Too Late For Regret: The Genius Ex-Wife

Seraphina pressed her bare palms flat against the floor-to-ceiling glass. The freezing temperature of the Manhattan blizzard seeped through the thick pane, biting into her skin. She kept her hands there, trying to warm the ice with her own body heat.

She looked down at her flat stomach. A strange, heavy warmth bloomed inside her chest, spreading down to her fingertips. It was a fierce, sudden need to protect.

She turned away from the storm and walked toward the massive black marble kitchen island. Her fingers reached into the pocket of her silk robe. She pulled out the white plastic stick. Two solid red lines stared back at her. She traced the lines with her thumbnail, her pulse thumping against her throat.

The heavy oak front door clicked open. The sound echoed through the silent penthouse. Seraphina's stomach muscles tightened.

She shoved the pregnancy test deep into her pocket and walked quickly toward the foyer.

Alistair stepped inside. A gust of freezing air followed him, carrying the scent of snow and expensive cologne. He shrugged off his custom-tailored wool overcoat, the shoulders dusted with white flakes, and tossed it blindly toward the waiting butler.

Seraphina forced the corners of her mouth up. She reached out, offering to take the leather briefcase from his hand.

Alistair shifted his weight. He stepped to the side, completely avoiding her touch. He walked past her, his heavy footsteps heading straight for the liquor cabinet in the living room.

Seraphina's hand hung in the empty air. The back of her neck burned. She lowered her arm, swallowed the dry lump in her throat, and followed him.

Alistair grabbed a crystal decanter. He poured a generous amount of whiskey over a single large ice cube. The glass clinked sharply. The sound grated against Seraphina's eardrums.

She stopped on the opposite side of the marble island. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs until they ached. She slipped her hand into her pocket.

She pulled out the plastic stick and placed it on the black marble. She pushed it across the smooth surface until it stopped directly in his line of sight.

"I'm pregnant," she said.

She stared at his face, watching for the slightest twitch of his jaw, the smallest shift in his eyes.

Alistair's hand froze halfway to his mouth. His gaze dropped to the two red lines.

He slowly lowered the glass. The ice clinked again. There was no light in his eyes. A thick, terrifying layer of frost settled over his features.

He lifted his head and looked at her. His eyes were completely dead. He looked at her as if she were a stranger who had just tracked mud onto his expensive rug.

Seraphina's smile cracked. The air in the room vanished. Her lungs struggled to pull in oxygen.

Alistair turned his head slightly. He looked at his executive assistant, Julian, who stood silently in the shadows near the hallway. Alistair gave a single, sharp nod.

Julian stepped forward. He unzipped his briefcase and pulled out a thick manila envelope.

Julian kept his eyes glued to the floor. He walked to the island and placed the heavy envelope directly on top of the pregnancy test, hiding it from view.

Seraphina's fingers trembled. She reached out and pulled the thick stack of papers from the envelope. The bold black letters at the top of the first page blurred, then sharpened. Divorce Agreement.

Her head snapped up. Her eyes burned. "Why are you doing this?"

Alistair lifted his glass and swallowed the whiskey in one smooth motion. He placed the empty glass down.

"Laelia is back in New York," he said. His voice was flat, devoid of any human emotion.

The name hit Seraphina physically. Her knees gave out for a fraction of a second. She stumbled backward, her hip bumping hard against the barstool.

Alistair walked around the island. He stopped inches from her, forcing her to look up at him. "This two-year game is over, Seraphina. You knew what this was."

Seraphina gripped the edges of the divorce papers. Her knuckles turned stark white. She forced herself to breathe through her nose, fighting the violent shaking in her chest.

She raised a trembling finger and pointed at the envelope hiding the test. "There is a child in there. Your blood."

Alistair let out a short, hollow laugh. "Get rid of it."

A physical blow to her chest would have hurt less. Seraphina's vision tunneled. The cold, brutal reality of the man standing in front of her finally shattered every illusion she had left.