Too Late To Regret Free Preview

Kyle Jackson cheated.

Candice stood outside the CEO’s office.

A cold chill seeped through her as if she were wrapped in a sheet of ice. Her black high heels seemed to melt into the dark-veined marble floor.

After a moment, she raised her hand and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” came a deep male voice from inside.

Candice tightened her grip slightly on the documents in her hand and opened the door with the other.

As soon as she stepped inside, a soft smile appeared on her lips. She walked straight to the man’s side.

“Busy? I’ve got a few urgent documents that need your signature.”

Though she asked if he was busy, she had already placed the documents in front of him, even thoughtfully flipping to where he needed to sign.

Kyle had just returned this morning from a business trip to Switzerland.

He had come straight to the office to handle work. His desk was already piled with files, and his usually sharp, aristocratic face showed signs of fatigue.

Without even glancing at the documents handed to him, he signed every page.

“Thanks for your hard work.”

Candice gathered the signed documents, then casually asked, “Will you be home for dinner tonight?”

“I’ve got plans. Don’t wait for me,” he replied without even looking up.

“Alright, then I’ll head out.”

Candice turned and walked away with the documents.

But the moment she turned around, the smile on her face turned into one of icy mockery.

As she passed the lounge attached to the office, she heard a faint sound—like a kitten or puppy hopping off a bed. She glanced toward the sofa.

There were scattered snack wrappers on the coffee table, a half-finished milk tea, and on the floor, a toppled pale pink high heel…

In an instant, she understood. Her heart turned to ash.

Candice returned to her own office.

It felt as if the short walk back had drained all her energy. When she finally sat down, she let out a long, weary breath.

From the pile of documents, she pulled out one.

The divorce agreement.

Flipping to the last page, she traced his signature with a mocking expression, recalling the past…

His once-passionate vow to marry her.

Her mother-in-law’s sneering reminder not to get too full of herself—"A man can never love just one woman."

And how she once believed, “We’re different.”

Ha. Different? What a joke.

He was cheating with a young girl and thought he’d hidden it well, shamelessly enjoying the thrill of the affair.

This recent business trip? He took that girl along.

And now he’d even brought her back to the company.

Candice pulled her hand back and snapped a photo of the signed page, sending it to her mother-in-law with a short message: He signed.

A week ago, she had negotiated a deal with her mother-in-law.

The woman demanded Candice initiate the divorce and keep their secret marriage hidden.

In return, she agreed to a ten-billion-yuan settlement.

In one month, she’d make sure Kyle was completely out of her life.

Knock knock—

Someone knocked on the door.

Candice quickly put away the agreement. “Come in.”

The door opened, and in walked Terry, Kyle’s assistant.

“Miss Hale, the CEO asked me to bring this to you,” he said, placing an emerald velvet box on her desk.

She opened it carelessly. Inside was an exquisite, likely very expensive diamond jewelry set.

And the first image that flashed through her mind?

A girl with short hair and dreamy eyes in a bathrobe, carelessly dangling a diamond necklace, soft lights behind her, a messy bed, kiss marks stark against pale skin…

Disgust churned in her stomach.

“Thank you, Assistant He.”

She lifted her gaze. Her eyes were like blades.

Terry felt a chill run down his spine.

Nervous, he blurted, “The CEO picked it out himself—it’s a one-of-a-kind set.”

Too bad his heart wasn’t one-of-a-kind.

She didn’t want it anymore.

Candice smiled faintly.

“Oh, is that so? How touching—he found time to buy me a gift despite his busy schedule.”

Something about her tone felt… off.

Terry broke into a cold sweat. Does she know… about Miss Jones?

Without another word, he quickly left the office.

Candice looked at the jewelry with a look of disdain, as if it were something filthy.

She took out her phone, snapped a photo, and sent it to a luxury resale dealer:

Sell this for me. Donate the money to a children’s foundation for the mentally disabled.

The resale dealer: "…"

＊＊＊

5:00 PM. Parking garage.

Candice had just reached her car and opened the door when her gaze unintentionally swept across to the opposite side—where another car was already running.

Through the window, she saw Kyle in the backseat.

And next to him, the short-haired girl was sitting close, radiating youthful energy and cuteness.

“President—!”

Terry shouted in panic and slammed on the brakes.

Through the glass and across the space between them, Candice and Kyle locked eyes.

His eyes were dark and deep.

