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Too Late For Regret: The Genius Ex-Wife Novel Cover

Too Late For Regret: The Genius Ex-Wife

I placed the positive pregnancy test on the black marble island, expecting at least a flicker of emotion from my billionaire husband. Instead, his assistant dropped a thick divorce agreement right on top of it. "Laelia is back in New York," Alistair said, his eyes completely dead. "This two-year game is over. Get rid of it." He ordered his private security to book an abortion clinic for that very night. To protect my unborn child, I fled through a freezing maintenance shaft and threw myself off a snowy cliff into a rocky ravine. When I woke up battered and bruised in the hospital, I faked a miscarriage, hoping he would finally let me go. Instead of an ounce of pity, he choked me, called me a vile creature, and had his guards throw me out into a deadly Manhattan blizzard in nothing but a thin hospital gown. As the hypothermia set in, I remembered my father jumping off a Wall Street high-rise, driven to bankruptcy by the very man who just left me and his own blood to freeze to death. For two years, I had played the submissive stand-in wife, mapping out every vulnerability in his empire, but I never expected him to be this ruthless. Just as I was about to lose consciousness in the snow, a black Maybach skidded to a halt in front of me. Inside sat Silas Rhodes, Alistair's biggest corporate rival. I dragged my battered body up and offered him the ultimate weapon to burn my ex-husband's empire to the ground.
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Chapter 3

The two guards flanked Seraphina. They gripped her upper arms, their fingers digging deep into her muscles. They shoved her forward, marching her down the concrete corridor toward the service elevator.

She gasped for air. A sharp, pulling pain radiated from her lower abdomen. Panic seized her throat. The physical stress was tearing at her body.

The heavy metal doors of the service elevator slid open. Alistair stood inside. His face was a mask of pale, contained fury. His eyes tracked her every movement, burning with a violent intensity.

The guards shoved her inside. She stumbled. Alistair's hand shot out. His fingers clamped around her jaw, his thumb pressing brutally into her cheekbone. The pressure was agonizing.

"If you ever try to run from me again," he hissed, his breath hot against her freezing skin, "I will break both of your legs."

Seraphina stared up at him. She let her eyes roll back into her head. She allowed her knees to buckle, her entire body going entirely limp.

She collapsed onto the cold steel floor of the elevator. She curled into a tight ball, clutching her chest. She forced her breathing to become rapid, shallow, and erratic. She let out a choked, desperate wheeze.

Alistair stepped back. He stared down at her, his jaw tight.

"I can't breathe," she gasped, her voice raw. "Water. A bag. Please. I'm suffocating."

The elevator jolted to a stop at the ground-floor private garage. The doors opened.

Alistair looked at the guard on his left. "Go to the SUV. Get the emergency oxygen tank."

The guard nodded and sprinted across the massive, echoing garage toward a parked fleet of black vehicles. The driver remained standing by the elevator doors.

Alistair turned his head to watch the running guard.

Seraphina's eyes snapped open. She pushed off the floor with explosive force.

She grabbed the heavy metal trash can beside the elevator doors and shoved it with all her might. The can tipped over, crashing into Alistair's legs and sending a wave of garbage across the driver's boots.

The loud crash echoed like a gunshot. Seraphina didn't look back. She spun around and sprinted toward the red exit sign marking the fire stairs.

She slammed her shoulder into the heavy fire door. It burst open. She threw herself into the freezing night, plunging into the deep snow covering the Manhattan sidewalks. The blizzard was blinding, turning the towering skyscrapers into dark, looming shadows.

The snow was up to her knees. She dragged her legs forward, fighting the heavy resistance. She aimed for the dense, chaotic expanse of Riverside Park just two blocks away, hoping the trees and uneven terrain would hide her.

Behind her, alarms shattered the silence. The deep, guttural shouts of Alistair's security team echoed through the storm. His men were already spilling out of the parking garage.

She glanced over her shoulder. Beams from high-powered flashlights sliced through the falling snow, moving fast down the avenue.

She bit down on her lip until she tasted copper. She pushed her burning thighs harder, dodging abandoned cars. The freezing air sliced down her throat like shattered glass.

She broke through the tree line of the park. The ground suddenly vanished. She skidded to a halt at the edge of a steep, snow-covered rocky embankment near the frozen river. Below, a jagged concrete drainage path lay in total darkness.

The shouts grew deafening. Two guards burst through the bushes, less than thirty feet away.

She looked down into the black void of the embankment. Her heart hammered against her ribs.

She didn't stop. She closed her eyes, wrapped her arms tightly around her stomach, and threw herself off the edge.

Gravity ripped her downward. She hit the steep incline. Her body tumbled violently through the deep snow and hidden, jagged rocks. Sharp branches tore through her windbreaker, slicing into her cheeks and arms.

She kept her arms locked around her womb, taking every impact on her back and shoulders.

Her head slammed against a buried rock. A sickening thud vibrated through her skull.

White-hot pain exploded behind her eyes. The world went instantly black. Her body rolled a few more feet before coming to a dead stop at the bottom of the embankment, lying twisted in the snow.

Minutes later, flashlight beams hit her motionless body. Guards slid down the slope on ropes.

A guard pressed two fingers against her neck. He grabbed his radio. "Target is unconscious. Severe head trauma. We need immediate medical evac."

At the top of the embankment, Alistair stood in the driving snow. He stared down at the stretcher being prepared. His fists were clenched so tight his leather gloves creaked.

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