Divorced and Betrayed: The Billionaire's Regret
I walked away from a billionaire husband who betrayed me with my best friend-divorced, pregnant with twins, and determined never to look back.
But Ethan Harrington doesn't know how to lose.
Years later, he's sober, broken, and begging for scraps of time with our children. Supervised visits. Two hours a month. Steel boundaries.
I thought revenge would feel sweeter.
Instead, I found Damian Black-dangerous, devoted, scarred by his own shadows-and built a new empire from the ashes of the old one.
Now I'm carrying his child.
Our daughter.
But when Ethan's redemption starts looking too real, and old secrets threaten to unravel everything I've fought for...
Will I finally close the door on my past?
Or will one last betrayal force me to choose between the family I chose and the one that was forced on me?
Betrayal. Divorce. Secret babies. Second chances. Revenge. A kickass heroine rising from ruin.
And a love that refuses to stay buried.
Chapters
Share
Chapter 2
The first snow of the season dusted Chicago like powdered sugar on a bitter cake. I watched it fall from the narrow balcony of my Wrigleyville apartment, one hand cradling the swell of my belly, the other wrapped around a mug of chamomile that had gone cold an hour ago. Ava and Noah were active tonight-little kicks like they were practicing soccer drills in there. Every thump reminded me why I'd walked away. Not just for me. For them.
Three months since the divorce papers dried. Three months since Ethan's signature-shaky, almost childish-had freed me. Or so I'd thought. Freedom tasted like takeout Chinese and freelance deadlines, not champagne and private jets. But it was honest. No more pretending I didn't smell another woman's perfume on his collar. No more smiling through gritted teeth while Serena texted him heart emojis right under my nose.
My phone buzzed on the wrought-iron railing. Unknown number. I almost ignored it, but curiosity-or maybe masochism-won.
"Elena." Ethan's voice, rough like he'd been drinking. "Don't hang up."
I didn't. Not yet. "What do you want, Ethan?"
"I saw the news. Langston Tech's new lead designer. You? With Victor fucking Langston?" A bitter laugh. "Of all people."
"He's a good boss. Pays on time. Doesn't cheat." The words slipped out sharper than I meant. I heard him suck in a breath.
"I deserve that. But listen-Serena's gone. I ended it. The whole thing was... I was stupid. Scared. The pressure, the board breathing down my neck-"
"Save it." I cut him off. "You weren't scared. You were bored. And I was the safe choice until I wasn't shiny anymore."
Silence stretched. Then, softer: "Are you really pregnant? With... mine?"
My free hand tightened on the mug. "Yes. Twins. But they're mine now. You signed away any claim when you walked out that door."
"I didn't know-"
"You didn't ask." I let the accusation hang. "You were too busy in Room 1502."
He cursed under his breath. "I want to see you. Talk. Please. I'm coming to Chicago next week for a merger meeting. Let me-"
"No." My voice cracked just a little. Damn hormones. "Stay in New York. Stay away."
I hung up before he could argue. The phone trembled in my hand. I set the mug down hard enough that tea sloshed over the edge, freezing instantly on the metal.
Inside, I sank onto the couch, pulling a throw blanket over my legs. The apartment smelled like fresh paint and baby powder-Mia had helped me set up the nursery last weekend. Two cribs side by side, tiny mobiles spinning with stars. It felt real now. Terrifyingly real.
Sleep wouldn't come. Instead, memories did. Our first date: Ethan in a tailored suit, nervous, ordering the wrong wine because he thought I'd like it fancy. The way he'd laughed when I corrected him, not offended, just charmed. "Teach me," he'd said. "I want to know everything about you."
Lies. All of it.
The next morning, snow had piled up overnight. I bundled into layers-coat straining over the bump-and trudged to the office. Langston Tech occupied a sleek glass tower downtown, all chrome and ambition. Victor's assistant waved me through without a word. He was waiting in his corner office, feet up on the desk, scrolling through his tablet.
