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When the Secret is Revealed, Your Regret Is Too Late Novel Cover

When the Secret is Revealed, Your Regret Is Too Late

During a high-profile jewelry launch, a pregnant woman is brutally assaulted by her husband's companion, Lisa Goodrem, leading to a tragic miscarriage. Instead of showing concern, her billionaire husband, Christopher Adam, mockingly dismisses her agony before walking away with his mistress. While recovering in the hospital, she watches her husband passionately embrace Lisa on television. Broken after eight years of helping the Adam family survive their crisis, she begs her mother-in-law for a divorce.
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Chapter 3

The door swung open wider than necessary, exposing me to the harsh hotel lighting.

Christopher frowned, his gaze darkening as he took in my appearance. Without warning, he yanked open my coat, revealing the hospital gown underneath. His voice dripped with disdain.

“You’re still wearing this pathetic thing after falling down earlier?” He scoffed. “Ariana Anderson, do you ever stop putting on a show?”

His sharp gaze raked over me, cutting through what little dignity I had left. I swallowed the pain, knowing nothing I said would change his mind.

I bent down, hurriedly grabbing my coat from the floor and wrapping it tightly around myself. All I wanted was to leave. But before I could turn away, a pair of strong hands seized me from behind.

Christopher stepped closer, his lips curling into a cruel smile.

“Since you’re here, you might as well stay,” he mused. “How thoughtful of you. Serve me well tonight. Liz and I will sleep in the bedroom—” he paused, eyes glinting with amusement, saying, “and you can sleep on the sofa.”

A sickening wave of nausea rolled through me.

I struggled, trying to wrench myself free, but every movement sent sharp, stabbing pain through my abdomen.

Christopher didn’t care. He dragged me into the room with force, slamming the door shut behind us.

That night, just as I expected, the bedroom walls echoed with the sounds of pleasure.

I curled into the corner of the sofa, pressing my hands over my ears, trying to drown it out.

But fate seemed to enjoy tormenting me.

The TV flickered on, displaying today’s headlines—clips of Christopher and Lisa, smiling, laughing, their fingers intertwined like lovers in a fairytale.

The contrast was unbearable.

I reached for the remote, wanting to turn it off, but my hands trembled so violently I couldn’t even grip it.

The moans from the bedroom intertwined with the syrupy sweetness on the screen, twisting into a grotesque lullaby.

I clenched my nails into my palms, digging deep, trying to anchor myself against the suffocating pain. But even that no longer hurt.

By the time the bedroom door finally creaked open, dawn had begun to break.

Christopher emerged first, Lisa trailing behind, draped lazily in his arms.

He pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, his expression tender—so different from the way he looked at me.

Then, his gaze shifted, locking onto me. His voice remained as indifferent as ever.

“Go home.” His words were a dismissal, a cruel mockery. “Didn’t you love being Mrs. Adam? Hope you enjoyed it enough tonight.”

With that, he stroked Lisa’s cheek a few times, whispering something that made her giggle, before grabbing my wrist and yanking me toward the door.

I knew Christopher wouldn’t let me leave so easily.

And sure enough, the moment we stepped outside the hotel, I was ambushed.

A sea of reporters swarmed toward me like ravenous wolves, cameras flashing like gunfire.

I wasn’t at yesterday’s press conference, so they must have been holding back their questions, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike.

And Christopher had delivered me straight to them—offering me up like prey.

The moment they spotted me, they pounced.

Microphones shoved toward my face.

Blinding lights flashing relentlessly.

“Mrs. Adam, have you seen the footage of Mr. Adam and Miss Goodrem at yesterday’s press conference? What are your thoughts?”

“Mrs. Adam, is it true your marriage is on the rocks?”

“Mrs. Adam, Miss Goodrem claims she and Mr. Adam are just like siblings—do you believe her?”

“Mrs. Adam, we have photos of Miss Goodrem staying in this hotel last night. It appears she and Mr. Adam entered a room together. Yet, this morning, you and Mr. Adam are leaving together. Can you explain why?”

Mr. Adam. Mr. Adam. Mr. Adam.

They wielded the title like a dagger, slicing into me with every question.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Christopher watching me.

His expression was unreadable, but the sheer depth of hatred in his eyes sent a shiver down my spine.

What kind of resentment made a man drag himself through the mud just to see someone else drown?

I hadn’t slept all night. My head throbbed with an unbearable ache.

Summoning the last of my strength, I shoved past the reporters, stumbling forward.

I had to get away.

But as I reached the first intersection outside the hotel…

The world around me spun and darkness swallowed me whole.

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