Regret Too Late, It Means Nothing Now

“My assistant said you went to the hospital this morning,” Regina snapped. “Don’t tell me you went there to get someone to fake a death certificate.”

Before I could answer, her palm struck my face—hard. The force sent me tumbling down the stairs, landing in a heap at the bottom.

Above me, her voice thundered in fury.

“Luciano! Just because you’re jealous of Hector, you went so far to wish your own daughter's death? You actually bribed a hospital to forge a death certificate?”

“You don’t deserve to be a father,” she spat. “Even a wild animal doesn’t turn on its own child. You’re worse than a beast.”

I pushed myself up, pain searing through my body. “You’re an absolute idiot, Regina,” I muttered through clenched teeth.

I reached out to grab the photo album on the floor, but her high heel came down on my hand before I could.

“Get lost!” she screamed. “You filthy piece of trash! You'd use a child to manipulate me! Don’t even think about stepping foot in the Seco estate again. Everything that belongs to our family—our child, our home—you’re not taking any of it!”

Under her orders, the bodyguards smashed Claudia’s and my luggage, tossing the pieces into the trash bins outside. The photo album Claudia and I had lovingly made together was torn to shreds and thrown out like garbage.

Eyes red, I knelt down, trying to gather the scattered fragments of the last memories I had of my daughter. But the more I tried, the more they slipped through my fingers.

Then, Hector opened a nearby window. A gust of wind swept through, catching the torn photos and sending them fluttering into the air like confetti.

“Oh no,” he said mockingly. “I just thought the whole house was starting to smell like vomit after Mr. Andino’s little meltdown. Thought I’d let in some fresh air.”

“Forget him,” Regina said coldly. “He doesn’t care about his own daughter’s life—this is all just another act to get sympathy from me.”

I let out a bitter laugh.

“Regina,” I said quietly, “Remember what you did today, to me and to our daughter. One day, you’ll pay for it.”

I stumbled out and made my way back to the funeral home. One of the staff members, a kind-faced woman, handed me a small pink jewelry box shaped like a kitten.

“I heard your daughter’s birthday wish was to go to that pink kitty theme park,” she said gently. “So I found this for her. I thought… maybe it’d help her leave this world a little happier.”

My chest tightened as I held the tiny pink box in my arms, tears spilling down my face uncontrollably. A complete stranger had gone out of their way to honor my daughter’s final wish—something even her own mother couldn’t be bothered to do.

“Thank you,” I said, voice trembling. “From Claudia… and from me.” I bowed deeply, from the bottom of my heart.

After arranging the funeral, I went straight to my lawyer. I handed over the video from the day at the amusement park, along with a signed divorce agreement.

“She doesn’t deserve to be Claudia’s mother,” I said firmly. “I want the world to know what she did.”

Swallowing my grief, I used the last of my savings to have a suit custom-made—one last gift of dignity, a way to properly say goodbye to my daughter.

While I was preparing for the funeral, Regina showed up at my apartment. The moment I opened the door, one of her bodyguards drove a boot straight into my chest, knocking the air out of me.

“You think I’ve been too patient with you?” she snapped. “You think you can just keep stirring up drama with Hector and I’ll let it slide?”

“I had a custom suit planned for Hector’s birthday,” she continued. “And you—you went behind our backs and blacklisted him from every designer in the city. What, you wanted to humiliate him in public?”

I realized right away what had happened—an old friend in the design world must’ve done it in solidarity with me. It wasn’t my doing, but I didn’t deny it either.

Wiping the blood from the corner of my mouth, I stared her down. “So what if I did? You two killed my daughter. And you think you still get to celebrate like nothing happened?”

That seemed to set her off. She kicked me again, the pointed heel of her shoe jabbing into my ribs.

“When are you going to stop with this obsession?” she shouted. “You keep dragging Claudia into this, like you’re trying to curse your own daughter!”