Too Late For Regret, Mister Moss

The cold metal of the diamond ring scraped against the polished mahogany vanity.

Ada Hurst pushed the heavy piece of jewelry across the wood. It made a harsh, grating sound. Ten years of her life, reduced to a rock she no longer wanted to look at.

She opened the bottom drawer and dropped the ring into the dark corner. She did not look back at it.

Her chest felt hollow. Not painful, just completely empty. She turned to the massive walk-in closet. Row after row of haute couture dresses hung there. August Moss had his assistant buy them. They were beautiful, expensive, and felt like a prison uniform.

Ada pulled a small, battered canvas purse from the top shelf. She unzipped it and tossed in a worn notebook and a few essential documents. These are the only things she brought with her when she married the Moss family.

Ada didn't want to be a hindrance to their marriage, so she gave up all the secrets and lived as a single girl in the family of the Mosses.

Stern never looked at himself after the marriage, and his mother and sister only looked at him as a thief who was greedy for the huge wealth of the Moss family.

But she kept her illusions alive, thinking that one day Sterling would see her, and she wanted to find the right opportunity to confess her true identity, but before that, Sterling had betrayed their marriage and their vows.

The heavy bedroom door swung open and hit the wall with a loud bang.

Kia Ferguson Moss stood in the doorway. She wore a silk robe and a sneer that twisted her face.

"Are you playing the runaway wife game again?" Kia laughed. The sound was high and grating. "Do you really think my brother is going to feel sorry for you?"

Ada stopped packing. She slowly stood up straight. The air in her lungs felt cool and steady. She looked at Kia.

"I am leaving," Ada said. Her voice was flat. "And you can give the Mrs. Moss title to that woman you all love so much."

Kia's face flushed a dark, angry red. She stepped into the room, raising her hand to grab Ada's shoulder.

"You ungrateful bitch!" Kia yelled.

Ada shifted her weight. She dodged the hand easily. She raised her own hand and slapped Kia's wrist away. The smack of skin against skin echoed in the large room.

Kia stumbled back. She grabbed her red wrist and screamed. "You hit me! In my own house!"

Heavy, rapid footsteps sounded in the hallway. Doretta Irwin Moss appeared in the doorway. Her heels clicked sharply against the hardwood floor.

"What is this behavior?" Doretta demanded. Her chest heaved. "You have no class, Ada. None."

Ada ignored her. She zipped up the small purse. The zipper made a loud, tearing sound in the quiet room. She grabbed the strap and walked toward the door.

Doretta stepped in front of her, blocking the exit.

"If you walk out that door," Doretta said, her voice dropping to a vicious whisper, "I will cut off your trust fund allowance immediately. You will have nothing."

Ada raised one eyebrow. A cold smile touched the corners of her mouth. She reached into her purse and pulled out a stack of stapled papers.

She slapped the divorce agreement flat against Doretta's chest. The older woman gasped and stepped back. The papers fluttered to the floor.

Doretta looked down. The bold letters at the top of the page were clear. It was a zero-alimony divorce agreement. Ada was taking nothing.

Ada used the moment of shock. She bumped her shoulder against Doretta's and walked out the door. She carried the small purse down the grand spiral staircase.

"You will starve on the streets of New York!" Kia screamed from the top of the stairs.

Ada did not turn around. She pushed open the heavy oak front doors. The crisp morning air hit her face, clearing the stale smell of the mansion from her nose.

The massive iron gates of the estate swung open. A bright red Koenigsegg roared up the driveway. The tires screeched as it stopped right in front of Ada.

The tinted window rolled down. Sloane Astor-Vance pulled down her sunglasses.

"Get in, baby!" the Hollywood actress yelled over the engine.

Ada tossed her small purse into the front trunk. She opened the passenger door and slid into the low leather seat. She pulled the door shut.

Sloane looked at Ada's pale face. "Are you sure about this? Is it really over?"

Ada took a deep breath. She looked in the side mirror at the massive Moss estate. She nodded once.

Sloane grinned. She slapped the steering wheel and slammed her foot on the gas. The car roared like a beast and shot down the driveway, leaving the wealthy Long Island neighborhood behind.

Inside the loud cabin, Ada reached into her purse again. She pulled out a second copy of the divorce agreement and a pen. She flipped to the back page and signed her name in bold, sharp strokes.

