Too Late For Regret: My Lost Heir

The Sterling family estate in the Hamptons was a fortress of old money. Stone walls, iron gates, and a driveway long enough to land a plane on. Seraphina stepped out of the Uber at the gate. She refused to let the driver take her to the door. She wanted the walk. She needed the air.

She was wearing a black dress. It was floor-length, long-sleeved, and loose around the waist. It was elegant, but severe.

Julian was waiting on the front steps. He looked impeccable in a tuxedo, but his eyes were darting around nervously. When he saw her, he frowned.

You look like you are going to a funeral, he said as she approached.

I am, Seraphina said. She didn't stop walking. I am mourning our marriage.

Julian flinched. He fell into step beside her. He reached for her arm to guide her up the stairs. His hand was warm.

Don't touch me, she hissed.

Grandmother is watching from the window, he muttered through a fake smile. Smile, Sera.

Seraphina forced the corners of her mouth up. It felt like cracking plaster. She let him link his arm with hers. The contact made her skin crawl.

They entered the grand dining room. A chandelier the size of a small car hung over the table. Grandmother Sterling sat at the head, looking like a queen on a throne.

Seraphina, she said. You look... pale.

I have been under the weather, Grandmother, Seraphina said, taking her seat.

The old woman's eyes dropped instantly to Seraphina's stomach. Any good news? she asked bluntly.

Seraphina felt her stomach lurch. She reached for her water glass. No, Grandmother. Just a stomach bug.

Julian jumped in. The quarterly earnings are up twelve percent, Grandmother. The tech sector acquisition is moving forward.

He talked about business for an hour. Seraphina pushed the food around her plate. The smell of the roast lamb was making her dizzy.

Halfway through dessert, Julian's phone, which was sitting face up on the table, lit up.

It wasn't a text. It was a video message notification. The preview thumbnail was large. It showed Harper, looking devastated, holding a bouquet of dead, withered roses. Tears were streaming down her face.

Julian's hand shot out and flipped the phone over. The loud clack echoed in the room.

Grandmother Sterling raised an eyebrow. Trouble at the office?

Something like that, Julian said. His jaw was tight.

Seraphina took a sip of water. She felt a cold, calm detachment. The video was clearly staged. Who films themselves crying with dead flowers unless they want an audience?

After dinner, Julian pulled Seraphina into his father's old study. He closed the heavy door and locked it.

You were good out there, he said. He sounded relieved. He walked to the desk and picked up a folder.

I added something to the settlement, he said. To thank you. The villa in Miami. It's worth six million.

Seraphina didn't look at the folder.

I told you, she said. I don't want it.

She opened her small clutch purse and pulled out a single sheet of paper. She placed it on the desk.

This is a waiver of assets, she said. I have already signed it. I am taking nothing. No alimony. No properties. No stocks.

Julian stared at her. He looked genuinely confused. Are you crazy? Without me, you have nothing. You are a Vanderbilt with no money. How will you survive?

Seraphina looked him in the eye. Without you, I am finally myself.

Julian opened his mouth to argue, but his phone began to ring. A shrill, demanding sound.

He looked at the screen. His face went white.

It's the nurse, he said. He answered on speaker.

Mr. Sterling! It's Harper! She passed out! She's coughing up blood! There's blood everywhere!

The color drained from Julian's face. Pure, unadulterated terror filled his eyes.

I'm coming! he shouted.

He dropped the phone into his pocket. He grabbed his car keys. He ran for the door. He didn't even look at the waiver Seraphina had put on the desk.

Wait here, he threw over his shoulder. We will talk when I get back.

He slammed the door.

Seraphina stood in the silence of the study. She looked at the waiver. She picked it up and placed it squarely in the center of the desk, under a heavy crystal paperweight.

She walked out of the house. She walked past the confused staff. She walked down the long driveway to the main road.

She called a car.

When she got in, she checked her phone. A text from Zoe.

Tomorrow morning. 9 AM. Don't be late again.

Seraphina typed back: I won't.

Miles away, in a hospital room, Harper West wiped her mouth with a tissue. She looked at the red stain. It was corn syrup and red food coloring.

The nurse stood in the corner, trembling. If the doctor finds out...

Harper looked at her. Her eyes were sharp and clear. There was no pain in them.

If Seraphina disappears, Harper said, no one will look close enough to find out anything.