Hers were lifeless and hollow.

The atmosphere in the parking garage was suffocating.

The girl beside him looked at Candice, not only making no effort to keep a distance from Kyle, but growing even bolder—she wrapped an arm around his neck and whispered something into his ear.

Candice felt a stabbing pain in her eyes.

She looked away, got in her car, and drove off without sparing them another glance.

Not long after she arrived home, she heard the sound of a car outside.

She was standing in front of the glass case in her walk-in closet, removing her necklace, when a wall of firm muscle suddenly pressed up against her back. The powerful presence of a man enveloped her completely.

He braced both hands on the cabinet, leaning in from behind to look at her face.

"Are you mad?" he asked.

Candice didn’t look at him. She calmly placed the necklace in its place and replied flatly,

“Mad enough to kill someone. You should probably be careful.”

Kyle was silent for a moment, then said,

“The Jones family wants to collaborate with us on the Polaris project. I’ve been meeting with Mike, and the girl you saw—she’s his younger sister.”

“So what? He won’t work with you unless you keep his sister company?”

“…Candice, I’m trying to explain. Don’t get sarcastic with me.”

“I don’t think there’s anything to explain.”

Candice finally turned her head, her eyes cold and clear, like they could see straight through his soul.

“Kyle, if you’re tired of this marriage and want a new woman running the house, I can step aside.”

Kyle’s face darkened instantly. “What did you say?”

“I said we can get a divorce.”

She pushed him away.

But just as she tried to leave, he yanked her back forcefully. Grabbing her face, he warned,

“You’d better not even think about something like that.”

Candice said nothing.

But not only had she thought about it—she had already done it.

She…

didn’t want him anymore.

Kyle stayed home until late that night before another phone call summoned him away. Candice clearly heard the caller—a soft, girlish voice, as if the girl were crying.

The next morning, her lawyer and longtime friend sent her a screenshot: it was a social media post from Kyle’s little girlfriend.

A pair of hands—one large, one small—framed into a heart shape against the dawn sky. The caption read:

"Feeling each other’s heartbeat in the warmth of the sunrise."

Candice recognized his hand at a glance.

She sat there, gripping her cup for who knew how long.

When she finally set it down, it clinked against the table with a crisp sound—like something inside her had just broken loose and fallen away.

In the days that followed, Kyle still didn’t come home.

They only saw each other at company meetings—he sat at the head of the table, she with the other executives off to the side.

There was no eye contact.

Candice didn’t go looking for him either.

In her spare time, she was busy apartment hunting, and clearing out all the gifts he’d given her over the years—anniversary presents, birthday gifts, Valentine’s Day surprises, wedding gifts… She even sold their wedding rings.

She didn’t want the man.

What use was all this emotional junk?

That evening, Vangard’s boss lady, Anna, invited her out to a private club.

It was nearly 11 p.m.—Candice didn’t feel like going, but knowing she’d need a strong network after leaving Aureate Group and starting her own business, she went.

As soon as she walked in, she spotted Anna.

“Anna, I could’ve come up myself. You didn’t have to come down for me.”

Anna linked arms with her affectionately as they got in the elevator.

“I didn’t want you getting lost. You haven’t been here before, right?”

That was true—this place was new to her.

They went upstairs and into a large private room. An antique screen divided the space.

Candice immediately noticed there were people behind the screen, but Anna didn’t take her over. Instead, she seated her in the quieter section with just one other woman—someone vaguely familiar. She realized it was the girlfriend of one of Kyle’s friends.

The woman seemed to recognize her too, looking slightly awkward but still offering a smile.

Candice took off her coat and sat down. Anna left the room.

She took a sip of the drink handed to her. On the other side of the screen, the sounds of chatter and laughter gradually filtered through.

Then—

They started talking about her.

“Kyle doesn’t bring Candice to gatherings anymore.”

“Well, duh. Miss Jones is young and adorable—he takes her everywhere like she’s his little treasure.”

“Took him long enough to change his taste after all these years.”

“Candice might be pretty, but after eight years in bed, who wouldn’t be sick of her?”

“She’s so dumb too. Gave him eight years of her life and all she got was used. Hey, if Kyle doesn’t want her anymore, I’ll take her. I’ve been craving that waist for years.”

…

Candice’s eyes turned icy cold.

She recognized two of those voices—friends of Kyle’s, the same ones who used to call her “sis” with honeyed smiles.