Sloane glanced over. "There is the ruthless Ada I know."

Ada clicked the pen shut. She stared straight ahead at the Manhattan skyline growing larger in the distance.

"Take me straight to the Moss-Sterling headquarters," Ada said.

Sloane whipped the steering wheel, merging onto the highway. A storm was coming for August Moss.

The red Koenigsegg jerked to a stop right in front of the glass doors of the Moss-Sterling building on Fifth Avenue. It sat directly over the yellow no-parking lines.

A security guard started walking toward the car, his face red with anger. Then Sloane stepped out. The guard stopped in his tracks, his mouth falling open as he recognized the famous actress.

Ada pushed her door open. She stepped onto the pavement. Her high heels clicked against the marble steps. She kept her spine completely straight. Her stomach felt tight, but her hands were steady.

They walked into the massive lobby. The ceiling was ten meters high. The receptionist behind the desk looked up. Her eyes narrowed when she saw Ada.

"Mrs. Moss," the receptionist said, her voice dripping with fake politeness. "Mr. Moss is in a very important meeting. You cannot go up without an appointment."

Ada stared at the woman. She did not say a word. She reached into her bag and pulled out a heavy, black metal keycard. It was the master access pass August had thrown at her on their wedding day, a careless gesture of his wealth. In his typical arrogant oversight, he had never bothered to revoke its ultimate access.

The receptionist's eyes widened.

Ada walked to the VIP elevator bank. She slapped the black card against the scanner. A green light flashed, and the metal doors slid open instantly.

Ada and Sloane stepped inside. The receptionist picked up her phone, her voice frantic, but the heavy doors closed, cutting off the sound.

The elevator shot upward. The sudden movement made Ada's stomach drop. She swallowed hard, pushing down the last tiny ache in her chest.

The doors opened on the eightieth floor. The executive hallway was quiet. A few assistants typed rapidly at their desks.

Nathaniel Finch, the chief executive secretary, jumped up from his chair when he saw Ada. He rushed forward, trying to put his body between her and the heavy mahogany doors of the CEO's office.

"Mrs. Moss, please," Nathaniel said, his hands raised. "Mr. Moss is in a terrible mood today. I highly suggest you come back later."

Ada lifted her chin. "It will not be Mrs. Moss for much longer, Nathaniel."

Before the secretary could process the words, Sloane stepped forward. She bumped her shoulder hard against Nathaniel, pushing him out of the way.

Ada grabbed the brass door handle. She pushed it down hard and shoved the door open.

The office was massive. August Moss stood with his back to the door, looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows. He held a phone to his ear.

"I will see you tonight," August said into the phone. His voice was low and soft.

Ada heard the faint, high-pitched voice of Gisele Singleton coming from the speaker. A sharp pain hit Ada right behind her ribs, but she forced her face to remain blank.

August heard the door. He turned around. His dark eyes narrowed in deep annoyance. He hated being interrupted.

"I will call you back," August said, and ended the call. He glared at Ada. "Who let you in here?"

Ada did not lower her head. She did not apologize. She walked straight to the center of his massive wooden desk.

She pulled the signed divorce agreement from her bag. She flicked her wrist and slapped the thick stack of papers onto the polished wood.

The sound was loud in the quiet room. The papers slid across the desk and stopped right in front of him.

August looked down at the bold black letters on the cover page. He let out a harsh laugh.

"Is this because I did not come home last night?" he asked. He reached up and tugged at his expensive silk tie. "Do not bring your childish house games to my office, Ada."

Ada placed both hands on the edge of the desk. She leaned forward. Her eyes locked onto his.

"The game is over," Ada said. Her voice was completely steady.

August frowned. The coldness in her eyes was new. It made a muscle in his jaw tick. He looked at her face, searching for the tears she usually cried. There were none.

Ada stood up straight. She pointed a finger at the signature line. "Sign it. Do not waste my time. I am sure you have a new girlfriend waiting for you."

The word 'girlfriend' made August's eyes flash with anger. He stood up. He was a tall man, and his shadow fell over the desk.

"Are you out of your mind?" he demanded.

Ada took a half-step back, creating space between them. "If I do not have your signature today, my lawyers will file it in court tomorrow."

