Too Late For Regret: The Surgeon Heiress

Areli sat perfectly still on the center cushion of the dark green velvet sofa.

Her spine was straight, her shoulders pulled back. She kept her eyes locked on the antique wooden grandfather clock standing against the far wall of the penthouse.

The heavy brass pendulum swung back and forth behind the glass case. Tick. Tock. Each mechanical sound echoed loudly in the massive, empty living room.

It was their third wedding anniversary. The hands on the clock showed it was exactly twenty minutes past midnight.

She reached out and lifted the crystal wine glass from the polished glass coffee table. The red wine inside had been poured three hours ago. It was completely cold now.

She brought the thin rim of the glass to her lips and took a small, slow sip. The liquid tasted bitter and flat on her tongue. She swallowed, feeling a cold trail slide down her throat and settle heavily in her stomach.

Then, a soft chime broke the silence.

The private elevator at the end of the hallway had arrived.

Areli set the crystal glass back down on the table. She pulled her hand away immediately.

She stood up from the sofa. Her bare feet moved across the cold hardwood floor as she walked straight toward the grand entryway. Her heart picked up its pace, thumping a steady rhythm against her ribs.

The heavy steel doors of the private elevator slid open with a smooth mechanical hum.

Courtland Roman stepped out of the elevator car first. He was already reaching up, pulling at the knot of his dark silk tie, loosening it around his neck with a tired, aggressive pull.

A second later, Holli Delgado stepped out from the elevator, following right behind him.

Areli stopped walking. Her feet froze to the floorboards.

Her eyes immediately dropped to Holli. Holli was wearing Courtland's oversized black suit jacket. The broad shoulders of the jacket swallowed Holli's small frame. The sleeves hung down past her fingertips.

The polite, welcoming smile that Areli had prepared vanished from her face. The muscles in her cheeks went completely slack.

Courtland walked past the entryway table. He tossed his heavy metal car keys onto the solid marble surface. The keys hit the stone with a sharp, loud clatter that made Areli flinch.

"Why did you bring an outsider here on our anniversary?" Areli asked. Her voice was flat, devoid of any warmth.

Courtland stopped pulling his tie. He frowned, his dark eyebrows pulling together. He stared at Areli, clearly annoyed by her tone.

"Holli's apartment door lock is broken," Courtland said. His voice was cold and dismissive. "She needs to stay here for the night."

Holli took a small step forward, then quickly shrank back, hiding her body slightly behind Courtland's broad shoulder.

"I am so sorry, Areli," Holli said. Her voice shook, thick with fake tears. "I really didn't mean to intrude on your special night."

Areli stared at the younger woman. "The building you live in has twenty-four-hour armed security in the lobby," Areli said, her words sharp and precise. "You are in absolutely no danger."

Holli gasped loudly. She suddenly brought her hand up, clutching the fabric of the jacket tight against her chest. She sucked in a harsh, ragged breath.

Holli's knees buckled. She collapsed straight down onto the hardwood floor, her legs folding under her.

Courtland's face went pale. He immediately dropped to his knees, squatting down beside Holli to check her breathing.

Areli's body reacted before her mind did. Years of intense surgical training kicked in. She took a quick step forward, reaching out to check Holli's pupil dilation to confirm if the panic attack was real.

Holli saw the hand approaching. Her eyes widened in exaggerated terror, and she let out a piercing, hysterical scream. "Don't touch me! Please, keep her away!" The panicked shriek echoed off the high ceilings, instantly igniting Courtland's protective instincts. Hearing her cry out in fear, Courtland's mind bypassed all logic. He completely misunderstood Areli's clinical movement as a physical attack. He threw his arm out, his muscles bunching under his suit jacket. He shoved Areli's shoulder with all his body weight, driven entirely by a blind urge to protect the crying woman. The massive force caught Areli completely off guard.

She stumbled backward, her feet slipping on the smooth floor.

Her lower back crashed hard into the sharp edge of the kitchen's solid marble island.