The woman beside her was so embarrassed she didn’t dare meet Candice’s gaze. When she saw Candice stand up, she thought she was going to flee in humiliation.

But instead—

Candice cleared her throat, picked up her drink, and walked casually toward the other side. She leaned against the screen, her tone light and relaxed as she joined their conversation.

“Guys, that’s not quite fair, is it? When Kyle and I got together, he was still a sweet little virgin. Didn’t I get eight years of him for free too?”

The room went dead silent.

Everyone on the couches looked at her in shock.

At that exact moment, two tall men walked into the room.

Everyone looked at Candice—then at the men behind her.

All hope vanished from their faces.

Kyle stood behind Candice, a chill radiating from his face.

Candice seemed to sense the shift in the room’s attention and glanced back over her shoulder.

So, he was here after all.

Then she turned back again, eyes settling on the short-haired girl lounging on the sofa. When Candice walked in earlier, the girl had been smugly twirling her hair, legs crossed, looking so pleased with herself.

But now, that smirk had vanished, her face dark as thunder, glaring at Candice like she wanted to tear her apart.

Clearly, the two had been here socializing with friends. Judging from the comments she'd overheard, it wasn’t their first time. So they were already going public, showing up together like they had nothing to hide.

Kyle walked over.

Instantly, the room seemed to spring back to life, as if released from a spell.

“Sis, we’re so sorry! We were just talking nonsense. Total trash talk!”

“Yeah, sis, there’s nothing going on between Kyle and Miss Jones, really.”

“Please, don’t take it seriously!”

…

Kyle grabbed Candice’s wrist and tried to drag her out.

Candice turned and splashed her drink right in his face.

Silence. The entire room froze, every scalp tingling with dread. How did she dare...

And then, smiling sweetly, she said in a soft, pleasant voice, “Go on, have fun with your little sweetheart. I won’t ruin the mood.”

With that, she looked down and started prying his hand off.

Kyle’s face darkened, and with a grunt, he simply hoisted her up over his shoulder and stormed out.

Everyone in the room: “……”

Out in the hallway, Candice wriggled furiously on Kyle’s back.

Just as they reached the elevator, the doors opened.

As Kyle turned around, Candice caught sight of a pair of sleek black leather shoes, tailored black slacks hugging long, straight legs, and a pale, lean hand hanging at his side—every finger elegant and sculpted like carved jade.

The atmosphere turned heavy and awkward.

As they stepped out of the elevator, Candice couldn’t help but glance up—only to meet a pair of sharp, deep-set peach blossom eyes watching her with unreadable coolness.

Candice: “…”

She quickly covered her face and ducked her head.

Outside the club.

Kyle tossed Candice into the back seat of the car and climbed in after her.

Candice, dizzy and nauseated from being upside down and then flung into the car, felt like she might actually have a concussion.

Kyle pulled a wet wipe from the glove compartment to clean his face.

Candice’s sharp eyes caught something tucked behind the tissue box—looked suspiciously like a condom. Her ears were still ringing with his angry voice: “What were you doing there? Spying on me?”

She opened the car door to get out.

Too filthy in here.

“…Candice!” Kyle snapped and yanked her back. “Where do you think you're going? You’re really not done with this tantrum?”

Candice’s breath came a little faster. She pressed her fingers to her temples. “I want to go home.”

Kyle waved Terry over to drive.

The ride back was silent. Candice sat as far from him as she could, her face pale, looking like she might throw up any second.

Once home, she got out of the car and went straight to the kitchen, downing an entire glass of ice water in one go before she finally felt somewhat normal again.

When she came out, Kyle was in the living room. Candice sat down across from him.

The silence between them was suffocating—until Kyle finally spoke first.

“I was there for business. Barging into the club like that and making a scene—do you think you were doing me a favor? You looked like a complete fool. Do you even realize how ridiculous, how ugly you were, like a damn shrew?”

“Anything else?” Candice asked calmly.

“If you still want a future with me, then drop the pointless paranoia. I don’t have time to babysit your moods.”

“Okay. Anything else?”

“…Candice,” Kyle frowned, “do you realize how annoying you’re being right now?”

Candice stood, the corners of her lips lifting into a smile.

You won’t be annoyed for much longer.

She headed upstairs.

Kyle, irritated by that smile, sat in the living room for a while before finally going up. When he entered the bedroom, she was already asleep.

