His Regret Arrived Three Days Late novel Chapter 11

“Dad, I’m heading out for a bit. I’ll be back later to help you get ready for bed,” Annika said, her voice soft.

At the same time, Conrad’s detached tone echoed from the living room. “I’m leaving. I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

Marcus’s reply came quickly from the dining room. “Go on, then.”

Conrad took his coat from the housekeeper, Lana, and leisurely followed Annika out of the Sargent estate. When he stepped outside, he saw her getting into his car and, without missing a beat, walked over, opened the door, and slid in beside her.

Instantly, Annika sensed a shift in the man next to her. She turned to say something, but a hot, wet kiss crashed down on her, stealing her breath and overwhelming her senses. His cool, crisp scent filled her senses, making her heart pound. Conrad was an expert kisser—seductive, practiced—and soon Annika’s head spun as her mind went blank.

Perhaps dissatisfied with her passive response, he broke the kiss just as she was about to run out of air. His lips hovered an inch from hers. “If you don’t want to break your father’s heart,” he whispered, “play along.”

A shiver ran down Annika's spine. She glanced sideways and finally noticed her father sitting in his wheelchair by the second-floor window, his gaze fixed on them.

So that was it. The kiss was just an act for his benefit.

Her heart felt like it was being torn in two, but she forced a smile and leaned in, her own icy lips brushing against his. “Thank you, Conrad,” she murmured.

A single, cold drop slid down her side, tracing the scar where her kidney had been removed. It felt like blood, or maybe a tear.

He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his long, elegant fingers cool against her skin. The chill in his deep-set eyes intensified. “We were together for two years. I owe you that much. Anything I can do, I will. But I’ll also make you pay for what Serena lost.”

His voice was a low growl, laced with a terrifying, restrained fury.

“Hank, drive.”

In the front seat, Hank, who had witnessed the entire painful exchange, felt a knot in his stomach. Conrad’s command jolted him back to reality.

“Right,” he said, pressing the accelerator. The black Cayenne sped away from the Sargent estate.

Whether it was a deliberate attempt to foster their relationship or simply a matter of convenience, Yazmin insisted they stay the night, claiming it was too late to drive back.

Annika scanned the guest list again and again before taking a pen and adding one more name at the bottom: Tyler Stetson.

Later, feeling thirsty, she went downstairs for a glass of water. As she passed through the cavernous, empty living room, a flash of white darted past the staircase.

“Who’s there?” she called out.

Silence. Only the sound of the night wind whistling through the room answered her.

Her skin prickled. She started back up the stairs, and as she looked up toward the art gallery corridor, she saw it—a figure in a flowing white dress. A woman with long hair billowing in the breeze slowly turned her head.

The glass slipped from Annika’s hand and shattered on the floor. An eerie feeling made the hair on her arms stand on end. She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again. The white figure hadn’t vanished; instead, it grew clearer. The delicate arch of the brows, the exquisitely beautiful features… The name Serena screamed in her mind, and the color drained from her face.