Goodbye, Mr. Regret

The brooch needed no introduction-each one retailed for millions, and he'd seen online that a single man had swept up the entire collection.

As for the pearl necklace, it wasn't just any piece of jewelry. It was an antique, a string of luminous, perfectly round pearls from a bygone dynasty-rare, coveted, and breathtaking.

"I'll take them both. Sixty million. Deal?"

Jessica hesitated. She knew each brooch was worth several million, and Timothy had bought out all twenty-three pieces when they launched. Anyone with an eye for value could tell that as long as Timothy kept them off the market, their worth would only climb.

But luxury resale was a different world. Buyers didn't care about future appreciation; the offer was mostly for the necklace.

Anything from Timothy was never cheap.

Jessica hadn't expected the necklace to be so valuable. If it fetched tens of millions even as a secondhand piece, its true value must be far greater.

She knew selling at this price meant taking a loss.

Still, she resolutely typed a single word onto her phone: "Sell."

Before their marriage, Timothy had handed her a prenuptial agreement. He'd offered a perfectly reasonable explanation-he was CEO of a major corporation, and his assets were deeply entwined with his stake in the company. Life was unpredictable; if their marriage ever soured, dividing the marital assets could trigger a series of crises.

situation was complicated, and the less

course, he'd promised her: now that they were married, he'd never

the time, Jessica had been so overwhelmed by the fact that Timothy was

marry her at all, she

him-not

wishful thinking. That last promise

really meant was that he never wanted her to have any claim

had he thrown her out of the

these two pieces of jewelry? Selling them, even at a

offered

negotiated: half wired to her

she left the boutique, Jessica

Henry had his piano lesson and insisted Sheila come along to keep him

bring over an array of the latest designer

even called Mabel for her opinion, asking