APKDock Logo
Chapters
share
Too Late For Regret: My Dead Heart Novel Cover

Too Late For Regret: My Dead Heart

Rain lashed against the twisted metal as Hallie lay pinned in the wreckage of her car, her chest crushed and fading fast. The paramedic found her phone and desperately dialed her husband, Aidan. "Your wife has been in a severe car crash! We're losing her!" the paramedic shouted over the storm. A harsh, mocking laugh came through the speaker. "Tell her this is a pathetic way to stop the divorce," Aidan sneered. "I do not have time for her crazy games." The line went dead, and Hallie's heart flatlined. Separated from her body, Hallie's ghost was forced to witness the horrific aftermath of her own death. Her mother refused to claim her corpse because there was no insurance payout, telling the hospital to throw her in a ditch. Pulled back to her penthouse, she found Aidan gently holding her sister, Cecile. Cecile sobbed about Hallie's "fake crash" in Aidan's arms, but the moment he looked away, a wicked smirk of victory spread across her face. Cecile was the predator, and Aidan was her willing protector. He even ordered Hallie's brilliant, life's-work sketchbook to be thrown into an industrial shredder, giving all her corporate resources to fund Cecile's debut. Hovering in the cold air, Hallie watched her three years of devotion turn to ash. She was treated like garbage, a mere stepping stone for her sister's rise. But just as her soul turned to ice, Aidan's face suddenly grew paranoid. "Check her medical records," Aidan ordered his assistant coldly. "Find out who is helping her fake this injury." Hallie's invisible spirit shivered with a dark, vengeful anticipation. What would her arrogant husband do when his relentless digging finally uncovered her cold, dead body?
Chapters
share

Chapter 1

Rain lashed against the twisted metal of the Mercedes.

Hallie could not breathe.

The steering wheel pinned her chest to the driver's seat. Every shallow gasp sent a sharp, stabbing pain through her ribs.

A paramedic shoved his upper body through the shattered window. His heavy jacket smelled of wet asphalt and copper.

He pressed two gloved fingers hard into the side of her neck.

"Pulse is thready and irregular!" he yelled over the storm.

Blood ran down Hallie's forehead. It mixed with the cold rain and stung her eyes. Her vision blurred at the edges. She felt the heat leaving her fingertips.

Another paramedic crouched on the wet road. He dug through her ruined Birkin bag. He pulled out her cracked smartphone.

The screen flickered. The paramedic, wearing clean gloves from his kit, carefully held the device. He managed to activate the screen, his gaze falling on the emergency contact pinned at the top.

Aidan.

The phone began to ring. The sound was faint over the heavy rain. Hallie felt a weak flutter in her crushed chest. She just needed him to answer.

Three thousand miles away, inside the Waldorf Astoria in Manhattan, classical music played.

Aidan stood near a quiet balcony. He felt the heavy vibration of his custom phone in his suit pocket.

He pulled it out. He looked at the screen. The name Hallie flashed brightly.

His jaw tightened. A hard knot of annoyance formed in his stomach. He stepped out onto the cold balcony and pressed the answer button.

"What game are you playing now?" Aidan asked. His voice was completely flat.

The paramedic pressed the phone to his ear and shouted.

"Is this Mr. Aidan Monroe? Your wife has been in a severe car crash. She is fading fast!"

Silence stretched over the line for one full second.

Hallie's heart gave a painful, hopeful squeeze. He was going to come. He had to come.

Then, a low, harsh laugh came through the speaker. The sound pierced right through the rain and into Hallie's ears.

"Tell her this is a pathetic way to stop the divorce," Aidan said. "I do not have time for her crazy games."

The line went dead. The paramedic's jaw tightened for a second before he tossed the phone onto the passenger seat, his entire focus snapping back to the woman pinned in the wreckage. "Forget him! We're losing her!" he yelled to his partner.

That cold laugh was the last thing Hallie felt. A heavy, freezing weight dropped into her stomach. The tear at the corner of her eye mixed with the blood and rolled into her hair.

The heart monitor attached to her arm let out a loud, continuous piercing sound. The jagged green lines on the screen snapped into a single, flat line.

