My billionaire ex-husband wants me back
Gianna Windsor and Brandon Baker have been married for two and a half years. Since it was an arranged marriage, Gianna accepted the fact that Brandon would never love her, but she was satisfied with the respect and care he showed her.
That was until Brandon's best friend, Bailey, announced her pregnancy with his baby.
The bubble Ginanna had created for herself shattered and she had no choice but to divorce him and make room for the child. A few weeks after leaving, she finds out she's pregnant as well.
When Brandon sees a child that resembles him a few years later, he is determined to get back in Gianna's life and take care of her and their child. Will Gianna allow him back into her life? Will she fall for him again?
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Chapter 5
BRANDON
~•~
"You don't mean this, do you?" I stood up from the bed and approached her slowly. "You're just venting, right?"
"Brandon..." she sighed.
"I am not signing these papers, Gianna. Absolutely not."
"What is that supposed to mean?" She asked, folding her arms across her chest, unintentionally drawing my attention there.
"Let's sit down and talk about this first, then we can come to a conclusion. We can't just part ways like this." I knew I fucked up. I admitted that, but I didn't know how to show her my sincerity. I never wanted to sleep with Bailey. We were just friends, nothing more.
Bailey and I had been friends since we were born because our parents were friends. While growing up, there were talks that we were going to get married, but I didn't see her in that light. She also didn't like me and later on, my father had a bright idea to use my marriage as a collaboration between two companies which was how I ended up with Gianna.
I didn't know Gianna before we got engaged, but I quickly warmed up to the idea. She was a nice woman and she had a kind heart. Her only fault was her insecurity and my stupid *ss self just played into it, proving her suspicions right.
"What else do you expect me to do, Brandon!" She cried out. "Sit at home with you while you raise another woman's child?"
It was crazy. I knew that, but that didn't mean I could let her go just like that. "You should have at least spoken to me before you prepared these."
"Yeah, the way you did before you fucked another woman and got her pregnant."
I gritted my teeth. I knew it wouldn't be easy but I thought we were past that already. She had agreed to forget about it. Why was she still bringing it up? I didn't do it on purpose. Why was that so hard to understand?
"Gianna–"
"Don't." She shook her head, stopping me from saying anything. It wasn't like I had an excuse anyway.
The facts were there, laid bare in front of us. I disrespected our marriage and got another woman pregnant. It was normal for her to want to leave, but the problem was I didn't want her to leave. I couldn't let her leave.
"What about our reputation?" Everything we did was scrutinized by the public and it would only take one event without her presence for them to know that something was wrong. The bad publicity was going to affect our stock prices and our parents were going to scold us for it. My company was just a branch of my father's but it was going to get affected anyway.
"It's going to be ruined anyway when they find out there's another woman." She sounded resigned, like she was tired of dealing with me. I didn't know how to feel about that. I had been good to her for the past two years. I didn't expect one mistake to ruin all that we had built together. "It's better to get it over with and leave with a clean cut."
"I'm not signing them," I concluded, shaking my head. I didn't know where we would go from here, but I wasn't signing the damn papers.
"I've already signed them." She informed me. "I just need your signature for this to be over."
I opened the next page of the file and truly, her signature was already there. I felt my chest tighten and I took a step back. Gianna was the sweetest woman on earth, but this action told me that she was truly done with me.
"It's not going to be over anytime soon." I closed the file and placed it on the bed. "I'll figure something out but we're not separating."
I didn't know exactly why I was adamant about not leaving her, but I knew I didn't want to so I wouldn't. It was that easy.
"Brandon, don't make this harder than it needs to be."
"No." That was final. "I'm not signing them. I'm going to shower and go to work. When I come back, we'll sit down like adults and talk about this issue. Then, we'll figure something out. Something that doesn't include you leaving this house."
She opened her mouth to oppose me but I didn't wait to hear what she had to say before I went into the bathroom.
My shower was longer than it usually was because I was thinking a lot even if none of my thoughts were making sense. Bailey, the woman I grew up with, was pregnant for me. Gianna, my wife, wanted to leave me even if I didn't cheat on her on purpose.
I knew I wanted Gianna to stay, but I didn't know what to do about Bailey. Telling her to abort the child would be outrageous, but that was the only way Gianna was going to stay. Then again, I didn't have the heart to suggest that. A life was growing inside of her and she wouldn't want to kill it neither would I.
I didn't want a child just yet, which was why Gianna hadn't conceived yet. We had planned to wait a few more years before bringing a child into this world. I never expected to have a child sooner than I wanted and that left me confused.
When I came out of the bathroom, the divorce papers had been placed on the nightstand, along with a note.
'I'm going to visit my parents. Sign them before I get back. Thank you'
I sucked on my teeth. She was pushing for a divorce. I wanted us to stay together. How the hell were we going to find a middle ground?
