His Regret Came Far Too Late

The last thing I remembered from my first life was the smell of wet fur and the sound of snapping bone.

When the kidnappers took me and my sister, my father was busy celebrating his anniversary with his second wife. Valerie had wanted a romantic getaway, so my father had taken the entire security detail and driven upstate to their private cabin.

The burglars, who had been casing our house for weeks, saw their window.

My little sister, Zoey, died trying to protect me. She was brutalized by those men, left clinging to a thread of life while I screamed into a dead phone line. I had called my father dozens of times, begging him not to get on that plane, pleading for him to turn the car around.

In that life, he eventually came back. We were "saved," technically.

But because he abandoned Valerie to rescue us, she spiraled into a performative depression. Pregnant at the time, she threw herself into the river in a fit of rageher fate left "unknown" to the public, though her daughter, Crystal, made sure the blame landed squarely on us. Crystal showed my father a forged suicide note, claiming Zoey and I had hired the kidnappers ourselves just to keep him from his anniversary date.

My father didn't act like he believed her at first. He comforted us. He told us not to worry.

Then, after legally transferring the entire company to Crystal, he drugged our dinner.

He didn't take us to a hospital. He took us to a remote kennela place for fighting dogs. As he locked the cage from the outside, his eyes were as cold as a winter morning in Manhattan.

"If it weren't for you two, Valerie and my unborn child would still be alive," he said, his voice devoid of any fatherly warmth. "You need to atone for her. I only need one daughter, and Crystal is enough. You two... youre just dead weight."

The dogs were hungry. I died in agony, my heart breaking long before my body gave out.

Then, I opened my eyes.

I was back in the villa. It was the day of the kidnapping.

When the heavy thud sounded at the front door, the fog in my brain finally cleared. I lunged forward, grabbing Zoeys arm just as she started to get up.

"Maddy?" she asked, blinking in confusion. "Is that the DoorDash guy?"

I didn't answer. I dragged her into the walk-in pantry, my hands shaking as I pulled up the security app on my phone.

When the feed loaded, Zoey gasped, pressing her hand over her mouth.

On the screen, a massive man dressed in black stood under the porch light. He wasn't carrying a delivery bag. He was gripping a rusted crowbar.

"Don't make a sound," I whispered, my heart hammering against my ribs. "Wait for him to leave."

In my last life, Zoey had been too trusting. Shed opened the door, and the nightmare had begun. If my father hadn't returned when he did back then, we would have...

But the memory of the dogs chilled me to the marrow. My father hadn't saved us because he loved us; he had saved us so he could kill us himself later.

"II have to call Dad," Zoey hissed, her eyes wide with terror as she fumbled for her phone. "He just left. He can bring the guards back..."

On the screen, the man stopped knocking. My breath hitched. I thought maybe, just maybe, hed think the house was empty.

But then, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a key.

"Maddy..." Zoeys voice broke into a sob.

My blood ran cold. He didn't just have a crowbar; he had a key to the front door. This wasn't a random hit. We were being targeted.

I hit the silent alarm for the police, typing out our coordinates with trembling fingers. Beside me, Zoeys call connected.

"Zoey? What is it now?" Our fathers familiar, annoyed baritone filled the small space.

"Dad!" Zoey whispered, her voice thick with fear. "Someones in the house. He has a crowbar and a key. Please, you have to bring the security team back. Please help us!"

I leaned against her, listening to the silence on the other end.

There was a five-second pause. Then, a sharp, irritated sigh.

"Zoey, stop the theatrics. I told you, today is my anniversary with Valerie. I don't have time for these little games you and Maddy play for attention."

On my screen, the man had unlocked the door. The deadbolt slid back with a heavy thwack.

I snatched the phone from Zoey. "Dad, this isn't a game! Look at the cloud footage if you don't believe us! If you don't come back right now, youre going to be coming home to a crime scene!"