A blinding, white-hot pain exploded at the base of her spine. The impact knocked the breath completely out of her lungs. She gasped, her mouth opening, but no air came in. The pain shot down her legs, making her fingers go numb.

Courtland stood up. He glared down at Areli. "You are vicious," he yelled, his voice echoing in the kitchen. "You have absolutely zero sympathy for anyone but yourself!"

Areli pressed her hands flat against the cold marble behind her to keep from falling. She looked up, fighting through the physical agony in her back, and met Courtland's furious, cold eyes.

Then, her gaze shifted slightly.

Behind Courtland's back, Holli was looking right at her. Holli's lips curled up into a slow, hidden smirk.

Areli saw the smile. The sharp pain in her back suddenly faded into a freezing, absolute numbness. She saw the entire three years of her marriage for what it truly was. A ridiculous, pathetic joke.

Areli pushed herself up. She straightened her spine, ignoring the throbbing ache. Her eyes turned completely cold. She made the final decision to end this right now.

Areli stepped away from the hard edge of the marble island.

She walked straight toward Holli, who was still sitting on the floor behind Courtland. Her bare feet slapped against the hardwood.

Holli saw her coming. She shrank her shoulders back and let out a small, fake whimper of fear.

Courtland immediately stepped sideways. He planted his feet, using his large body to block Areli's path to Holli.

Areli did not slow down. She simply sidestepped, moving quickly around Courtland's right arm before he could grab her.

She raised her right hand high in the air and swung it down hard. Her palm connected with Holli's cheek. The loud, sharp crack of the slap echoed off the high ceiling.

Holli's head snapped to the side. She let out a high-pitched scream, clutching her red cheek.

Courtland's eyes widened in absolute shock. He stared at Areli, his mouth slightly open, unable to process what she had just done.

He reached out and grabbed Areli's wrist. His fingers dug hard into her skin, his grip tight and punishing.

Areli twisted her arm violently. She yanked her wrist out of his grip, leaving red marks on her own skin.

She looked Courtland dead in the eye. "I want a divorce," she said. Her voice did not shake.

Courtland let out a harsh, mocking laugh. He shook his head. "You are just throwing a tantrum for attention," he said, his tone dripping with disgust.

Areli turned her back on him. She walked down the long hallway and entered the master bedroom.

She walked straight to her vanity table. She opened the top drawer of the velvet jewelry box and pulled out the heavy, five-carat diamond wedding ring.

She walked back out to the living room. Courtland was still standing there, glaring at her. She threw the ring directly at his feet.

The heavy platinum band hit the hardwood floor. It bounced twice, making a sharp, scraping sound against the wood before rolling to a stop near his leather shoes.

Areli turned around and walked straight to the private elevator. She pressed the button for the lobby.

"If you walk out that door, you will have absolutely nothing!" Courtland roared at her back. His face was red with anger.

The steel elevator doors slid shut, cutting off the sound of his shouting completely.

Areli watched the digital numbers count down as the elevator descended. She took a deep breath, feeling the tight knot in her chest finally start to loosen.

The doors opened to the lobby. She walked past the front desk and pushed through the heavy glass doors, stepping out onto the Manhattan street.

It was pouring rain. Huge, cold drops of water were falling from the black sky.

The building's doorman rushed forward. He popped open a large black umbrella and tried to hold it over her head.

Areli shook her head. She pushed the umbrella handle away and stepped directly into the storm.

The freezing rain hit her skin instantly. Within seconds, her expensive silk evening gown was soaked through, clinging heavily to her legs.

A massive, unmarked black Maybach pulled up to the curb. It made almost no sound as the tires rolled over the wet pavement.

The rear passenger door swung open immediately. A man in a dark suit stood in the rain, holding the door wide.

Julian Stephenson sat inside the spacious, leather-lined cabin. He was wearing a custom-tailored suit. He reached out and handed her a thick, dry cashmere towel.

Areli climbed into the back seat. The heavy door slammed shut behind her, cutting off the sound of the rain. She took the towel and began drying her wet hair.

