Too Late For Regret: The Heiress's Revenge

I spent a decade learning to save lives as a trauma surgeon, only to discover my parents had sold mine to the highest bidder.

To end a turf war, I was forced back into the underworld to marry Ivan Hughes, a rival mob boss known for his brutality.

I thought I was just a pawn in a business merger, but then my steady surgeon’s hands began to tremble, and a metallic taste filled my mouth.

I ran my own toxicology report in secret.

Positive for arsenic.

My mother wasn't just forcing me into a loveless marriage; she was slowly poisoning me.

I broke into my father's safe and found the truth: a birth certificate for Ivan’s secret son with his mistress, and a chain of emails between my mother and my fiancé.

"The dosage is being increased," my mother wrote.

"By the wedding night, she will be too weak to protest. You can dispose of her quietly after the heir is secured."

My blood turned to ice.

They were using me to transfer my trust fund to Ivan, planning to bury me and replace me with his mistress before the honeymoon even started.

They thought they were killing a helpless girl. They forgot that a surgeon knows exactly where to cut to cause the most damage.

I taped a microphone to my ribs beneath my white silk gown and walked onto the stage of our engagement gala.

I didn't take the microphone to say "I do."

I took it to burn their empire to the ground.

Chapter 1

Aliana POV:

I had spent ten years learning how to save lives as a trauma surgeon, only to find out my own had been sold to the highest bidder before I had even finished my residency.

The tires of the black SUV crunched over the gravel, a sound that used to signal safety but now sounded like the closing of a prison gate.

My hands were folded in my lap.

They were steady.

A surgeon's hands are always steady, even when the rest of the body is screaming to run.

The driver didn't speak to me.

He was just one of my father's men, a shadow in a suit, trained to follow orders and ignore the cargo.

And that is what I was.

Cargo.

The Donovan estate loomed out of the darkness.

It was a sprawling mansion of stone and ivy, bathed in the artificial glow of security lights.

It looked majestic to the outside world.

To me, it looked like a mausoleum.

I hadn't been here in seven years.

I thought I had escaped.

I thought my medical degree and my life in Boston were enough to sever the blood ties.

But when the Don calls, you answer.

Or you die.

The car stopped, and the door opened.

I stepped out into the cool night air, but I couldn't breathe.

The air here was thick with secrets and the metallic scent of old blood.

I was escorted to the main hall.

My parents were waiting.

Richard and Eleanor Donovan sat in high-backed velvet chairs like royalty holding court.

They didn't stand.

They didn't smile.

There were no tears of reunion.

My mother's eyes scanned me, critiquing my simple dress, my lack of jewelry, and my exhaustion.

My father looked at his watch.

"You are late, Aliana," Richard said.

His voice was a low rumble, the voice that commanded soldiers and ordered hits.

"Traffic," I said.

I didn't apologize.

I wasn't a child anymore, even if they treated me like one.

"Sit," he commanded.

I sat on the edge of the sofa opposite them.

"We have news," Eleanor said.

She smoothed her skirt, her fingers laden with diamonds that probably cost more than my entire medical education.

"The alliance with the Hughes family needs to be solidified."

I felt a cold knot form in my stomach.

The Hughes family controlled the docks and the chemical plants.

They were brutal.

They were powerful.

And they were our rivals.

"Ivan Hughes has asked for a union," Richard said.

He didn't say marriage.

He said union.

Like a merger of corporations.

I accepted the words in silence.

He didn't ask me.

He didn't need to.

This was the Don's Command.

In our world, a daughter is just a currency to be traded for peace or power.

I looked at my father.

"Ivan Hughes is the Underboss," I said, my voice tight. "He is known for skinning men alive who cross him."

"He is strong," Richard said. "He will protect you."

Protect me.

That was the lie they always told.

They protect us by locking us in cages.

"The wedding is in two months," Eleanor added. "You will stay here. You will learn to be a wife. You will forget your little hospital job."

"My career isn't a job, Mother," I said. "It is my life."

"Not anymore," Richard said.

He stood up.

The conversation was over.

I was led to a guest room.

Not my old room.

That had been turned into a storage space for my mother's furs.

This room was cold.

It smelled of lemon polish and disuse.

I walked to the window.

I looked out at the grounds, at the armed guards patrolling the perimeter.

I was trapped.

The next morning, the house was a hive of activity.

Servants moved with their heads down.

They whispered when I passed, but stopped abruptly when I looked at them.

They knew.

Everyone knew but me.

I was summoned to the library at noon.

He was there.

Ivan Hughes.

He was taller than I expected.

He wore a suit that fit him like a second skin, expensive and dark.

His hair was slicked back, revealing a face that was devastatingly handsome and utterly cruel.

He didn't look like a monster.

That was the dangerous part.

He looked like a prince.

"Aliana," he said.

His voice was smooth, like velvet wrapped around a blade.

He took my hand.

He didn't kiss it.

He inspected it.

"Surgeon's hands," he noted. "Steady."

I pulled my hand back.

"Ivan," I said.

My father stood by the fireplace, watching us like he was watching a horse trade.

Ivan smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

His eyes were dead.

Cold, blue ice.

"I look forward to our life together," he said.

He stepped closer, invading my personal space.

I smelled expensive cologne and faint tobacco.

"I have big plans for us. For the families."

He gestured to the papers on the desk.

"Hughes Bio-Med," he said. "A legitimate face for our combined strength. You will be the perfect image for it. A doctor. A Donovan. A wife."

He wasn't looking for a partner.

He was looking for a prop.

I tried to find something human in him.

Some spark of warmth.

But all I saw was calculation.

Later that evening, there was a dinner.

The table was set with silver and crystal.

The wine flowed red and heavy.

I barely touched my food.

I heard a servant whisper near the sideboard.

She mentioned a guest.

A secret guest.

My mother's head snapped up.

She glared at the servant, silencing her instantly.

"Who is the guest?" I asked.

"No one," Eleanor said sharply. "Eat your soup, Aliana."

The tension was palpable.

It vibrated in the air like a plucked string.

Ivan stood up to make a toast.

He raised his glass.

"To Aliana," he said.

"To the future of our families. I promise to protect her."

He looked directly at me.

His smile was predatory.

"To keep her safe. To keep her close."

I raised my glass, my hand trembling slightly for the first time in years.

I looked into his eyes and saw the truth.

He didn't want to protect me.

He wanted to own me.

And I had nowhere left to run.