Too Late For Regret: My Billionaire Savior

Charlotte looked down at the silver watch on her left wrist.

The hands aligned perfectly at nine o'clock. The morning sun glaring off the Manhattan pavement was blinding, forcing her to squint. A cold knot of anxiety tightened in her stomach.

She pressed her thumbnail hard into the side of her index finger, a nervous habit she couldn't break.

She pulled out her phone and dialed Bradly's number. The line rang. It was a long, hollow sound that made her bite her lower lip so hard she tasted copper.

Finally, the call connected.

"Hey, babe," Bradly's voice came through, distorted by static. "Traffic on the bridge is a nightmare. I'm going to be late."

Charlotte's breathing stopped. Her chest felt tight.

Before she could respond, a very faint, soft female voice murmured in the background of the call. The sound was barely a syllable, but it pierced Charlotte's eardrum like a physical needle.

"Who is that?" Charlotte asked. Her voice was flat, devoid of the panic clawing at her throat.

"What? No one," Bradly stammered. The sudden shift in his tone was obvious. "Just... someone walking past my car. Look, I'll be there soon."

The lie was clumsy. It triggered every alarm bell in Charlotte's head.

She pulled the phone away from her ear, keeping the call active, and opened the location-sharing app they had used for the past three years.

The screen loaded. The blinking red dot representing Bradly's phone was not on the bridge. It was stationary, parked outside a coffee shop exactly two blocks away from City Hall.

Charlotte hung up the phone without another word.

She grabbed the heavy fabric of her white dress, lifting it above her ankles. Her heels clicked sharply against the concrete as she marched toward the location on the map. Her stomach churned with every step.

She turned the corner of the street.

A familiar black Range Rover came into view. It was parked next to the curb. The passenger side window was rolled halfway down.

The sight of the car shattered the last fragile piece of hope in her chest.

She slowed her pace. She stepped behind a green metal newsstand on the corner, using the magazine racks to hide her body. Her eyes locked onto the vehicle.

Sitting in the passenger seat was Kira. Bradly's first love.

Kira was leaning over the center console, her manicured fingers playfully twisting Bradly's silk tie.

Bradly did not push her away. Instead, he leaned closer. His voice drifted through the open window, carrying over the hum of the city traffic.

"Don't worry about it," Bradly said softly. "Charlotte is just a safe backup plan. You know you're the one I want."

The words hit Charlotte's chest like a sledgehammer.

The air left her lungs. The world tilted, a wave of dizziness washing over her. She dug her nails so deeply into her palms that the skin nearly broke.

The sharp, stinging pain grounded her. It cleared the fog in her head. The