Lost Me Gained Regret

"Get your ass back here!"

She yelled, then immediately feared attracting the attention of reporters and quickly slammed the door shut.

Recalling her assistant's words, she dug through the chaos to find her phone.

The top trending news had changed - Bella denies Summer's lineage.

Summer felt her strength leave her. At that moment, unable to focus on anything else, she instinctively dialed Mark's number...

The call went unanswered until the cold, mechanical voice of the voicemail greeted her.

Summer, relentless, dialed again and again.

But each time, no answer, just the automatic hang-up.

"Argh!!!" Summer screamed in frustration and despair, and in a fit of rage, she threw her phone against the wall, shattering its screen.

This time, it wasn't that Mark didn't want to answer; he simply couldn't.

Even though the phone was right in front of him.

Gregory lounged on the central couch as if he owned the place, legs casually propped up, showing none of the respect due to a host's home. Mark could only sit on a nearby armchair.

But he was in no hurry, leisurely sipping his coffee, holding the most significant bargaining chip after all this time of careful planning.

He was determined to win over Jane.

Gregory was also taking his time. He picked up the coffee pot and poured himself a cup, fighting the urge to throw the hot liquid in Mark's face. Instead, their cups gently clinked together.

Neither spoke, but the tension between them was palpable.

"Boss." Lucius approached, whispering to Gregory.

His team had searched everywhere, sparing no nook or cranny, and even employed devices for a thorough check, yet they found no antidote.

By the time they came to Mark's place, they had already searched everywhere he had been, his company, and every conceivable location. "Nothing."

A cold fury flashed in Gregory's eyes.

He set

forcefully, I causing it to crack. Lucius

subtly

to

daside, nos

be splattered with blood.

Gregory's patience was thin, especially in the presence of someone who troubled him and harbored intentions towards his wife.

He casually picked up a baseball bat, weighing it in his hand as he slowly rose from the couch.

Mark didn't flinch, calmly meeting

Gregory's gaze. "If you're capable, kill

me. But you'll never find the antidote. I might as well tell you, your acupuncture might seem to have delayed the poison, but it hasn't suppressed it. It's almost fully integrated into her bloodstream by now. It'll act within two days, and it'll be excruciating. Gregory, don't be so confident, as if everything is under your control. You don't even know where this poison came from, how could you possibly develop a complete antidote?"

With each word, Gregory's grip on the baseball bat tightened, the veins on his hands visibly throbbing with rage.

Suddenly, he cracked a cold smile,

his voice as chilling as ice that hasn't melted in a thousand years, "And what makes you so confident, thinking you have the upper hand?"

In a swift motion, he swung the bat. It didn't seem forceful, but it sliced through the air with a whistle.

It was too late for Mark to dodge.

Even though Gregory didn't aim to kill, he made sure it hurt like hell.Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

Crash-

The baseball bat shattered in Gregory's grip.

Splinters dug into his palm, drawing blood.

Gregory didn't even flinch, casually shaking off his hand.

He stood tall, looking down at Mark crumpled on the floor as if viewing a struggling, overconfident ant. "The antidote is the only leverage you have over Jane; of course, it's kept in the safest place possible."