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Too Late For Regret: My Dead Heart

Chapter 3 

Word Count: 552    |    Released on: Today at 18:16

of the wide balcony. The cold

oor. Her hand went straight through the thick gla

re off. A few warm

in the air. It was sweet and s

ng from the master bedroom. Her invis

She stepped right throug

ide made her

thrown on the floor. He sat o

aking woman tightly

ecile. H

ite burgundy silk pajamas. The fa

an's shirt. She sobbed loudly

Cecile's back. His touch was slow and

ce was low and soft. "I promise that cr

Her eyes were red and we

ered. "That is why she faked that car

Her nails dug into her palms, but

not know what love is. She only loves

cheek. "I am sick of her hysteria. I will h

gainst his palm. She look

r of Cecile's mouth twitched. A sma

ook of pur

l punch to the throat. Cecile was n

ward. She grabbed the collar of

She grabbed at Cecile's hair. Her f

ivered. She presse

cold in here,"

ely around her. He glared at t

y she left behind in this

pped to her sides. She stared at th

p, and him walking right past her. Now, Cecile

temples. He looke

n said. "We are not staying in

kly. She leaned up

he last warm feeling she h

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Too Late For Regret: My Dead Heart
Too Late For Regret: My Dead Heart
“Rain lashed against the twisted metal as Hallie lay pinned in the wreckage of her car, her chest crushed and fading fast. The paramedic found her phone and desperately dialed her husband, Aidan. "Your wife has been in a severe car crash! We're losing her!" the paramedic shouted over the storm. A harsh, mocking laugh came through the speaker. "Tell her this is a pathetic way to stop the divorce," Aidan sneered. "I do not have time for her crazy games." The line went dead, and Hallie's heart flatlined. Separated from her body, Hallie's ghost was forced to witness the horrific aftermath of her own death. Her mother refused to claim her corpse because there was no insurance payout, telling the hospital to throw her in a ditch. Pulled back to her penthouse, she found Aidan gently holding her sister, Cecile. Cecile sobbed about Hallie's "fake crash" in Aidan's arms, but the moment he looked away, a wicked smirk of victory spread across her face. Cecile was the predator, and Aidan was her willing protector. He even ordered Hallie's brilliant, life's-work sketchbook to be thrown into an industrial shredder, giving all her corporate resources to fund Cecile's debut. Hovering in the cold air, Hallie watched her three years of devotion turn to ash. She was treated like garbage, a mere stepping stone for her sister's rise. But just as her soul turned to ice, Aidan's face suddenly grew paranoid. "Check her medical records," Aidan ordered his assistant coldly. "Find out who is helping her fake this injury." Hallie's invisible spirit shivered with a dark, vengeful anticipation. What would her arrogant husband do when his relentless digging finally uncovered her cold, dead body?”