Goodbye, Mr. Regret

"Mr. Lawson."

Timothy's voice was cool and detached. "Check the balance on the card I gave to my wife. How much is left?"

"One moment, sir."

A brief silence. Then Secretary Allen spoke up. "Twelve million."

Timothy's brow furrowed. Twelve million wasn't much by his standards. If Jessica wanted to return to a normal life, that sum would be more than enough for an ordinary person to live comfortably for the rest of her days.

But she was Timothy's woman. How could she settle for an ordinary life?

"Freeze the card."

His words were cold as ice.

Secretary Allen hesitated, caught off guard, but knew better than to ask questions. "Understood. I'll do it right away."

"And look into what happened at the Wheeler Group."

With that, Timothy ended the call.

He strode across the room to the balcony, his long legs carrying him to the glass doors. He lit a cigarette, exhaling slowly into the night.

Outside, darkness pressed in, thick as velvet.

the smoke curl upward, a peculiar emptiness settling over him. This house, this life-so many years of stability, almost to the point

otherwise placid existence? Jessica hadn't been feeling well that day. As soon as she returned to the hotel, she collapsed onto

again, she was gasping

forehead and back

that fire, the one from

been knotted with fear-afraid Timothy would

she could still feel

from this day forward, had nothing

shower, only to remember she hadn't brought any luggage with her when she

no choice but to go

exactly had happened with the Wheelers. Once she was

then

reader. Jessica entered

Transaction failed.

screen flashed:

years. She'd been using it these last few days

isn't

and typed on

once more. Still, the reader

smile tugged at

belonged

on it enough for a shopping spree. Not long after, he'd transferred another two hundred thousand, urging her to go out and enjoy herself. Again and again— once,

first, she'd felt happy. She thought he was worried she'd be bored at home, so