My Coldhearted Husband’s Regret

Sabrina scanned the area one final time, her eyes searching every corner for any trace of Veronica. Satisfied that the coast was clear, she linked her arm through Niall's and guided her toward the exit.

Maverick watched their silhouettes disappear into the crowd, already turning to head in the opposite direction when movement in his peripheral vision made him freeze. There, partially concealed behind a decorative pillar, stood Veronica.

His jaw tightened involuntarily.

Every instinct told him to walk away, to pretend he hadn't seen her. But something about her posture, the rigid set of her shoulders, made him pause. Her attention was laser-focused on Niall and Sabrina's retreating forms, and the intensity of her stare sent an uncomfortable chill down his spine.

The coldness in her expression was unmistakable. When her gaze settled on Niall specifically, it carried the kind of hatred typically reserved for sworn enemies. The look was so venomous that Maverick felt his protective instincts flare.

This woman was definitely plotting something against Niall.

He studied Veronica's face carefully, noting the way her lips pressed into a thin line, the way her fingers curled slightly at her sides. Everything about her body language screamed danger. His suspicions solidified into certainty she was still nursing a grudge against Niall, and he couldn't stand by and do nothing.

Maverick strode toward her with purposeful steps.

Veronica had her hands full with purchases from the afternoon shopping trip. Two small potted succulents balanced precariously against several ceramic figurines and glass ornaments that had caught her eye on impulse. Her apartment had felt sterile and unwelcoming lately, more like a temporary shelter than a home, so she'd decided to invest in some decorative touches.

The plant nursery had been her primary destination, but a charming little boutique next door had lured her in with its collection of delicate home accessories. She'd selected a few pieces that spoke to her aesthetic sense, hoping they might help fill the emotional void that seemed to permeate her living space.

She'd been ready to call it a day when fate decided to throw Niall and Sabrina directly into her path once again.

Now, watching Maverick approach with that familiar scowl etched across his features, she braced herself for whatever confrontation he had in mind.

"What exactly are you planning?" Maverick's voice cut through the ambient noise of the shopping center like a blade.

Veronica shifted her packages to get a better grip, raising an eyebrow at his accusatory tone. "Planning for what?"

Maverick's expression hardened further. "She couldn't care less about your existence. You're completely irrelevant to her life, yet here you are, still clinging to some pathetic vendetta. Don't you realize how ridiculous that makes you look?"

"She doesn't care about me?" The temperature in Veronica's voice dropped several degrees. "You certainly have an inflated opinion of your precious Niall, don't you?"

In Maverick's mind, Niall could do no wrong. She was perfection incarnate, deserving of worship and protection from lesser beings like Veronica.

Before he could formulate a response, Veronica pressed on, her tone growing more caustic. "So what's your endgame here? Did you march over here to issue some kind of ultimatum? To threaten me into leaving your goddess alone?"

That had been exactly Maverick's intention, and they both knew it.

Veronica's laugh was sharp and humorless. "How fascinating. Even Cullen hasn't stooped to making direct threats against me. But here you are, Mr. Harris, rushing to play the knight in shining armor. What gives you the authority? Are you harboring some secret obsession with Niall?"

Maverick made no attempt to conceal his feelings. In front of Veronica, there was no point in pretending his admiration for Niall was anything less than complete devotion.

Her mocking words only fueled his anger. "Maybe I should go have a conversation with Mr. Dennis instead. Suggest he keep a closer eye on you."

The memory of that elegant charity gala surfaced unbidden. He could still picture Cullen extending his hand to Veronica, leading her onto the dance floor with that enigmatic smile. Both Maverick and Edric had been convinced it was Cullen's way of delivering a subtle warning, a gentleman's threat wrapped in the guise of social courtesy.

His voice took on a more menacing edge. "Or perhaps you think Cullen's previous warning was too subtle for your comprehension?"

Rather than appearing intimidated, Veronica simply studied him with those penetrating eyes, a hint of amusement flickering in their depths.

The silence stretched between them until she broke it with an unexpected question. "Are you actually Doran Harris's biological son?"

Maverick felt as though she'd slapped him. The question came out of nowhere, catching him completely off guard.

Veronica had encountered Doran Harris on only a handful of occasions, but each interaction had left a lasting impression. The man possessed a rare combination of genuine warmth and commanding presence, the kind of natural leadership that inspired both loyalty and respect. He treated people with dignity regardless of their station, yet commanded attention when he spoke.

Looking at Maverick now, with his petulant expression and emotionally driven behavior, Veronica struggled to see any trace of his father's character. Perhaps romantic obsession had a way of reducing even grown men to irrational shadows of themselves.

Maverick's face flushed with indignation. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Her casual reference to his father unsettled him deeply. The way she spoke suggested familiarity, as though she'd formed her own opinions about Doran Harris. But how could someone like Veronica possibly know anything meaningful about his family?

Veronica didn't bother to elaborate on her observation. Instead, she adjusted her grip on her packages and fixed him with a steady stare. "You want to run to Cullen with your concerns? By all means, go ahead. I'll be right here when you do."

Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked away, her posture straight and confident. She didn't look back once, leaving Maverick standing there with his threats hanging uselessly in the air between them.

The encounter had revealed more about Maverick's character than Veronica's intentions, and they both knew it. His desperation to protect Niall had made him sloppy, emotional, and ultimately ineffective. As Veronica disappeared into the crowd, Maverick was left to wonder whether he'd accomplished anything other than making himself look foolish.

The afternoon sun filtered through the shopping center's skylights, casting long shadows across the polished floors. Maverick remained frozen in place for several moments, replaying the conversation and trying to determine his next move. Veronica's parting words echoed in his mind, carrying an undertone of challenge that made his skin crawl.

Whatever game she was playing, Maverick was certain it would end badly for everyone involved.