Goodbye, Mr. Regret

The man's voice was low and gentle, and only then did Jessica's trembling begin to ease. The nap she'd taken earlier hadn't done anything to shake off her weakness or exhaustion.

Half-asleep, she slumped into Timothy's arms and drifted off, but even in sleep, a deep furrow remained between her brows.

Timothy, worried she might wake easily, hardly dared to move.

Memories of the night before crept in, and with them came a wave of guilt unlike anything he'd ever felt.

Meanwhile, Vince left The Gilded Whisper Estates and headed straight for the hospital.

Sure enough, Larkin was lying in his hospital bed, but he looked perfectly fine.

"Grandpa, didn't they say you needed emergency care?" Vince asked, bewildered.

Larkin, looking completely serious, replied, "You and Timothy didn't get into a fight, did you?"

Vince frowned. "Grandpa, what's going on?"

Larkin finally explained, "Timothy's assistant called and said you and he got into it over something—asked me to get you to come back so you two wouldn't come to blows. Honestly, look at you. Aren't you both too old to be fighting like kids?" "Grandpa!" Vince was exasperated. "And aren't you too old to fall for such tricks? Do you really think I'm the type to pick a fight with Timothy over nothing?"

As for the trouble at the company, Vince knew Timothy must've had a hand in it, but with his grandfather's health on the line, he hadn't dared to ignore the call. "So you're telling me I got played? What actually happened?"

Larkin just stared at him, confused.

"Look, time's tight. I'll explain everything to you later," Vince said, before rushing out of the hospital. He still needed to stop by the office.

in motion, Vince

get his team together and

the hospital parking lot when

Zimmerman, the

under control? How did it resolve so suddenly?" Vince asked, feeling completely out of the

guys

brakes, then pounded his

but these were high-stakes problems-he'd been forced to take the

And Jessica?

him. He floored the gas pedal

was shrouded

rang the doorbell for ages before

"Mr. Zimmerman, good evening."

"Where's Timothy?"

frowned, looking uneasy. "Sir told us aff to turn in for the night. only

I honestly don't know

her to the main house and started ringing the inner

me get the

led

The place was deserted.

room, knocking and checking each one. But by the end, it

floor, the divorce papers Timothy had