img Too Late For Regret: My Billionaire Husband  /  Chapter 2 No.2 | 0.67%
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Chapter 2 No.2

Word Count: 1179    |    Released on: 12/01/2026

he sat in a high-backed velvet chair, a cup of bone china tea balanced precariously in her h

he doorway quietly, but her

trice said without

breath, steeling herself.

inical detachment Ellsworth had shown. "You look dreadful. Have

, not salt, but Beatrice didn't believe in medical

the folded ultrasound report on the te

alfway to her mouth. Th

, terrifying smile spread across the old woma

ly. The curse is broken. Three gene

! Get the decorator on the line. We need the nursery done in pink. Pale pink, not t

again. She was just the vesse

o my room,"

o. Rest. We can't have you looking like

uest room she had been subtly migrated to over the last month-and closed th

her, and a wave of exhaustion hit her. But when sh

nd swiped acc

e? Is t

nd achingly familiar. It was a v

Mayer?" she

is out of the blue. I know you're... married now. But I'm looking at the candidate list for the doctoral program at Stanford,

eaked out, hot and fast. "Profes

t because you got a ring on your finger. I have a spot

ardrobe door. She saw herself-the swollen face, the dull ey

ked out. "I'm... I

have housing." Evan's voice dropped, be

ion hung

he was d

oor slam. Heavy footsteps echoed

iked in

go," Cressi

ged. "The offer stands un

d stop them. "But I need time. I have... baggage to cl

research firm," Evan said immediately, matching h

o

y. Her heart was racing, but for the first time in

r handl

ed to her feet,

looked tired, his tie loosened, his jacket over his

paint downstairs," he said, his voi

ssie said.

back to her face. There was a moment-a fleeting second-where

niffed the ai

ike antisept

Cressie reminded him. "

st her to the closet, tossing his jacket on the bed. "Beatrice wants us at t

, the air shifted. Th

rneath the sandalwood and musk,

't Chan

e. Or perhaps, it was a diffe

t him, her stomach c

rummaging throu

thi

r than a mistress. It was a lifestyle. He didn't just have

passenger seat of his Aston Martin. The

ankles were throbbing. She reached for

slid back

ored for someone with legs much longe

hboard. She pressed the b

llsworth snapped, h

moved," Cressi

it," he lied. He

inment screen. The Bluetooth

iPhone c

14, 11

he was in London for the merger talks. He hadn't bee

lights blurred into streaks of red and

ng Evan's offer in her mind li

-

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