Goodbye, Mr. Regret novel Chapter 331

Phelps emerged from behind a tombstone, leaning heavily on his cane.

And in that instant, Timothy finally understood.

He’d been tricked—lured here by his own father and grandfather.

Fury surged through him as he gripped the sledgehammer in his hand, his knuckles white. He swung the heavy tool, its iron head pointing straight at Naylor. “Was this your doing?” His voice was cold and dangerous.

Naylor, pale and shaken, scurried to Phelps’s side. “Dad, it was your idea! You have to explain to Timothy—it wasn’t all me!”

Phelps’s voice cracked like a whip. “Have you ever been this stupid before? If you were going to leave the hammer, couldn’t you at least have tossed it farther away?”

Naylor stared down at his shoes, unable to meet his father’s eyes or his son’s. He’d always felt caught in the middle—his father, sharp and forceful even in old age, and Timothy, the rising star who’d already outshone them both. Naylor was just… ordinary, stuck between two storms.

Timothy’s chiseled features were shadowed and tense, a vein throbbing at his temple. They were all mad—tampering with his mother’s grave just to lure him back?

Phelps’s voice was low, commanding. “Timothy, let’s go. We need to get back to The Gilded Whisper Estates and settle your divorce with Jessica.”

Timothy’s lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line, his eyes dark as midnight. Without warning, he hurled the sledgehammer away. Naylor flinched, shielding his head, but the hammer landed with a thud right at Phelps and Naylor’s feet.

Pain shot through Timothy’s abdomen—he’d torn open his wound again, staining his white shirt crimson.

Phelps pressed on, voice urgent but weary. “Don’t be reckless, Timothy. You know exactly what you did, don’t you? Jessica is a registered disabled person—she’s in a protected class, and the authorities treat these matters very seriously. Do you really want to destroy The Lawson Group? There are plenty of rivals just waiting for a scandal. If word got out, you’d have a feeding frenzy on your hands. Think about what’s at stake, son.”

Timothy had been raised as the sole heir to The Lawson Group. Responsibility had been drilled into him since childhood—business always came first. All this, over a woman—a woman who couldn’t even speak? Phelps couldn’t understand why Timothy was making such a mess over this.

But what Phelps didn’t expect was for Timothy to walk right up to him, face unreadable, and yank the sledgehammer from the earth. Without hesitation, Timothy hefted it onto his shoulder and strode toward the men blocking his way.

He swung the hammer.

The crowd scattered, falling back in panic, and a clear path opened before him.