"You're late," he grunted, not looking up.
"Traffic. And contractions practice runs." I dropped into the chair opposite. "What's the crisis?"
He slid a folder across. "Harrington's bleeding cash. SEC investigation widened. They're desperate. Word is they're shopping for a white knight-or a buyer."
My pulse kicked. "And?"
"And I want it. All of it. But I need leverage. You were married to the man for three years. You saw things. Heard things."
I opened the folder. Emails. Wire transfers. Names I recognized from late-night conversations Ethan thought I wasn't paying attention to. Offshore accounts. Shell companies. One transfer stood out-half a million to an account tied to Serena's "marketing consultancy."
"I have more," I said quietly. "On a drive. Proof he used company funds for... personal expenses."
Victor's eyes sharpened. "How much more?"
"Enough to bury him."
He leaned forward. "Then bury him. Anonymously, of course. I'll handle the acquisition after the stock tanks."
Revenge shouldn't taste sweet. But it did. Like the first sip of coffee after months of decaf.
That afternoon, I met with my lawyer again-Mark flew in from New York. We sat in a quiet coffee shop near Millennium Park, snow swirling outside the windows.
"You're sure about this?" he asked, stirring his latte. "Whistleblowing could drag you into depositions. Media circus."
"I'm already in the circus," I muttered. "Might as well be the ringmaster."
He nodded. "I'll route it through a third party. No trace back to you."
"Good."
As he left, my phone lit up again. Text this time. Ethan.
I know you're angry. But those babies are half me. I want to be there. Doctor appointments. Birth. Everything.
I stared at the words until they blurred. Part of me-the stupid, soft part-remembered how he'd held me after my parents' funeral, whispering promises. The rest of me remembered the red dress photo. The hotel key card. The way Serena had smiled at our wedding like she was already planning the sequel.
I typed back: You lost the right to "everything" the night you chose her.
Blocked. Again.
The weeks blurred after that. Work consumed me-pitching campaigns, landing clients who actually valued my brain. My bump grew impossible to hide under blazers. Colleagues started calling me "Mama Boss." I pretended it didn't make me tear up in the bathroom.
Then came the gala.
Victor insisted I attend. "Networking," he said. "Show the city you're not hiding."
I bought the dress on impulse-deep sapphire, off-the-shoulder, clinging in ways that screamed confidence instead of hiding the pregnancy. My hair in loose waves, minimal makeup. For once, I looked in the mirror and didn't see the broken wife. I saw Elena Voss. Survivor.
The venue was the Art Institute-crystal chandeliers, jazz floating over murmured deals. Victor introduced me to everyone worth knowing. I smiled, shook hands, ignored the whispers: "That's Harrington's ex." "Pregnant already?" "Bold move."
Then I saw him.
Ethan, across the room in black tie, looking thinner, eyes shadowed. Serena wasn't with him-she'd probably slunk away when the scandal hit. He spotted me instantly. His glass froze halfway to his mouth.
I turned away, accepting a flute of sparkling water from a waiter. Victor leaned in. "You good?"
"Perfect."
But Ethan crossed the floor like a man possessed. "Elena."
Heads turned. I kept my voice cool. "Mr. Harrington."
"Don't." He stepped closer, voice low. "I flew here for you. I need to explain-"
"Explain what? How you funded your affair with company money? How you called me distant while you were balls-deep in my best friend?"
His face crumpled. "I fucked up. Royally. But those kids-"
"Are mine." I placed a protective hand over my belly. "You don't get to swoop in now because the consequences finally landed."
"Please." His hand reached out, then dropped. "I love you. I never stopped."
The words hit like a slap. Once, they'd been everything. Now they were ash.
I met his eyes. "Love doesn't cheat. Love doesn't lie. Love doesn't sign divorce papers and then beg when the empire crumbles."
Victor appeared at my side, arm sliding around my waist in a casual, possessive claim. "Everything alright here?"
Ethan's gaze flicked to him, then back to me. Rage. Regret. Something darker.
