Goodbye, Mr. Regret

Timothy didn't so much as flinch.

Herbert's fist, thrown with all the force he could muster, connected hard with the side of Timothy's face.

Blood trickled from the corner of Timothy's mouth.

Unhurried, Timothy raised his thumb and wiped the blood away.

He didn't fight back. Herbert, seeing that, suddenly found the urge to keep swinging just draining out of him.

Timothy pulled a wet wipe from the table and slowly dabbed at the blood on his fingertips, oddly struck by a fleeting appreciation for the old man's scheming. At least now he knew one thing: Jessica genuinely cared about The Wheeler Group.

He stood up, taking his time. Herbert was tall-six-foot-one, maybe a touch more. At that height, anyone could be intimidating.

But Timothy, at six-foot-two and carrying the unmistakable air of someone born with every advantage, still managed to overshadow Herbert.

low, steady. "Fine by me. But I don't take hits for nothing. Every punch costs

her anger boiling over at Timothy's relentless talk of

Herbert aside, and slapped Timothy across the face. Then, with quick, practiced hand signs, she spat out: "And what about me? If I hit you, how

of his mouth. Every muscle in his body seemed on the verge of

Look at you-making such a scene I haven't even had a chance to eat. Dinner's cold, my appetite's gone. Go cool off, and make it up to me with

Vince off and seized Jessica's hand, spitting out

dragged Jessica toward the

had no choice but to go with

couldn't let her own decisions drag Herbert

other

written all over his face-fear that if she went back, he'd never see her free again, that she'd be trapped in that miserable marriage, losing herself all over

stepped forward and clamped down on Herbert's wrist. "Touch her again, and I swear you'll never hold a scalpel