He took a shower and lay down next to her.

In the darkness, Candice turned her back to him and scooted further away—keeping every inch of her body out of contact with his.

Kyle pulled her back into his arms, forcibly dragging her from the edge of the bed. His grip was hard, tinged with frustration.

His tall, strong frame easily trapped her. Once he held tight, she couldn’t move at all.

She lay there stiffly the entire night.

The next morning, Candice only made breakfast for herself.

Kyle came downstairs, saw her sitting alone eating toast, and turned toward the door—but then changed course and approached the dining table. He leaned down and whispered in a gentle tone, as if trying to coax her, “Let’s go sailing this weekend, just the two of us.”

Candice sipped her milk and answered with a vague nasal hum.

Unsurprisingly, the day before the weekend arrived, he canceled again—said he had to fly to Hong Kong.

Candice felt nothing.

Maybe he hadn’t noticed, but it had been ages since they’d had a proper meal together. Ages since they’d spent quality time. He kept warning her not to even think about divorce, but in truth, she was already invisible to him. If she disappeared one day, he wouldn’t even notice.

On the weekend, Candice pulled her books off the shelf and packed them into a suitcase—moving them to her new place.

While shelving her books, she received a call from her mother-in-law, who rarely contacted her.

Candice answered politely. “Hello, Ms. Jenkins.”

Caroline Jenkins responded haughtily, “Come by the house. Let’s formalize the agreement we discussed.”

“Is that really necessary?”

“If I say it is, then it is.”

“Fine, I’ll come this afternoon.”

“No. Come at noon.”

“…Okay.”

Candice figured she had no plans anyway, so she agreed.

On the other end, Caroline Jenkins stood upstairs, looking down with satisfaction at Mia Jones walking arm-in-arm with Kyle in the garden.

She’d make sure Candice saw what a perfect match really looked like—who was truly meant for her son.

Candice arrived at the Jackson family estate around 11:40 AM.

The butler was quite surprised to see her.

He had known another guest was expected, but he hadn’t realized it was the young madam. Considering the fact that Young Master Kyle and Miss Jones were currently in the living room, he instantly broke out in a cold sweat.

The only people who knew that Kyle and Candice were married, aside from both families’ parents, were close staff members like Terry and the Jackson family butler.

“This way, please,” the butler said, bracing himself to carry out the madam’s orders as he led her in.

Before they even reached the living room, a crisp, bell-like voice rang out from inside, coquettishly saying, “I won again. Kyle, were you letting me win?”

Candice halted in her tracks.

Her mind went momentarily blank, but she quickly pieced it all together.

“Heh.”

A cold chuckle escaped her lips as she resumed walking.

Since she had planned to move some books today, she hadn’t put on any makeup. She wore a simple outfit: a loose white shirt and jeans. Her long, waterfall-like hair was loosely tied back with a ribbon.

Even so, her skin was flawless and fair, her eyes bright and her lips red. A few loose strands of hair framed her face, lending a softer, more alluring innocence to her natural beauty.

Kyle looked up from the sofa and was visibly shocked when he saw Candice. “Why are you—”

“Your mother called me here,” she said calmly, her gaze laced with quiet sarcasm. “Huh? Weren’t you supposed to be in Hong Kong? When did you learn to teleport?”

“…”

A flash of guilt crossed Kyle’s eyes.

Mia Jones got up from the sofa and approached Candice, extending a hand in a taunting manner. “Hi, I’m Mia Jones.”

Candice didn’t even glance at her, treating her like air.

At that moment, Caroline Jenkins entered from outside.

She gave Candice a fleeting glance before warmly taking Mia Jones’s hand. “Mia, did you have fun today? Make yourself at home, alright?”

Then, she turned to introduce Candice. “This is Miss Hale, a manager from our company. I have something I need to discuss with her.”

Everyone knew Candice was Kyle’s wife. Yet Caroline deliberately introduced her as a company employee, making it obvious she didn’t welcome Candice. It also sent a clear message to Mia Jones: Candice was a nobody, and nothing stood in the way of a union between the Jackson and Jones families.

Mia Jones lifted her chin proudly. “So you’re just a company employee.”

Candice didn’t look at Mia or Caroline—she only looked at Kyle, silently watching his expression.

She wanted to see how he would react.

But his face remained cold and expressionless. He didn’t even attempt to clarify her identity.

