Broken And Betrayed: A Billionaire's Regret
My ten-year contract marriage was over. I had saved my sister's life by playing wife to a billionaire and mother to his two sons. Today, I was finally free.
But at my stepson's birthday party, my public execution began when a deepfake porn video starring my face was broadcast to all of New York's elite.
Then, my husband's ex-wife, Carolina, orchestrated my downfall. She stabbed herself and blamed me. The boys I raised screamed that I was a monster. And my husband, Justin, believing her lies, beat me so brutally that I miscarried the child I never knew I was carrying.
He chose her. He chose the lie. He let our child die.
But his mother, the woman who orchestrated our marriage, saved me. Months later, my ex-husband and stepsons found me in LA, crying and begging me to come home. I looked at the men who destroyed me and smiled.
"No," I said calmly. "I don't need you anymore."
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Chapter 6
Alex Bennett POV:
Justin stood in the doorway, his face a mask of pure, unadulterated rage. Beckham and Bertram flanked him, their expressions mirroring their father' s hatred. They looked like a pack of wolves, cornering their prey.
My heart didn't just leap into my throat; it felt like it stopped beating altogether.
Before I could form a word, Justin crossed the room in two long strides. His voice was the blow, each word a carefully weighted stone meant to shatter me.
"I am so disappointed in you, Alex," he snarled, his voice a low, dangerous growl. "I thought you were better than this. I thought you had a heart. But you have a void where your heart should be."
He stood over me, his presence suffocating. His words were more painful than any physical strike. "I loved the wrong person," he whispered. "It should never have been you."
My head throbbed. "What... what are you talking about?" I managed to choke out.
Beckham stepped forward, his fists clenched at his sides. His eyes were red-rimmed, glistening with tears of rage. "Don't play innocent," he spat. "We're done with you! I never want to see you again! You are not my mother!"
Bertram was openly sobbing, his body shaking. "You hurt Mom!" he wailed, pointing a trembling finger at me. "She's hurt! Because of you! She has a huge burn on her shoulder now!"
Burn? Hurt? My mind scrambled to make sense of their words. I was the one on the floor, my head aching, my ankle throbbing. What were they talking about?
Justin's face contorted in disgust. "Still pretending? You think we didn't see? You think we don't know what you did?"
His voice was a command, sharp and cold, and I found myself compelled to follow him out of the bedroom and down the hall to the guest suite where Carolina was staying.
He pushed the door open, and I stumbled into the room.
Carolina was sitting on the edge of the bed. She looked up, her blue eyes wide and red-rimmed. A thick gauze bandage was wrapped around her shoulder.
"Alex," she whispered, her voice a fragile, broken thing. "I don't understand. I never wanted to take your place. I just wanted to be with my boys. Why would you… why would you do this to me?"
My blood ran cold.
I saw it then, the whole ugly tableau. This was her final, checkmate move. A perfectly staged accident.
She leaned forward, her face close to mine, her voice dropping to a vicious whisper that only I could hear. "I told you I'd win. Now you get to watch what it's like to be loved. Something you'll never know."
She then let out a pained cry, clutching her bandaged shoulder, her performance for the benefit of the three furious men behind me flawless.
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