Shattered Symphony: His Regret Came Too Late

Chapter 1

The freezing water of the river was still choking my lungs.

I gasped, my hands flying to my throat, expecting to feel the icy current dragging me down into the abyss. Instead, my fingers brushed against warm, dry skin and the heavy silk of a designer gown. The suffocating darkness of my watery grave was gone, replaced by the blinding, opulent glow of a thousand crystal lights.

"Julian, the flashing cameras are giving me such a terrible headache," a high, delicate voice whined to my left. "Can we please go to the VIP lounge? I feel like I can't breathe out here."

I blinked against the sudden onslaught of light and noise. The smell of expensive champagne, roasted truffles, and vanilla perfume hit my senses like a physical blow. I was standing in the center of the St. Regis grand ballroom.

*Three years ago.*

My breath caught in my throat. I stared down at my hands—my perfect, unblemished hands. The hands of a violin prodigy, insured for millions. They weren't blue with frostbite. They weren't sinking into the murky depths of the Thames.

"Are you deaf, Clara?"

The harsh, commanding voice snapped my attention upward. Julian Thorne stood mere inches from me, his jaw clenched in that familiar, arrogant line. He looked exactly as he had on the night of the catastrophic charity gala: devastatingly handsome in his bespoke tuxedo, his dark eyes radiating a possessive intensity. But that intensity wasn't directed at me, his wife of two years. It was focused entirely on the woman clinging to his arm like a fragile vine.

Chloe Mercer.

"Chloe asked you a question," Julian demanded, his tone dripping with hypocritical impatience. "Stop hovering there like a statue and go get her a glass of water. Can't you see the crowd is overwhelming her?"

Chloe pressed her face against Julian's shoulder, her doe eyes peeking out at me with a manipulative, practiced innocence. "It's okay, Julian," she murmured, her voice laced with a parasitic sweetness. "Clara is the star tonight. I shouldn't have even come. I'm just ruining your evening."

"Don't say that," Julian said softly, his hand coming up to stroke Chloe's hair. "You belong here just as much as anyone."

I stared at them, the phantom chill of the river water still freezing my veins. I remembered this night. This was the night of the gala earthquake. This was the night the first crack in my marriage had violently shattered my reality. And miraculously, impossibly, I had woken up right before it happened.

"Clara!" Julian barked. "The water!"

Before I could open my mouth to respond, a low, unnatural rumble vibrated through the soles of my heels.

The champagne flutes on the nearest table began to rattle. A woman near the stage let out a confused laugh, thinking it was part of the evening's entertainment. But then the floor heaved.

It wasn't a gentle roll. It was a violent, jarring snap that threw half the ballroom to the floor.