Did he not realize what was happening? No. He knew. He just didn’t care if she was being humiliated.

“Mrs. Jenkins, didn’t you want to speak with me? Why not do it right here?” Candice turned to her mother-in-law.

“Another time. Since you’re here, stay for lunch.”

“No thanks. I have things to do,” Candice said, turning to leave.

Caroline Jenkins barked after her, “When an elder asks you to stay for a meal, what kind of attitude is that? Didn’t your parents teach you any manners?”

Candice turned back slowly, her gaze clear and cool. “Fine. I’ll stay for lunch. Just don’t regret it.”

She was the first to head over and sit down—choosing a single-seat armchair.

Mia walked right over to sit beside Kyle, clinging to his arm. “Kyle, let’s keep playing chess.”

Kyle pulled his arm away and looked toward Candice.

“Miss Hale, do you know how to play?” Mia asked, glancing at Candice.

Candice looked at the top-tier jade chess set on the coffee table. But rather than playing Go, they were clearly playing the far simpler Five-in-a-Row. And Kyle had actually lost earlier…

It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to coax someone. He just didn’t know how to coax her anymore.

She looked up at Kyle, lips curved into a faint, bitter smile. “Yes, I know how. Would you like to play, Miss Jones?”

Kyle’s eyes darkened with irritation, a warning glint shining in them.

Mia confidently reset the board. “Miss Hale, would you like white or green?”

Candice picked up the green pieces. “Green. Suits me.”

Kyle: “…”

Mia and Caroline had almost started laughing—who insults themselves like that? But a moment later, they realized Candice wasn’t insulting herself—she was insulting them.

Mia gritted her teeth and hurried to make the first move.

They went back and forth, placing dozens of pieces. Caroline watched Mia make precise, calculated moves while Candice scattered hers with seemingly no logic. Caroline, already biased, shot Kyle a look as if to say: See what a real socialite looks like?

Kyle didn’t react at all.

As more pieces fell into place, Mia’s mood shifted between excitement and irritation—she kept thinking she had a winning move, only for Candice to block her. Still, neither of them had won yet. At worst, it would be a draw.

“Hmph. Even a draw with her is beneath me,” Mia muttered.

“It’s your move,” Candice said evenly.

Mia had been building toward a sneaky win in a corner—three green pieces already in place. If she got one more, it was over.

Trying to appear calm, she placed her fourth and looked at Candice, holding her breath, hoping she wouldn’t catch it.

Sure enough, Candice placed her piece somewhere else.

Mia instantly lit up and cried out, “I won!”

Caroline immediately clapped to celebrate.

But the next second, they both froze.

Candice’s slender, porcelain-like fingers had already started collecting the pieces from the board.

Only then did they notice: Candice’s seemingly random pieces had formed a perfect line of five.

Both their faces turned pale instantly.

Candice picked up the last two pieces.

In Gobang, it's one round to decide the winner. But Mia Jones, unwilling to lose face, resorted to cheating. "Even though you won first, I also have five in a row now, so I win too," she said, arrogantly placing another piece next to her four.

“...” Candice stared at her like she was an idiot for a few seconds. “In that case, can I keep going too?”

Without waiting for a response, she placed another piece on the board and made another row of five.

Over the next minute, Candice practically cleared the board of Mia’s pieces, blocking her every move.

Mia’s face turned a mix of green and red as she shouted to play again.

The second round. The third. The fourth…

Candice either dragged things out to toy with her, slowly torturing her, or ended the game swiftly and mercilessly, crushing her within a few moves. She was blatantly treating Mia like a fool.

Mia Jones ended up crying out of frustration.

“Enough!”

Kyle snatched the box of pieces from Candice’s hand, his expression icy cold.

Mia, seeing Kyle taking her side, threw herself into his arms and cried even harder, as if Candice had done something terrible to her.

Kyle comforted her. Caroline Jenkins came to console her too, while harshly scolding Candice. “It’s just a game of Gobang! Why take it so seriously? This is exactly the kind of petty, jealous behavior you'd expect from someone raised in a low-class family!”

…

The shouting turned into a dull hum in Candice’s ears.

Kyle’s face in front of her seemed like a faded film strip from the past. Someone who once shone so brightly in her heart now appeared distorted and lifeless.

Forget it.

Only twenty more days.

Let him be.

She tossed the pieces onto the board carelessly and stood up with a look of boredom.

