Regret Too Late, It Means Nothing Now

“Where’s Claudia?” Regina snapped. “Where are you hiding her? Bring her back so she can finish this cake and apologize to Hector!”

“Claudia’s dead,” I said through clenched teeth, fighting the burning pain in my chest. “If you want someone to eat that cake, let it be Hector—in hell!”

“You’re disgusting!” she shouted, eyes blazing. “Jealousy has made you so twisted, you’d curse your own daughter just to get back at me?”

Her fury boiled over. “Don’t think I don’t know what you did back then. After my accident, it was Hector who stayed by my side, he told me everything! I gave birth while I was still unconscious and you killed our child. You forced Hector out of the country, stole the company shares, did everything in your power to erase him!”

She was trembling with rage now. “I kept quiet all these years out of gratitude — for you sticking around, for raising a family with me. But you weren’t satisfied. You kept bullying Hector and now you're cursing my daughter.”

At her signal, the bodyguard twisted my arms behind my back and pinned me to the counter. Regina grabbed a handful of greasy mango cake and started shoving it into my mouth.

The scent hit me first, mango. I began choking almost immediately, my throat tightening, lungs gasping for air.

“Let me go!” I wheezed. “Regina… you know I’m allergic to mango—”

She paused for a second, but turned ruthless the next second.

“Oh, please. After everything you’ve done to Hector, you think this is some kind of tragedy? It’s just an allergy. You’re not going to die. Stop being so dramatic. You're a grown man. Now finish the damn cake and apologize.”

My throat swelled faster than I could speak. My eyes burned and puffed shut. Breathing felt like sucking air through a straw. Darkness started creeping in from the edges of my vision.

Then I stopped struggling. The moment my hands went limp, Regina froze. Panic flickered across her face.

“Where’s his allergy meds? The ones he keeps in the house! Find them! Now!”

Someone must’ve found them, because minutes later I was swallowing the bitter pills and little by little, air trickled back into my lungs. My vision blurred, my face burning, but I could breathe.

I opened my swollen, bloodshot eyes.

Regina let out a shaky breath, trying to compose herself. “Alright,” she said, her voice uneven. “You and Hector are even now. But I want your word—swear to me that from now on, you’ll never hurt Hector or his child ever again.”

“Hector’s a rising star in the business world now. He’s got real potential.” She smirked. “You, on the other hand, get to lounge around playing house all day. So do the decent thing—promise you’ll help him raise his kid. Treat the child like your own.”

She looked pleased with herself, already spinning fantasies in her head. “I’ll make time to visit you and Claudia once or twice a week. That should be enough.”

I said nothing. Her smile faltered.

“What are you even angry about?” she snapped. “If you hadn’t meddled all those years ago, our baby wouldn’t have died. Hector wouldn’t have been forced to leave the country. And I wouldn’t have had to give up everything just to marry you for the company shares. Don’t you get it? By now, our child would be the same age as Claudia.”

Her voice rose, “Everything you and Claudia have, it was all stolen from Hector! So what right do you have to be upset?”

I couldn’t take another word. I cut her off, my voice hoarse with rage. “Don’t you dare talk about my daughter again. I’m done. I’ve already sent you the divorce papers. You can go back to Hector.”

She laughed, “Fine. But don’t think I won’t fight for custody. I’ll hire the best lawyers money can buy. You think a deadbeat like you stands a chance?”

Then her tone turned mocking. “Unless you want to lose Claudia too, you’d better get on your knees and apologize right now.”

That was it. I pulled out the document I’d been holding and threw it at her.

“You want to talk about Claudia? She's dead! Read this!”

Regina picked it up, confused, then froze. It was Claudia’s death certificate. Her name—“Claudia Andino”—stared back in stark black ink on white paper.

Regina staggered back like she’d been physically struck. “No... That’s not possible…”

Before I could speak, Hector suddenly chimed in, glancing at his phone. “Wait, that’s weird. Claudia’s nanny just texted me—she says Claudia’s been crying nonstop, looking for you.”