His Regret Arrived Three Days Late novel Chapter 138

“I’m fine,” Annika said.

But when she looked down at the large, dried patch of red on her clothes, the color was jarring. She couldn’t see her own face, but she imagined it must look terrifying, like a war-torn monster. She finally agreed to Tyler’s suggestion.

Tyler drove her and Lana back to the secluded villa before heading out again to continue the search. Annika stripped off her soiled clothes and stepped into the shower. When the paint was thrown, she had instinctively turned her head, so most of it had landed on her hair and body. After washing her hair and showering, she balled up the dirty clothes and tossed them in a hamper.

In the mirror, her wet hair was still a fiery red, like an ocean reflecting a sunset. It was strange, but against her fair skin, it made her look even more alluring and dangerously beautiful. The thought of Monroe brought another sharp, clenching pain to her chest. She silently vowed that once she found him, the people responsible would pay dearly.

After finishing his last meetings, Conrad returned to the Pudding Hotel. He showered and was lying in bed, smoking and browsing Twitter, when a photo suddenly caught his eye. He swiped past it, then immediately scrolled back, his gaze fixed on the image. The fiery red hair, the suppressed anger in her eyes—though her face was distorted with rage, she was somehow more captivating than a siren. The more Conrad looked, the more certain he was that it was Annika.

The caption below the photo read: [Woman doused in red paint at Angel Hospital. Speculation is it’s either an enemy seeking revenge or a wife getting even.]

If this woman was Annika, then she had rushed out of work to go to the hospital. Who was sick? It had to be someone incredibly important to her. The most important person to Annika had been Marcus, but Marcus was dead.

Conrad reached over and tapped his cigarette against the ashtray before dialing Nolan. “Any results?”

The moment Nolan finished speaking, Conrad’s voice came through the phone, laced with fury. “Explain.”

“At the same time Annika was doused with red paint, Monroe was taken from the hospital.” Nolan reported the information as he had received it.

Conrad’s body went rigid for a second before he shot up from the bed. He strode to the window, his silhouette radiating a cold, dangerous energy. “Use every resource. Find the child before they do.” By ‘they,’ Nolan knew Conrad primarily meant Annika.

Nolan left to mobilize his teams. Conrad crushed the lit cigarette into the palm of his hand, ignoring the searing pain. He would never forget bursting into that hospital room, demanding to know where his child was, only for Annika to tell him with cold detachment that the baby had been lost in a difficult birth.