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The Price of His Bitter Regret

Chapter 2 

Word Count: 915    |    Released on: 19/12/2025

LINE

cal blow, stealing the air from my lungs. But I didn't fa

ill trembling slightly. He watch

ow wrapped around Declan's. Her eyes, bright with satisfaction, rak

the money. It was everythi

he money or not?" I asked,

e reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash, tossing it onto the table with a

ow?" he

, crisp paper. "Just need the rest for the urn's final installment." My voice

ped my lips. This was my li

s blurred. All I saw was Declan' s stunned ex

quickly. "What kind of game

idn't know. I found a stra

e. "Just ensuring my final resting place is p

s trying to manipulate you! Don't fall for

. "Don't bother, Caroli

strain on my aching muscl

e crinkle of the bills a small comfor

club manager, Mr. Henderson, was watching fr

ed out, his voice s

d. I turned back

embarrass me, embarrass the Carpenter na

ed against my r

city," he added, his voice low and menacing. "Every do

Another lesson. Five years o

e words died in my throat. What was the

ow, deliberate move

way. No more public humiliations, at least not here. My body felt heavy, ea

ned against a damp brick wall, heaving until my throat burned and my stomach was empty. I

but surely. The doctor's word

at the phone. Another missed call from the urn shop. The manager

ath. For a sliver of peace, a quiet corner in

gain. Mr. Grier.

h annoyance. "Are you going to make this payment or not

he words catching in my dry throat.

ast week! Look, I'm not a charity. If you can

o! Please. It's... i

l give you until tomorrow morning. That's it. Otherwis

dead. My last

ager, Mr. Henderson. "Your employment has been terminated, effective immediately

nife. He wasn't just firing me; he was making sure I had

oesn't care if I die. The word

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The Price of His Bitter Regret
The Price of His Bitter Regret
“Five years ago, my brother Declan stripped me of our family name and cast me out. Now, I was a cocktail waitress with terminal cancer, desperately trying to save enough money for my own urn. To make the final payment, I got on my knees on the cold club floor to bark like a dog for a drunk man's cash. My brother saw it all. But instead of helping, his face twisted in disgust. He fired me on the spot, withheld my final paycheck, and swore I'd never work in this city again, stealing my last chance to die with a shred of dignity. He grabbed my arm, his eyes burning with a cold fire I once thought was reserved for his business rivals. "I don't care if you die," he spat. And in that moment, I knew he meant it. The last flicker of hope died. He had taken my name, my health, and my future. Now, he had even taken my death. So I wrote a letter, revealing the truth he refused to see for five years-about the stolen watch, the woman who framed me, and the cancer eating me alive. Then, I walked to the river. If I couldn't live with dignity, I would let my death be the final, undeniable truth.”
1 Chapter 12 Chapter 23 Chapter 34 Chapter 45 Chapter 56 Chapter 67 Chapter 78 Chapter 89 Chapter 910 Chapter 10