The paramedic climbed onto the stretcher. He placed his hands over Hallie's chest and pushed down hard.

The loud crack of her ribs breaking echoed in the rain.

But Hallie did not feel the pain.

A strange sensation of weightlessness took over. The heavy pressure on her chest vanished.

She felt herself rising. Her perspective shifted upward. She floated in the cold air, looking down at the twisted car.

She watched the paramedic sweating and pushing on her chest. She looked at her own face. It was pale and completely still.

One of the paramedics stopped. He looked at his watch. He shook his head and stepped back.

Hallie reached out her hand. She tried to grab the man's shoulder. Her fingers passed right through his thick jacket.

She stared at her transparent hands. She was dead. She was stuck in this cold air, entirely separated from her body.

A black body bag was unrolled on the wet road. The men lifted her heavy body and placed it inside. The sound of the zipper closing was deafening.

They loaded the bag into the back of the ambulance. The doors slammed shut. The red and blue lights flashed as the truck drove away into the dark.

Hallie floated alone above the empty cliff. A massive wave of panic hit her.

Then, a strong pull yanked at her chest. It was not a physical hand, but a violent magnetic force.

It wrapped around her invisible throat. It pulled her forward. She had no control. She was dragged through the storm, moving faster than the wind, pulled by the deep obsession buried in her mind.