Julian picked up a crystal decanter. He poured a generous amount of amber whiskey into a glass and handed it to her. "The family has been waiting," he said, his voice calm and steady. "It is time to come home."

Areli took the glass. She tilted her head back and swallowed the burning whiskey in one continuous gulp. She lowered the glass, her eyes sharp and clear. The ruthless, calculating heir of the Stephenson family had fully returned.

The next morning, Areli walked stiffly but resolutely through the heavy glass doors of the top-tier Manhattan law firm.

She was wearing a sharply tailored, black Tom Ford suit. The fabric moved perfectly with her measured strides. Her sleek, flat loafers moved with a measured, careful rhythm against the polished marble floor.

She walked straight into the main conference room. She pulled out the large leather chair at the head of the long mahogany table and sat down, her back remaining as straight as a blade.

Courtland and his executive assistant, Marcus, were already sitting on the opposite side of the table.

Courtland looked up. His eyes widened slightly as he took in her expensive suit and the rigid, almost unnatural perfection of her posture. A second later, his expression hardened into a cold, arrogant sneer.

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. He was waiting for her to speak, waiting for her to beg.

Areli did not say a word. Ignoring the dull, numbing throb at the base of her spine, she opened her slim leather briefcase and pulled out a single, thick document.

She placed her hand flat on the document and pushed it hard. The paper slid across the smooth, polished wood of the table, heading straight for Courtland.

Marcus reached out quickly. He stopped the sliding document with his hand and pushed it directly in front of Courtland.

Courtland flipped open the heavy cover page. He scanned the text. It was a formal declaration waiving all rights to their prenuptial agreement.

His eyes dropped to the section labeled 'Alimony Settlement'. The number printed on the line was exactly zero dollars.

Courtland's jaw tightened. He glared across the table at her. He was absolutely certain this was a pathetic negotiation tactic.

"Stop playing these stupid psychological games," Courtland sneered. "It won't work on me."

Areli reached into her jacket pocket. She pulled out a heavy Montblanc fountain pen. She uncapped it, leaned forward carefully, and signed her name on the bottom line with slow, heavy, and aggressive strokes.

She placed the pen on the center of the table. She tapped her index finger on the wood, signaling for him to sign.

Courtland stared at her eyes. There was no hesitation, no sorrow, no lingering attachment. His chest suddenly felt tight, a strange squeezing sensation hitting his ribs.

He shifted in his chair. A wave of hot, uncomfortable irritation washed over him. Things were not going the way he had planned.

Marcus leaned in close to Courtland's shoulder. "Sir," Marcus whispered, his voice low. "Legally, this is the best possible outcome for the company."

Courtland ground his teeth together. He snatched the pen off the table. He pressed the nib down hard and signed his name, nearly tearing the paper.

Areli's lawyer immediately stepped forward. He pulled the document away from Courtland to officially notarize the signatures.

Areli stood up with controlled, steady movements. She reached down and buttoned the center button of her suit jacket, preparing to leave.

Courtland suddenly pushed his chair back and stood up. He reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a piece of paper.

He slammed a pre-written check down onto the wooden table. The number written on it was five million dollars.

"Take the money," Courtland said. His voice was loud, dripping with condescending pity. "Don't starve to death on the streets."

Areli stopped walking. She slowly turned her head and looked down at the rectangular piece of paper resting on the wood.

She reached out. She used only her index and middle fingers to pinch the edge of the check and lift it off the table.

Courtland's lips curved up into a triumphant, arrogant smile. He was sure she had finally broken down and accepted his charity.

Areli held the check up between them. She grabbed the other side with her left hand and ripped the thick paper straight down the middle.

She let the torn pieces of paper fall from her fingers. They fluttered down and landed directly in front of Courtland on the table.

The smile on Courtland's face vanished instantly. His skin flushed dark red with sudden, explosive anger.

Areli turned around. She walked out of the conference room with the same measured, rigid grace without looking back, leaving Courtland standing there, staring at the torn paper in complete disbelief.