My Husband's Regret : Chasing Back!!!

The last thing Andrea Isabelle Van Houten wanted was to return to the place that had scarred her so deeply.

New York.

She had sworn she would never set foot in this city again.

But fate had a cruel sense of humor. Here she stood once more, staring up at the towering skyscrapers that seemed to mock her for breaking her own promises.

Her feet touched the soil of a past she had tried to bury, yet now, she had no choice but to walk upon it again.

***

A sleek black Maybach glided smoothly through the city's chaos, as if eager to end Andrea's torment. Beside her sat Maria Mendez, her personal assistant, reviewing the schedule.

"Your meeting with Mr. Michael Smith is in fifteen minutes, Miss Van Houten. He's already waiting in our hotel suite. We'll be discussing the contract for his and Miss Jessica's wedding ring designs."

The wedding between Michael and Jessica was set for the end of the year, and Andrea would be crafting their rings.

What a sickening irony. To her, Michael and Jessica were the very people who had destroyed her past.

The elevator shot upward, carrying Andrea closer to him.

Her heart pounded, it is not coming from nervousness, but from the icy rage she had nurtured for years. That fury had fueled every step of her success.

The doors slid open, revealing the opulent hotel suite she had rented. The spacious living area, adorned in elegant tones, offered an endless view of New York. But Andrea's gaze locked onto one figure.

A man sat on a black leather sofa, his silhouette framed against the floor-to-ceiling windows, the twilight casting a mysterious glow around him. His long fingers danced across his phone, his expression unreadable and cold, yet mesmerizing.

Like a Greek god sculpted to life, yet undeniably touched by darkness. His presence, magnetic and dangerous, filled the room.

His name is Michael Smith.

In an instant, Andrea's mind flashed back to that suffocating, rain-soaked night five years ago-the night fate had forcibly entwined her with the man before her.

A night she had tried to forget, but never truly could.

The memory sent a shiver down her spine. She quickly pushed it aside, focusing on her true purpose. She needed this man, for her daughter's survival.

With forced composure, Andrea stepped forward. Maria announced their arrival, and Michael finally looked up.

His eyes is deep, unreadable, like frozen oceans met hers. A strange tremor ran through her. He was extraordinary, as if stepped out of the most captivating dark fairy tale.

Handsome? That word was too simple for his sharp jawline, straight nose, and those lips that looked... tempting. His aura was overpowering, like a predator freshly awakened, ready to strike.

"Good evening, Mr. Smith. It seems you have been waiting here for a while. My apologies, it is because the traffic was a nightmare." Her voice was calm, masking the storm inside. She extended her hand, a necessary formality.

Michael stood up. Towering, perfectly proportioned, draped in an impeccably tailored suit. Wherever he went, he commanded attention effortlessly.

Andrea swallowed hard, suddenly realizing where her daughter, Sonya, had inherited her striking features. She has Michael's lips, his piercing gaze, even his aloof demeanor.

She had carried Sonya for nine months, felt every kick, every heartbeat, yet the girl was a flawless replica of her father.

Michael accepted her hand. The contact was brief.

"Good evening, Miss Van Houten. I understand-this city's traffic is relentless. But I haven't been waiting long. So it is okey." His voice was deep, resonant, like distant thunder.

Andrea gave a slight nod, emphasizing her mother's surname Van Houten. A name renowned in the business world, especially in jewelry. No wonder the arrogant Michael Smith had sought her services.

A faint, hollow smile touched her lips. They were both master chess players, and the game had just begun. She gestured for him to sit.

The initial discussion revolved around business gemstones, diamond cuts, and design concepts for a wedding Andrea found bitterly ironic.

Her mind raced, analyzing every detail, every flicker in Michael's expression. She had to execute her plan flawlessly. The scheme she had spent months crafting would unfold tonight.

"I like this design." Michael wasn't a jewelry enthusiast, but even he couldn't deny Van Houten Jewelry's reputation wasn't built on beauty alone, but on extraordinary skill from the owner.

"For further details, Mr. Smith, I believe we'll need a more... private setting," Andrea said, glancing at Maria, who held the contract on a tablet.

"Once the contract is signed, I have some innovative ideas, and best discussed one-on-one, to maintain exclusivity."

Michael's brow arched slightly, intrigue flashing in his icy gaze. "By all means, Miss Van Houten."

The assistants, understanding the cue, finalized the signed contract and discreetly exited.

Now, only Andrea and Michael remained in the vast suite, the New York skyline darkening around them. Adrenaline surged through Andrea's veins.

This was it.

The undetectable aphrodisiac, laced into her custom perfume, had already begun dispersing into the air. She needed Michael to inhale deeply enough to render him powerless to resist.

Her mission, a burden and her only hope, had to succeed tonight.

She had to get pregnant with Michael Smith's child. The woman must take the seed contained in the man's sperm. A sibling who would save Sonya.

And for that, Michael had to fall into her trap, drugged, helpless, consumed by desire.

Andrea smiled, wider this time, yet still chilling.

"Mr. Smith, I'm certain you'll love this concept. Let's discuss it... more casually."

She strode to the minibar, pouring two glasses of expensive whiskey-one for him, one for herself. The liquid shimmered innocently under the light, hiding its dark secret.

Whiskey will make the stimulant work more effectively.

"A toast, to thank you for choosing my designs for your wedding," Andrea said, raising her glass, her gaze challenging.

Michael took the offered drink, his sharp eyes piercing through her façade, assessing the woman before him.

But Andrea's icy demeanor gave nothing away.

And so, Michael suspected nothing.