I expected panic. I expected him to roar into action like he did the first time.

Instead, his voice turned arctic. "Maddy, I know you hate Valerie. But faking a home invasion? Thats low, even for you. You two are so desperate to ruin her day that youd lie about your own safety."

"Dad"

"Im not falling for it this time. Don't call me again."

Click.

He hung up. Zoey and I stared at each other in the dim light of the pantry.

My soul felt like it was being submerged in ice. In my previous life, the moment he heard the word 'kidnapper,' he had raced back so fast he nearly totaled his car. This time, his reaction was the opposite.

A sickening thought took root: He remembers too.

If he had been reborn with the memories of the 'first' life, he believed we had faked the first kidnapping to spite Valerie. He thought the trauma we went throughthe broken bones, the violationwas all a staged performance.

But it had been real. It was real then, and it was real now.

"Maddy, what do we do?" Zoeys eyes were brimming with tears. "Why does he think were lying?"

Before I could answer, the pantry door groaned. Two violent strikes of metal against wood shattered the lock.

"Found you," the man growled.

He swung the door open, his hulking frame blocking out the light. He looked at us with the predatory hunger of a wolf finding two lambs in a pen.

The crowbar came down with a sickening crunch, shattering my left tibia.

The pain was a white-hot explosion. I screamed, collapsing as the man grabbed Zoey by her hair. She was paralyzed, her eyes rolling back in terror.

"Im gonna give you girls a chance," the man rasped. "Call your rich daddy. Tell him to pay up for his precious little princesses, or I start taking pieces of you home in Tupperware."

Sweat poured down my face as I clutched my mangled leg. In the last life, hed said the same thing. But I knew better now. This man wasn't just a kidnapper; he was a butcher. He had no intention of letting us live. He would break us until there was nothing left to break, then discard the remains.

To buy time, I grabbed my phone and redialed my father.

He picked up on the third ring, sounding purely murderous. "Maddy? Again? I swear to God"

"Listen to me!" I gasped, glancing at the kidnapper. "Dad, I"

The man snatched the phone from my hand. "One hour," he barked into the receiver. "Ten million dollars, or I kill them both. Start with the pretty one."

To punctuate his point, he slammed his heavy boot down on Zoeys shin.

"No!" I shrieked.

Zoey had been a ballerina since she was five. Her legs were her life, her joy, her entire future. I heard the bone snapa dry, sharp sound like a branch breaking in winter.

Zoeys scream was a high-pitched wail that seemed to tear the air apart.

My heart hammered against my ribs. Surely, even if he hated us, he would hear that scream. He used to love us. He used to be our hero before Valerie moved in and slowly poisoned the well.

Then, my father spoke.

"Ten million?" he repeated. His voice was flat, bored. "Then kill them."

The world seemed to stop spinning.

"Theyre ungrateful, manipulative brats," my father continued. "Maybe if theyre dead, Ill finally have some peace. Maddy, if youre listening, your acting has improved, but tell your friend hes overdoing the sound effects. Don't call me again, or Im cutting your trust funds to zero."

The line went dead. He blocked the number a second later.

"Son of a bitch," the kidnapper spat, looking at the phone. He turned to me, his eyes gleaming with a sudden, dark malice. "Looks like Daddy doesn't want you back. Guess that means I can do whatever I want with you."

I lay on the floor of the pantry, watching in horror as he grabbed Zoey by the hair and began dragging her toward the living room like a sack of laundry.

"Leave her alone!" I roared.

I dragged my useless, throbbing leg across the hardwood, trying to reach them, but the man backhanded me so hard the world tilted. My left ear erupted in a sharp, ringing pain.

"Maddy!" Zoey sobbed, thrashing in his grip.

My heart was breaking. I hated him. I hated my father with a ferocity that burned hotter than the pain in my leg. He knew what was happening. He chose to believe a lie because it was more convenient for his perfect life with Valerie.