"Stay away from her," Victor said mildly. "Or the next merger won't be the only thing I take from you."
Ethan backed off, jaw tight. But his eyes lingered on my stomach. On what he'd lost.
Later, on the balcony overlooking the snowy city, Victor handed me a coat. "You handled that like a queen."
"I felt like throwing up."
He chuckled. "That's the twins talking."
We stood in silence for a while. Snowflakes caught in my lashes.
"You know," he said quietly, "I hired you to piss Ethan off. But you're damn good at this. Better than good."
I glanced at him. Older, scarred from his own wars. Not handsome in the polished way Ethan was-rougher, realer.
"Thank you," I whispered. "For the chance."
"Don't thank me yet." He smirked. "We're just getting started."
Back inside, I danced with a few investors, laughed at their jokes, felt eyes on me-some admiring, some calculating. Ethan watched from the shadows, nursing a drink he probably didn't taste.
When the night ended, Victor drove me home. No pressure, no expectations. Just quiet.
At my door, he paused. "If he comes near you again-"
"I'll handle it." I smiled, small but genuine. "But thanks."
He nodded. "Get some rest, Mama Boss."
Inside, I kicked off my heels, rubbed my belly. The twins settled, as if sensing the storm had passed-for now.
But I knew better. Ethan wasn't done. And neither was I.
The past had echoes, alright. But I was rewriting the ending.
One furious, fabulous chapter at a time.
You may also like
7.0
On her wedding night, Liora Vale expected passion from her wealthy husband. Instead, she got rejection and humiliation.
When his dangerously seductive best friend, Kael Draven, corners her on the balcony and claims her virgin body with raw, unprotected fury, Liora discovers a pleasure she never knew existed.
Now addicted to Kael's brutal touch and filthy promises, the once-innocent bride becomes his secret slut, sneaking creampies in limos, riding him at galas, and begging to be bred while her husband sleeps nearby.
Kael won't stop until he destroys Silas and fills Liora's womb with his child.
She was supposed to be the perfect wife... now she's the shameless breeding whore who belongs only to him.
8.4
Evelyn Rowe never thought she could survive Victor Blackthorn nor his fists, especially since her unborn baby didn't.
But what she didn't expect was to be saved by Dominic Russo, after being publicly blamed for her miscarriage and humiliated in front of the world.
Finally finding the strength to divorce Victor, and the path to become the independent woman she always wanted to be, Evelyn becomes unstoppable.
What no one expects is for three dangerous men to claim her: the heir apparent to the British throne, the billionaire who rules the corporate world, and a mafia lord who bows to no one.
They were enemies at first, but for her, they became lovers.
And when her ex-husband finally realizes what he destroyed, she already belongs to kings who would do everything in their power to keep her.
8.9
Ellie Carter was already losing everything.
Seven days from eviction. No money. No safety net. Life had been unraveling for so long that survival alone felt like the only plan she had. Until she collided with Todd Blackwood-a billionaire CEO who doesn't rescue anyone. He owns outcomes, not hearts. And yet, when fate threw her into his orbit, Ellie realized she had entered a battlefield where every choice mattered-and every misstep could cost far more than she ever imagined.
What started as a contract became a war. Todd's dangerous ex-fiancée returned, armed with secrets designed to destroy them both, and the rules that were meant to protect Ellie turned into weapons against her. Survival alone was no longer enough. Ellie had to navigate power without losing herself, desire without surrendering, and trust without being destroyed.
Todd had built an empire on precision and control, but Ellie challenged him in ways that were infuriating and exhilarating. She could not be manipulated, and he could not dictate the outcome. Their connection became a dangerous dance where love and strategy collided-and where falling for each other could be the deadliest move of all.
As betrayal and temptation tested them, Ellie discovered that victory came not from submission, but from mastery. Every choice shifted alliances, every secret had consequences, and every move demanded courage. Todd was constant in ways few could be, and Ellie learned that strength could be shared without surrendering.
