Too Late For Regret, Mr. CEO

The heavy oak doors of the master suite swung open.

Arden and Federico walked into the massive, dimly lit room.

Augusta, the matriarch of the Monroe family, was propped up against a mountain of pillows. Her skin looked fragile and pale, but her dark eyes were as sharp and predatory as an eagle's.

Augusta waved her hand, dismissing the private doctor and the butler. The heavy doors clicked shut, leaving the three of them alone.

She completely ignored her grandson.

She reached a shaking hand out toward Arden, gesturing for her to sit on the edge of the mattress. Augusta gently cupped Arden's pale cheek, her thumb brushing away a stray hair.

Suddenly, Augusta reached under her blanket.

She pulled out a thick manila envelope and threw it violently at Federico's chest. It hit him with a loud smack.

It was the divorce agreement Arden had signed.

Federico caught the envelope as it fell. He looked at the seal, his jaw clenching tight.

"How did you get your hands on this? Did you illegally access my private lawyer's files, Grandma?" he demanded, his voice tight with controlled anger.

Augusta slammed her wooden cane against the hardwood floor.

"My legal team was automatically copied on the trust dispute filing, you arrogant fool!" she barked. "You are letting a manipulative, calculating snake cloud your judgment."

She pointed a crooked finger at him. "As long as I have breath in my lungs, Brooklyn Garcia will never set foot in a Monroe house."

Federico stood his ground, his posture rigid.

"Brooklyn is the one who suffered back then. Arden doesn't even want me. Her heart is somewhere else."

"Nonsense!" Augusta snapped, cutting him off. "My eyes work better than yours ever will. Arden is the only woman fit to run this family."

Augusta leaned forward, pulling her ultimate weapon.

"The foundational bylaws of the family trust dictate that the primary heir must maintain a stable marriage. If you push this divorce through, I will use my veto power on the board. I will freeze your thirty percent stake in the Monroe Group."

Federico stared at his grandmother in absolute shock.

He could not believe she was willing to use the highest level of family power to blackmail him over a divorce.

He slowly turned his head to look at Arden.

His eyes were filled with pure, burning betrayal. He was entirely convinced Arden had run to Augusta and manipulated the old woman into doing this.

Arden felt the heat of his glare.

She quickly shook her head, looking at Augusta. "Grandma, no. I agreed to the divorce. You don't have to do this for me."

Augusta patted Arden's hand firmly. "Hush, child. I am handling this."

Federico ground his teeth together. He was a businessman first; he could not afford to lose control of his shares right now.

"Fine," he said, his voice like cracking ice. "The legal proceedings are paused. But my mind is not changing."

He turned around and stormed out of the bedroom, the air vibrating with his suppressed rage.

Once the door closed, Augusta let out a long, tired sigh. Her face softened.

She looked at Arden with deep, knowing eyes. "He is just trapped in the past, Arden. He cares for you more than he realizes."

Arden offered a sad, hollow smile. She didn't argue, but in her heart, she thought the old woman was simply delusional.

Augusta picked up the landline phone next to her bed. She dialed the head of the family's PR team.

Her voice turned back to iron. "Leak a story to the press immediately. I want photos of Federico and Arden. Emphasize that the Monroe marriage is rock solid."

She paused. "And send a private, formal warning letter to Brooklyn Garcia. Tell her to stay in her lane."

Listening to Augusta ruthlessly protect her, a strange warmth spread through Arden's chest. This fierce old woman was her only shield in this cold family.

After making sure Augusta was resting comfortably, Arden left the room.

The hallway was empty. Federico was nowhere to be seen.

She walked down the long corridor toward the outdoor balcony, needing the cold ocean breeze to settle her rolling stomach.

As she stepped near the open French doors, she heard loud, angry voices coming from the gardens below.

She peeked over the stone railing.

Federico was standing on the grass, arguing fiercely with his father, Cornelius.

The wind carried Cornelius's vicious words up to the balcony.

"That woman is a parasite!" Cornelius yelled. "Are you really going to repeat Jude's mistakes and let her destroy you too?"