His Regret Can No Longer Touch My Heart Chapter 02

That line clearly set Caleb off.

He slammed his hand against the doorframe.

“Hailey, don’t test me.”

I didn’t want to engage. I just wanted to shut the door, but his strength overpowered mine.

Just then, footsteps echoed from the end of the hall.

Delilah approached with a fruit platter.

Seeing us alone together, her eyes instantly reddened.

“Hailey, are you still mad I stole the engagement?”

She teared up, looking pitiful as a wounded rabbit.

“I really didn’t mean to.”

“If you love Caleb, I can step aside.”

“After all, I’m not the Hayes Family’s real Principessa anyway…”

Donna Rachel rushed over at the commotion.

Her face went cold the second she saw the scene.

“Hailey!”

“You just got back, and you’re already stirring up chaos?”

She shielded Delilah behind her, glaring at me like I was a problem.

“Delilah’s health is fragile. She can’t handle any stress!”

“And you’re seducing her fiancé at night? You’re shameless!”

“I didn’t.” My voice stayed dead calm.

“If there’s nothing else, I’d like to rest now.”

I shut the door.

Locking out all their voices.

Outside, Donna Rachel cooed at Delilah.

“Stop crying, baby. Mama will handle everything.”

…

My phone buzzed.

Caleb had wired a massive sum of money.

Then a text followed.

[Bury the past. Keep your mouth shut.]

[I did you a favor once. Don’t force me to destroy you.]

I stared at those words and suddenly let out a laugh.

Right.

He did do me a favor.

Five years ago, the grandmother who raised me fell critically ill.

I’d just gotten my college acceptance letter.

But I had no money for tuition. No money to save her.

Desperate for hospital fees, I took a job at a private club.

One night, a pack of drunk men cornered me in the VIP suite.

Alcohol drenched my body.

My soaked uniform clung to my skin, leaving me practically exposed.

They devoured my curves with their eyes, yanking at my collar.

“How much for a night, sweetheart?”

Their hands reached into my chest as they spoke.

I struggled with everything I had, but couldn’t scream.

Right then, the suite door was kicked open.

Caleb stood there.

Black shirt. Black gloves. A row of guards behind him.

He didn’t even spare the men a second glance.

He just said flatly.

“Cut off the hands that touched her.”

The men’s faces drained white.

I shook uncontrollably.

He took off his coat and wrapped it around my messed-up body.

No comfort. No questions.

Only two words: Need money?

I nodded.

Tears streamed down, mixed with shame.

He handed me a black card.

“Take it.”

“Finish your education.”

“Never come back to a place like this.”

He saved me.

Saved my grandmother.

Pulled me out of the gutter.

Later, he funded my entire college years and visited me often.

Later still, on a rainy night, he stayed over at my tiny rented apartment.

The storm hammered the windows.

He leaned down over me.

Our two shadows tangled on the pale walls.

Our relationship was never innocent again.

Until my grandmother’s final breath.

She held Caleb’s hand and said, “I’m leaving Hailey in your care.”

Caleb nodded.

I believed him.

Five years.

From eighteen to twenty-three, I gave him my best years.

I learned to manage his daily life, memorize his preferences, know exactly where his wound kit was kept.

I learned how to taste wine, read ledgers, treat injuries, and decode mafia jargon—docks, capo, family council.

He told me to wait.

He said his family wanted him to marry a woman of equal standing.

Once he took the Don’s seat and held absolute power over the Moretti Family, he’d claim me publicly. Marry me.

Yesterday, I found out I was pregnant.

Before I could even tell him, the Hayes Family found me.

I thought fate had finally shown me mercy.

Gave me the Principessa title.

Gave me the chance to stand as Caleb’s equal.

But he told me the woman he was marrying had always been Delilah.

And Delilah wasn’t even the Hayes Principessa anymore.

My vision blurred.

I forced a bitter smile and opened my email.

One unread message, sitting there for three days.

A master’s program offer from the Royal College of Art.

I clicked [Accept].

Caleb.

Those five pathetic years. I didn’t want them anymore.

And this child was no longer yours.