In a world where power and love are weapons, Ellie must decide how far she will go to protect herself, her family, and the life she has fought to reclaim. When the dust settles, only one truth remains: nothing worth having is ever given-it must be earned, defended, and chosen.
9.0
I spent five years acting as the perfect, invisible caretaker for my wealthy family, meticulously managing their health and social standing while they treated me like a ghost.
Then, my nightmare became reality when my brother Alon shoved me out of bed, forcing me to apologize to our adopted sister, Fallon, for a jealousy I never felt.
My parents and brother stood over me, their eyes filled with unfiltered disgust, demanding I play the servant to a girl who was actively plotting my social destruction.
They froze my accounts, stripped me of my dignity, and mocked my existence, fully expecting me to crawl back to them in tears like I did in my other, broken life.
I stared at their entitled faces, feeling a cold, sharp clarity wash over me; they were so obsessed with status that they didn't realize they had just handed the keys to their own ruin to a complete amateur.
Why was I still playing the martyr for people who would watch me burn without blinking?
I stood up, walked away from their chaos, and cut the final tie, leaving them to face the ruthless social elite with a liability they couldn't control.
9.6
I was the "little bird" of the Carlson empire, living a comfortable but caged life under the thumb of my guardian, Francis. To the world, Christ Carlson was the cold, untouchable machine who ran the family business, a man I called "Uncle" but who treated me like a ghost in the hallway.
One drunken night in Las Vegas, desperate to finally "poke the bear" and feel alive, I leaned into his shadows and whispered a dare that would ruin me. I asked the most terrifying man I knew if he dared to marry me right then and there.
He didn't laugh. He stood up, dragged me to a tacky chapel, and forced a massive diamond onto my finger with a grip like iron. The "asexual" machine everyone feared turned into a predator the moment we reached his penthouse, claiming me with a bruising intensity that left me breathless and broken.
By morning, I was trapped in a living nightmare. Christ forced me to hide the marriage, demanding I play the part of the dutiful niece while he owned me in the shadows. He replaced my ripped clothes with thousands of dollars in designer silk, essentially buying my silence and my body in one cold transaction.
Now, I’m back at the family estate, hiding a five-carat ring on a chain under my shirt and praying Francis doesn't see the marks on my neck. I thought I was being rebellious, but I didn't realize Christ Carlson had been waiting for me to walk into his trap for years.
I am legally his, physically his, and he has no intention of ever letting me go. Every time he looks at me, I feel the cage door slamming shut, realizing I’ve traded a guardian who ignores me for a husband who wants to dismantle me piece by piece.
At breakfast, Christ pressed his shoe firmly against my inner thigh under the table, his gaze locked on mine while he discussed my future with Francis.
"I think it's time we found her a match," Christ said, his voice a lethal, calm purr.
"I was thinking of keeping her in the family."
8.3
I woke up in a freezing alley, my lungs burning and my body shattered. I wasn't just a dying Appalachian girl; I was an ancient soul trapped in a broken human shell, starving for life force.
A bulletproof Maybach idled nearby, and the man inside, Cristofer Barrett, radiated an intoxicating wave of dark energy. Driven by primal survival, I lunged at him and forced a kiss, stealing his cursed power to knit my bones back together.
But my nightmare was far from over. I was dragged into the Montoya estate, a den of vipers where my "family" viewed me as a disposable tool for a corporate merger. My sister, Jordin, orchestrated a vicious campaign to humiliate me, even sabotaging my dress to ensure my ruin at the upcoming Hubbard gala.
I was treated like a stray dog, beaten, and mocked by those who claimed my blood. They didn't realize that the girl they were torturing had already seen through their lies, their secret assassinations, and their pathetic greed.
They thought I was a fragile victim, but they had no idea who they were dealing with. I had the power of a legend, a mind for high-stakes manipulation, and an old score to settle. Tonight, at the gala, I wouldn't just show up—I would tear their perfect world apart.