Too Late For Regret: My Billionaire Husband

Cressie put on her robe and went down to the kitchen. The house was silent.

Mrs. Higgins, the housekeeper, was at the stove. She was frying bacon. The smell was heavenly.

"Good morning, Mrs. Higgins," Cressie said, reaching for a plate.

Higgins slapped her hand away with a spatula.

"Not for you," Higgins said. Her lip curled. "Mr. Banks requested a specific diet for you. Oatmeal. Water. No fats."

Cressie looked at the pile of crispy bacon, the fluffy scrambled eggs, the toast. "I'm pregnant. I need protein."

"Mr. Banks says you're gaining too much weight," Higgins said smugly. "He says it's embarrassing."

Cressie felt the blood rush to her ears. "He said that?"

"Explicitly." Higgins turned back to the stove. "Make your own oatmeal. The instant kind is in the pantry."

Cressie looked at the food. It was perfectly prepared. It was Ellsworth's favorite breakfast.

She looked at the trash can.

Something inside her snapped. It wasn't a loud snap. It was a quiet, decisive click.

She picked up the platter of bacon and eggs.

"What are you doing?" Higgins screeched.

Cressie walked to the bin and tilted the plate. The food slid off-bacon, eggs, toast-into the garbage, landing on top of coffee grounds.

"You crazy witch!" Higgins lunged, but it was too late.

"If I can't eat," Cressie said, her voice deadly calm, "then no one eats."

"What is going on here?"

Ellsworth stood in the doorway, dressed for work. He looked at the empty platter. He looked at the trash.

"She threw your breakfast away!" Higgins wailed, pointing a greasy finger at Cressie. "She's hysterical! I told her she had to stick to the diet you ordered, and she went crazy!"

Ellsworth looked at Cressie. "You wasted food? Do you know how childish that is?"

"I'm hungry, Ellsworth," Cressie said. "And your servant refused to feed me."

"Mrs. Higgins is not a servant, she is family," Ellsworth corrected. "And she's right. You are... swollen. You need to watch it."

He sided with the help. He sided with the woman who had just slapped her hand.

Cressie looked at him. Really looked at him.

"Apologize to Mrs. Higgins," Ellsworth said.

The room went still.

"No," Cressie said.

"Excuse me?"

"I said no." Cressie untied her robe and retied it, tighter. "I'm going out for breakfast. Put it on your black card."

She walked out of the kitchen.

"Cressie!" Ellsworth shouted after her.

She didn't stop. She didn't turn around.

She went to the garage, got into the town car, and told the driver to take her to a diner in Queens. A greasy spoon where no one knew her name.

She ordered pancakes, eggs, sausages, and a milkshake. She ate alone in a booth, tears streaming down her face as she chewed.

When she was done, she wiped her face with a paper napkin. She felt full. She felt strong.

She pulled out her laptop. She connected to the diner's spotty Wi-Fi.

She opened a new document.

Subject: Banks Capital - Discrepancies in Liquidity Ratios & Shell Company Audit.

She cracked her knuckles.

"You want to starve me?" she whispered to the blinking cursor. "I'll audit your cash flow until it bleeds."

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