You may also like

Another Mother Novel Cover
9.2
The body of my sister, Annabelle, was found brutally stuffed inside an ottoman in our living room. The house was locked from the inside, and the police didn't have a single lead. Before she died, Annabelle left a note: "Beware of the Other Mom."
Bound To The Ruthless Lycan King Novel Cover
7.7
I fled my werewolf pack five years ago to hide in a human city, all to escape a recurring nightmare. Every full moon, a terrifying, golden-eyed Lycan slaughters everything in his path, forces me to my knees with a crushing Alpha command, and claims I am his fated mate. The vivid dreams were destroying my inner wolf, forcing me to finally agree to return to my pack for the annual Pack Run to seek a cure. But right before my flight home, I accidentally bumped into Rick Miller, the most arrogant, tyrannical Alpha on our college campus. He looked down at the coffee spilled on his expensive leather jacket with pure disdain, publicly humiliating me in front of the entire airport. "Do you have any idea what this jacket costs? Never mind. It's not like you could afford to replace it." As he coldly insulted me, a terrifying realization suddenly froze my blood. He smelled exactly like the ancient pine and storm from my nightmares, and his brief touch sent a mate's electric spark straight to my soul. How could this cruel, spoiled campus bully possibly be the legendary, terrifying Lycan King who haunted my every sleeping moment? As he turned and boarded his private jet, I looked down at my trembling hands and realized the horrifying truth. My trip back to the pack wasn't a journey to heal my trauma. I was walking straight into the cage of the very monster I had spent five years trying to outrun.
His Orchestrated Love, My Shattered Life Novel Cover
9.1
After a brutal assault cost me my fiancé, my childhood friend swooped in to save me. He married me, cherished me, and I fell in love with the perfect life he built. I thought I had finally found my happy ending. Then, pregnant with our child, I overheard him confessing to my half-sister. He had orchestrated the entire assault. He married me just to stay close to her. In the hospital, she staged an attack, claiming I tried to kill her and her unborn baby. My husband shoved me against the wall, roaring at me as he rushed to her side. "I'll kill you for this!" As I lay bleeding on the cold floor, losing my own child, not a single person looked back. I was just a necessary casualty in his game. But I had recorded her gloating confession. I faked my death and fled to my billionaire mother. He would find out the truth, and I would be the ghost that haunted him to his grave.
His Unwanted Bride, Another Man's Queen Novel Cover
8.1
My fiancé, the ruthless Mafia Underboss, tore my dead mother's necklace from my throat and fastened it around another woman's neck. "Diana needs it," Arthur said, his eyes cold. "My blood remembers loving her. It calms her anxiety." He was referring to the bone marrow transplant that saved his life. Diana was connected to the donor, and Arthur believed his new blood made him belong to her. I became a ghost in my own home, forced to watch him crown a usurper. When Diana faked a fall at a gala, accusing me of pushing her, Arthur didn't hesitate. He decided to "discipline" me publicly to teach me respect. He raised the whip. "Arthur, please, I'm pregnant!" I screamed, shielding my stomach. "Don't lie to me," he spat, and the lash came down. I lost our baby on that cold marble floor in a pool of blood. He didn't believe me. He stepped over my body to take Diana to dinner. He didn't stop there. He let my grandmother die in the ER to tend to Diana's bruised nose. He even dug up my grandmother's grave because Diana wanted the view for a garden. I finally fled, vanishing into the night. It wasn't until months later, when he found the autopsy report of our unborn child and the toxicology results proving Diana had been drugging him, that the fog lifted. He tracked me down to a small town, where I was finally healing with a good man. The feared Underboss fell to his knees in the pouring rain, holding the whip he had used on me, shaking violently. "Beat me, Ella," he begged, tears mixing with the mud. "Hurt me. Make us even." I looked at the monster I used to love and dropped his ring into the dirt. "You can't bring back the dead, Arthur," I whispered. "And you are dead to me."
My Shapeshifter Mate:Falling for My Cursed Superior Novel Cover
8.1
His second name is Death. Anyone who tries to get too close to him loses their life. He was cursed with the blood of his dead brother and till he finds the killer of his brother, he's forever bound with the curse. He's avoided like a plague, but he even loves it that way. He's so addicted to solitude and being alone. He is a bloody supernatural being, an unusual wizard. The only child born under Three Red Stars on a gloomy night 25 years ago. The demons fret at the smell of his scent, and evils flee. He has no shadow even in the dark. He is soulless-Orion Alaric, that's his name. The son of Duran Alaric, who owns Mystic Institute, a school for supernatural beings, located deep in the fogs of Mount Delos. Mystic Institute takes in over five hundred disciples yearly, and of the five hundred, Orion was determined to find his brother's killer that year, so he joined the school as a superior. There he sat on his throne, and as expected, she came. Samara Hercules, a whitehead witch who's the exact opposite of everyone around him. Unexpectedly she is not the one he's hunting for, but her white hair reminds him of the killer each time he sets eyes on her and that builds a toxic hatred in him for Samara. He was even ready to get rid of her so he wouldn't have to see her face anymore. Let's stop here.... Now are you ready to jump into the book and see how things go? Will Samara ever escape him and his tortures Will romance ever bloom between these two? Will his curse ever get lifted? Will the real killer ever show up? And are you in for the steamy romance, fights, jealousy, betrayal, and series of dramas between the supernaturals? Demons and dark forces? Join this rollercoaster ride, don't miss out.
The Alpha's Regret: The White Wolf He Rejected Novel Cover
8.1
My sister, the pack's beloved future Luna, was dying of kidney failure. Axel, the Supreme Alpha and the man I had secretly loved my entire life, used his Alpha Command to force the pen into my trembling hand. "Sign the papers, Jana," he growled, his eyes glowing with a predatory red light. "Stop being selfish. Kyleigh needs a transplant, and you are the only match." I tried to beg. I tried to tell him that I couldn't survive the surgery. I tried to tell him that I had already secretly donated a kidney to our father five years ago—a sacrifice my sister had claimed credit for. But Axel threw a stack of falsified medical scans in my face. "Stop lying to save your own skin," he spat. "You are a useless, Wolfless Omega. This is your only chance to be of value to this pack." He didn't know that Kyleigh had been poisoning me with Wolfsbane for a decade to suppress my inner White Wolf. He didn't know that the anesthesia wouldn't work on my poisoned body. I felt every inch of the silver scalpel as they cut me open to harvest my only remaining kidney. I died on that table, listening to the man I loved call me dramatic. But death was not the end. My spirit floated above the chaos, watching as the surgeon's face turned pale with horror. "She only had one!" the doctor screamed, holding up the blackened organ. "Alpha, look at the old scars! We just killed her!" Only after my heart stopped did the scent-masking drugs fade. Axel fell to his knees in the blood-soaked room, finally smelling the scent of rain and pine he had been searching for his whole life. He realized he had just butchered his true mate to save a liar. "Jana?" he howled, clawing at his chest. But I was already gone.