A few drops of blood fell with the movement.

Only after stepping outside did she feel the coldness in her hand—and realize that, at some point, her fingernails had dug into her palm hard enough to draw blood.

“Candice!”

Kyle called her name, a trace of panic finally showing in his voice.

He stood to chase after her, but Mia clung tightly to his waist, sobbing harder than before.

Candice left the Jackson estate.

Her phone rang nonstop—calls from Kyle. She blocked his number.

Then she sent a message to her mother-in-law: “1.5 billion. Not a cent less. Or you’ll pay the price.”

Caroline Jenkins nearly had a heart attack reading that message.

Candice drove on.

At some point, the weather had turned. Rain began to fall heavily, casting a gloomy pall over everything. Her mind drifted with the rhythm of the raindrops.

Suddenly—a flash in front of her. A yellow motorbike zipped across her lane. Her heart lurched. She slammed on the brakes.

The next second—

Bang—!

A violent crash from behind sent her head slamming into the steering wheel.

A sharp pain flared from her temple.

Looking up through the rain-streaked windshield, everything outside looked smeared in red.

She quickly grabbed a tissue and wiped the blood from her eyes.

She’d been rear-ended. And the yellow bike had already vanished.

Knock knock—

Someone tapped on her window.

Candice rolled it down.

A man around fifty stood outside, glasses perched on his nose, looking gentle and refined. Holding a plain black umbrella, he wore an apologetic expression. “Miss, hello. I was the one who hit your car. It’s our fault entirely. But my young master is in a hurry. Could we just exchange contact information? You can send us the repair bill later—we won’t shirk responsibility.”

“Let’s have the police handle it.”

Candice was already in a terrible mood, and after two back-to-back shocks, her patience had hit zero.

She got out of the car and walked to the rear, frowning as she saw the dent the Bentley had made in her bumper. She took photos for evidence and called the police.

The man, seeing she insisted, didn’t press further. He returned to the Bentley to report. “Young Master, the lady doesn’t want to settle privately. What should we do?”

The rain grew heavier.

Water streaked down the windshield, cleared away by the wipers, only to be replaced just as quickly. Inside the car, a man reclined lazily in the back seat, watching the woman outside.

She stood under the downpour, one hand pressed to her bleeding temple as she made a call. Her entire being radiated a dense melancholy. Her white shirt was soaked, clinging to her body. Raindrops clung to her long lashes before falling onto her red lips…

“Young Master?” the driver, Jim, called again.

The man lowered his cool, elegant eyes and glanced at his watch. “Jerry’s on the way. I’ll leave first. You stay and handle this.”

“Yes, sir.”

Candice got back into her car.

Soon after, the police arrived—with a silver Maybach pulling up behind them.

The two vehicles stopped almost simultaneously.

She stepped out of her car.

From the Bentley, the older man got out again—but this time, he was joined by a tall, slender man with a cold and noble aura. His fair skin and deep, fox-like eyes turned toward her as he noticed her gaze. The moment their eyes met, something sharp and commanding stirred in his.

So familiar…

“Give it to her.”

The man casually handed the suit jacket draped over his wrist to Jim, then turned and got into the Maybach without another word.

Jim jogged over to Candice, holding the jacket. “Miss, your clothes are soaked. Please, put this on.”

Candice looked down and realized her white shirt was completely transparent now, even revealing her undergarments.

Embarrassed, she quickly took the jacket and put it on. “Thank you.”

Jim quietly spoke with the police while the Maybach pulled away into the rainy mist. Through the foggy glass, she caught a fleeting glimpse of the man’s flawless profile.

The jacket still held his warmth. Its clean, woodsy scent drove away the chill of the rain.

The police gave their report, and both parties agreed to the resolution. They exchanged phone numbers. Jim offered to take her to the hospital to check on her injury.

Candice declined. Her emotions had settled, and thinking back to how irrationally she’d acted, she even apologized. “It wasn’t your fault. I was just in a bad mood. I’ll have the jacket cleaned and sent back to you.”

Jim didn’t insist otherwise. With his young master’s personality, he probably wouldn’t want the jacket back anyway—but he nodded kindly in agreement.

Candice went to the hospital alone.

Meanwhile, Kyle was growing increasingly frantic—unable to reach her, the rain pouring down, and his mind racing with awful possibilities.

And just then—he got the news that something had happened to her.