forward with force. Losing all balance, Margaret fell down the staircase.

Bang.

Bang.

She tumbled down several steps in succession, her bones feeling as if they were shattering, blood staining each step a deep red.

Blood flowed not only from her arm and abdomen, but also from beneath her, soaking through the dress she wore. Darkness clouded her vision, her breath growing faint, and she could feel a life slipping away from her body.

Her son...

No... it couldn’t be...

Struggling, Margaret raised a trembling hand to her stomach and saw bright blood.

Her breathing became so faint it was nearly imperceptible, the blood loss worsening with every second.

Her vision blurred more and more.

Click.

At that moment, the door opened. Henry had just stepped inside and was startled by the scene on the staircase. Margaret’s eyes lit up, as if she had found her last glimmer of hope.

Then.

“Ah, Henry, it hurts so much.”

Rose suddenly collapsed to the ground, her eyes glistening with tears as she clutched her leg. She blinked up at Henry, her voice soft and pitiful.

“Margaret pushed me... it hurts... I’m bleeding...”

She spoke in a fragile tone, and Henry ignored Margaret, immediately rushing to Rose’s side.

“Henry... help... our son...”

Margaret gasped, using the last of her strength to reach out toward him, clinging to that fragile thread of hope.

If Henry took her to the hospital, perhaps their son could still be saved.

She looked at Henry with desperate hope, and he looked back at her, hesitation flickering in his eyes. 

His lips pressed together as he was about to step toward her, only to be stopped by Rose, who clung to him, pleading softly, her voice growing weaker.

“Henry, can you take me to the hospital?”

Henry tore his gaze away from Margaret and carefully helped Rose to her feet.

“I’ll take you to the hospital.”

He said it calmly, without sparing Margaret a single glance as she lay in a pool of blood.

As if she were nothing more than a stranger.

Without another thought, Henry turned and lifted Rose into his arms.

The last glimmer of hope in Margaret was shattered, leaving only despair behind.

She went still, staring at the man she had loved for six years, her heart breaking into pieces.

The man who once missed an important board meeting just to come home and take care of her when she was sick.

The man who had shed tears at their wedding, solemnly promising to love her for a lifetime.

The man who had smiled like a child when he learned she was pregnant, vowing to become a good father.

That same man had not only betrayed her but also abandoned her after his mistress pushed her down the stairs.

Her vision dimmed further, her breathing growing heavier.

Margaret suddenly felt as if her entire life had been nothing but a cruel joke, built upon Henry’s lies.

Regret surged within her like a rising tide, making her chest ache.

Tears slid silently down her beautiful face.

“Henry, goodbye.”

Her voice was so soft it was almost inaudible.

“If there is a next life... I will make you and Rose pay.”

And this time, Margaret would never be foolish enough to love Henry again.

Blinding sunlight filtered through the curtains, spilling into the room and making Margaret instinctively squint. She opened her eyes tiredly, her entire body feeling heavy.

“Finally awake, are you?”

A familiar voice sounded from above, causing Margaret to tilt her head hazily. She immediately saw the handsome face of her brother, Cole Walker, frowning down at her.

Cole?

Hadn’t Cole died a year ago in a car accident?

And... hadn’t she already died?

What is going on?

Margaret looked around in confusion and soon realized she was in her own room at home, the pink room she loved.

Not at Hawthorne Hall, nor in the master bedroom of that mansion.

“What’s wrong? Spaced out?”

“Say something. Still mad?”

With a light tap, Cole knocked gently against Margaret’s forehead, snapping her out of her daze.

“Cole, you’re still alive?”

Margaret’s words instantly darkened Cole’s expression.

“What do you mean, Margaret?