Your Tears Were Too Late_Katharine Lopez died in prison—betrayed by the man she loved, Remington Cohen, who once vowed to protect her. Accused of harming another woman, she was drained of blood to save Remington’s beloved Fernanda and left to die in silence. A year later, Remington storms into the prison, demanding her bone marrow for Fernanda. When the warden tells him Katharine is dead, he laughs in disbelief—until he sees her death certificate, a pregnancy test, and half an emerald pendant, the same one he once carried. Only then does he realize the truth too late: the woman he destroyed had been the one who saved his life, loved him unconditionally, and carried his child. Now, all that remains of Katharine is regret—and the haunting proof of a love he turned into ruin.

Your Tears Were Too Late

Alice. O

8 k word

final

Introduction

Katharine Lopez died in prison—betrayed by the man she loved, Remington Cohen, who once vowed to protect her. Accused of harming another woman, she was drained of blood to save Remington’s beloved Fernanda and left to die in silence. A year later, Remington storms into the prison, demanding her bone marrow for Fernanda. When the warden tells him Katharine is dead, he laughs in disbelief—until he sees her death certificate, a pregnancy test, and half an emerald pendant, the same one he once carried. Only then does he realize the truth too late: the woman he destroyed had been the one who saved his life, loved him unconditionally, and carried his child. Now, all that remains of Katharine is regret—and the haunting proof of a love he turned into ruin.

Preview

Chapter 1

Two months after Remington Cohen put me behind bars, I died.

With nowhere to go, my soul lingered inside the Cohen's mansion.

"Stay right there. I'm coming to you."

In the study, Remington's voice dripped with honey as he soothed the woman on the other end of the line.

He was dressed impeccably in a tailored suit, one hand resting gracefully on the desk.

The boy who once toiled on construction sites, gnawing on stale bread between shifts, had transformed into the most powerful big shot in Chicago.

Moments later, he hung up, slipped on his coat, and strode out.

I drifted after him.

The car purred to a stop outside a private art studio.

As Remington pushed open the door, Fernanda Lopez was struggling to rise from her wheelchair—only to collapse back with a cry.

Tears shimmered in her doe-like eyes as she gazed up at him. "Remy... am I never going to dance again?"

Remington crossed the room and carefully lifted her back into the chair. "It's my fault. If I hadn't let

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