She did not wait for him to speak. She turned around and walked out the door, her heels clicking sharply against the floor.

The heavy office door clicked shut.

August stared at the empty space where Ada had just stood. The muscle in his jaw twitched hard.

He grabbed the divorce agreement, ready to rip it in half. He wanted to punish her for this ridiculous stunt.

His fingers gripped the thick paper. As he pulled, his eyes caught the property division clause on the second page. His hands stopped moving.

He read the words twice. Ada was giving up everything. No alimony. No shares in the Moss-Sterling group. No claim to the trust fund.

August let out a short, cold laugh. He tossed the papers back onto the desk.

Nathaniel rushed into the office, looking terrified.

"Ignore this," August told his secretary, pointing at the papers. "It is a trick. She will be crying at the front gate in three days when she realizes she has no money."

Down on the street, Ada sat in the passenger seat of the Koenigsegg. The car merged into the heavy Manhattan traffic.

Her shoulders slumped. The tight knot in her stomach finally loosened.

Sloane handed her a bottle of water. "Where are we going? Do you want to hide out at my place in Beverly Hills?"

Ada opened the bottle and took a sip. The cold water felt good on her dry throat.

"Take me to Tribeca," Ada said. She gave Sloane a specific address.

Sloane slammed on the brakes, throwing them forward against the seatbelts. "Are you crazy? That is the billionaire row. You cannot even get into the lobby there."

Ada smiled. It was a small, tired smile. "Just take me to the private underground entrance."

Twenty minutes later, the red car pulled into a hidden, heavily guarded garage. Ada hugged Sloane goodbye and pulled her old canvas bag out of the trunk.

She walked to a private elevator hidden behind a concrete pillar. She stood in front of a small black panel. A green laser scanned her eyes. The heavy metal doors slid open silently.

The elevator shot up to the top floor. Ada stepped out into a six-thousand-square-foot penthouse. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a complete, unobstructed view of the Manhattan skyline.

"Welcome home, Ma'am," a smooth, mechanical voice said from the ceiling. The AI assistant, Coda, dimmed the lights to a soft glow.

It's time to go back to my old life!

Ada dropped her bag on the floor. She kicked off her high heels. Her bare feet sank into the thick, expensive Persian rug.

She walked to the massive windows and looked down at the tiny cars moving on the streets below. A sudden, crushing weight pressed down on her chest.

She walked over to a hidden bar behind a wood panel. She poured a glass of pure malt whiskey over a single large ice cube. The glass clinked loudly in her shaking hand.

Ada drank the whiskey in one swallow. It burned her throat, but it did not stop the sharp pain tearing through her heart.

Ten years. She had loved August Moss for ten years, ever since he pulled her out of the snow when she was a teenager with nothing. She had paid for that debt with three years of a cold, miserable marriage.

Ada slid down the glass window until she sat on the floor. She pulled her knees to her chest. Her throat tightened. The first tear fell hot against her skin.

She covered her face with her hands. Her shoulders shook violently as she sobbed. In this secure fortress, she finally let the pain out.

"Playing soothing sounds," Coda announced softly. White noise filled the large room.

Ada cried until her lungs ached and her eyes burned. She lay on the rug, exhausted.

Her phone buzzed on the floor next to her. The screen lit up. It was a text from August.

Stop playing games. Come back when you are done throwing a tantrum. I do not have time for this.

Ada stared at the words. A fresh, violent sting of betrayal pierced her heart, making her breath hitch. But as she read his dismissive tone again, that sharp pain slowly began to numb. She realized how pathetic she must look, crying over a man who viewed her genuine pain as nothing more than an annoyance. For this man, her tears were just a joke. Enough was enough. The lingering heat of sorrow in her chest vanished, replaced by freezing ice.

She picked up the phone. She tapped his name and hit 'Block'. She deleted his contact.

Ada stood up. She walked into the massive marble bathroom and turned on the shower. The freezing cold water hit her skin, washing away the tears and the weakness.

She stepped into her walk-in closet. It was filled with the latest designer clothes and limited-edition bags.

She reached out and pulled a deep-V neck, bright red dress from the rack. Her eyes were hard and sharp in the mirror. Tomorrow, she would end this for good.