I lunged forward, sinking my teeth into the kidnappers wrist. I prayed for the police. I prayed for a miracle.

The man howled in rage. He dropped Zoey and pinned me to the floor, raining blows down on my face. I felt a tooth click against the floorboards. Blood filled my mouth, and the world began to gray at the edges.

"Stop it! Stop hitting her!"

Zoey, usually so fragile, found a heavy crystal ashtray on the coffee table. She swung it with everything she had, catching the man in the temple.

He didn't go down, but he stumbled. He turned on her, his face a mask of pure fury. He grabbed her wrist and twisted.

The sound of her joint popping made me want to vomit.

"You little bitch!"

He threw her onto the sofa, his hand ripping into the collar of her shirt. The sound of tearing fabric sent a jolt of adrenaline through me.

"Don't touch her! Don't you dare touch her!"

Zoey was screaming. I scrambled up, my vision swimming, and grabbed the ashtray. I slammed it into the back of the man's head with a guttural roar.

He slumped, dazed, falling to his knees.

"Zoey, run!" I wheezed.

I grabbed her hand, snatching a set of car keys off the table. We had to get to the gates. There were security guards at the main entrance a mile away. If we could get to them, we were safe.

We made it to the heavy front door, but a massive hand clamped onto my shoulder. A blade flashed in the dim light.

"Maddy, go!"

Zoey threw her entire weight into the man, knocking him off balance. The knife swiped across her face, leaving a long, jagged red line across her cheek.

"No! Zoey, Im not leaving you!"

Her eyes, filled with blood and tears, met mine. "Lock the door! Go to the guards! Get help!"

She shoved me out and slammed the door from the inside, locking it. I heard the man roar and the sound of a struggle. My heart was shattering into a million pieces, but I couldn't stop. I ran for the SUV in the driveway, sobbing as I shifted into gear.

The security station was less than a mile down the winding mountain road. I made it there in three minutes, practically falling out of the car before the gate.

The guards here were all ex-military, hired by the development to protect the multi-million dollar estates.

"Miss? Miss, what happened?" A young guard rushed over to help me up.

I grabbed his tactical vest, my voice a jagged mess of sobs. "Im from Number 15. Theres a man... hes in the house. My sister is still inside! Please, you have to go now!"

I expected them to move. I expected sirens and drawn weapons.

Instead, the guards expression shifted. He let go of my arms. "Youre Maddy Beckett? From the Beckett estate?"

I nodded frantically. "Please! Hes hurting her!"

The guard sighed and shook his head. "Miss Beckett, don't you think this is a bit much? Putting on a show like this?"

"What?"

"Mr. Jordan called us a few minutes ago. He told us to expect some... 'dramatic performances' from you today. He said not to leave our posts if you showed up with a fake story."

Jordan?

Jordan Ward. My "fianc." Our families had been close since we were kids. He was supposed to be my protector.

"Its not a story! Look at me! Look at my leg!" I screamed, dropping to my knees. "Please! Just go and check! If Im lying, fire me, sue me, I don't care! Just save my sister!"

The guard looked at my mangled leg, his brow furrowing. He looked at the other guard, who seemed to be wavering. "Maybe we should just take a look"

Before he could finish, a sleek black Porsche pulled up to the gate.

Jordan stepped out of the driver's seat. He walked around to the passenger side and opened the door for a girl in a pristine white silk dress.

Crystal. Valeries daughter.

When she saw mebloody, muddied, and brokenshe gasped and pressed a delicate hand to her mouth. "Maddy? I know you didn't want my mom and your dad to have their anniversary, but isn't this... a little much?"

Jordan looked at me, his eyes full of disappointment. "Look at the state of you, Maddy. You really went all out with the special effects makeup, didn't you?"

"Jordan, listen to me," I rasped. "Your dad told you I was acting, but hes wrong. There is a man in the house with a knife. Zoey is"

"Richard told me everything," Jordan interrupted, his voice cold. "He said you hired actors to stage a kidnapping so hed have to come home. I didn't want to believe youd be this pathetic, but here you are."

The world felt like it was tilting on its axis. "My father told you I hired actors?"

"Yeah." Jordan stepped forward and grabbed my arm to pull me up. His touch, once something I craved, made my skin crawl. "Stop this, Maddy. Youre embarrassing yourself."

I shoved him away, my voice cracking. "I didn't hire anyone! Look at the blood! Its warm, Jordan! Its real!"

I grabbed his hand, trying to make him feel the heat of my injuries, but Crystal stepped in.

"Maddy, did you hire a Hollywood makeup artist? It looks so real. Its actually kind of creepy how far youll go just to be the center of attention."

Something inside me snapped. I reached out and slapped Crystal across her smug, porcelain face.

She stumbled back, sobbing instantly. "Maddy! Why would you"

Jordans face darkened. He shoved me back, letting me fall onto my broken leg. I screamed as the bone shifted.

"That is enough!" Jordan roared, stepping in front of Crystal to shield her. "How am I supposed to marry someone so unstable? So cruel?"

He looked at me with pure disgust. "A woman who represents the Ward family needs to have dignity. You have none. Apologize to Crystal. Now."

I looked at himthe man I had loved since I was sixteen. In my last life, he had stayed with me until he found out Id been 'ruined' by the kidnappers. Then, hed jumped into bed with Crystal the moment she was named heir.

He didn't love me. He loved the status of being a Beckett son-in-law.

I looked at the gate, then back at them. I realized no one was coming.

"I will never apologize to that snake," I spat, my voice low and dangerous. "And I will never marry you. Id rather die."

I dragged myself toward the security office, grabbing a heavy heavy-duty flashlight from the desk. "If you won't save her, I will."

As I tried to limp back to the car, Jordan yelled, "Stop her! Don't let her leave until she settles this!"

The guards grabbed me, forcing me to turn back around.

Jordan walked over, his face a mask of 'righteous' frustration. "Maddy, do you have any idea how fragile Crystals mental health is? She struggles with depression. You can't just lash out at her because youre having a tantrum."

He lowered his voice, trying to sound reasonable. "Just apologize. Then go wash that fake blood off and call your father to tell him youre sorry for ruining his night. We can still fix this."

I let out a scream of pure, unadulterated agony. "Jordan! You are killing her! If anything happens to Zoey, I will spend every cent I have to ruin you!"

He hesitated for a second, seeing the sheer conviction in my eyes.

But Crystal leaned into his side. "Jordan, shes the one who hired the 'kidnapper.' She knows exactly how much 'danger' Zoey is in. She probably told him to be rough to make it look convincing."

That was all it took. The doubt left Jordans eyes. "Shes right."

Crystal gave me a tiny, triumphant smirk from behind Jordans shoulder.

I fell to the ground, the weight of the betrayal crushing the air from my lungs. "Please... its Zoey. Its her life..."

Suddenly, a sharp, wailing siren pierced the air.

Two police cruisers tore past the gate, heading straight for Number 15. Hope flared in my chest. The silent alarm. Theyd finally made it.

Jordans face went pale, but not from concern. "You actually called the cops? Maddy, the paperwork for a false report is going to be a nightmare. Youve gone too far this time."

Ten minutes later, my phone buzzed. It was an unknown number.

I answered, putting it on speaker.

"Is this Madelyn Beckett? This is Sergeant Miller with the State Police. Weve apprehended a suspect at your residence."

Jordan scoffed, looking at the guards. "See? They caught her actor."

The Sergeants voice continued, crackling with grim urgency. "We need an ambulance at your location immediately. Your sister... shes in critical condition. Its a bloodbath in there."

The color drained from Jordans face. The silence that followed was deafening.

"Maddy..." he whispered, his eyes wide with a dawning, horrific realization. "What happened?"