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8.7
"I hate you, Aiden! I hate you! And trust me... you'll never find anyone who'll love you the way I did."
Tears streamed down Charlotte Parker's face as she stormed into her room, packing the last pieces of her broken heart. This time, I knew I'd messed up. And there was no going back.
Charlotte Parker is a kind, beautiful, and well-mannered 22-year-old with dreams of becoming a popular writer. But life has other plans. With her family struggling, she's forced to step up... whether she's ready or not.
Aiden Kingston, on the other hand, is everything she can't stand. Arrogant. Rude. A notorious playboy. And the cold-hearted CEO of a million-dollar company. For Aiden, keeping his inheritance means one thing: marriage. Fast.
Both blindsided by an arranged marriage neither of them asked for, their worlds collide in the most chaotic way. Charlotte is water, soft but strong. Aiden is fire, uncontrolled and burning through everything in his path.
But Aiden has a secret. One that could destroy whatever fragile peace they're trying to build.
Will he let his walls down for her?
Can Charlotte see past his mistakes and frozen heart?
Or will the hatred between them grow so deep it consumes them both... for good?
8.7
I spent three years building my husband, Axel Farrell, into Silicon Valley's ultimate "family man." As his lead PR strategist, I carefully managed his public image, making sure the world saw him as a perfect, devoted husband while I worked in the shadows of our estate.
The illusion shattered when he came home one night smelling of sandalwood and roses, with three deep fingernail scratches carved into his back. When I tried to check his phone, the passcode we had used for years-our wedding anniversary-had been changed.
The betrayal got worse the next morning when his mother called me a "defective product" and tried to force me into a fertility clinic. Axel didn't defend me; instead, he shoved me against a marble bar at a public gala to protect his mistress in front of the world's elite. By the time I tried to leave, Axel had frozen my bank accounts and filed a forged legal petition to have me declared mentally incompetent.
He planned to have me legally kidnapped and locked in a private psychiatric ward just to stop me from filing for divorce. He even blocked every major law firm in the city from taking my case, leaving me with no money, no identity, and no one to turn to.
I couldn't understand how the man who "saved" me from the mud years ago could be the same monster now trying to legally erase my existence. Was our entire marriage just a grooming process to exploit my genius for his billion-dollar empire?
As the deadline for my forced commitment approached, I stopped crying and opened my laptop. I leaked the video of his affair to every tech journalist in the country, watching his stock price crash in real-time.
"Axel thinks starving me out will make me crawl back to him," I whispered as I walked into the headquarters of his biggest rival.
"But he forgot that the most valuable part of his company is in my head."
I was no longer the abandoned wife; I was the one who was going to take his throne and burn it to the ground.
8.7
To escape my toxic ex-fiancé and the father who froze my assets, I entered a contract marriage with Barrett, a cold but protective corporate consultant.
I thought he was my safe harbor. I even confided my secret, ruthless strategy to take back control of my company from my ex.
But at the most critical board meeting, a mysterious new chairman dialed in.
The synthesized voice coming through the speakerphone systematically dismantled the board and took over the company, using the exact, word-for-word strategy I had only ever whispered to my husband in the dead of night.
My ex-fiancé turned pale with panic. The board members were stunned into silence.
And I sat there, my blood running completely cold.
The man who had held my hand in the hospital, who had slept in my bed, and who had promised to protect me, had just committed the ultimate corporate espionage.
Every tender touch, every late-night confession—was it all just a calculated move to steal my life's work? How could the only person who made me feel safe use my deepest vulnerabilities to orchestrate my ruin?
I packed up my files, walked straight out of that boardroom, and prepared to disappear from his life forever.
But when I fled to my best friend's apartment to hide, I looked out the window.
The ruthless mastermind who had just stolen my empire was standing completely still in the freezing downpour, waiting for me to come down.
9.1
For ten years, Ran hid in the shadows as Hollywood star Jincheng Lu's secret girlfriend and assistant, starving herself to pay for his acting classes.
On their tenth anniversary, she sat in a cheap apartment with $9.87 in her bank account, watching him slide a massive diamond ring onto a wealthy heiress's finger on live television.
When she called the number she had memorized for a decade, she only heard a cold busy tone. He had blocked her.
Despair swallowed her whole. She forced down a handful of sleeping pills with stale whiskey and died alone on the cold bathroom tiles.
His mother found her rotting body three days later, calling her a "filthy bottom-feeder" before ordering a cleanup crew to dispose of her existence like industrial waste.
Jincheng didn't even ask if she suffered. He just ordered his PR team to digitally erase her ten years of sacrifice from the internet.
"Make sure the press release is airtight. She was an unstable former assistant. She had a history of mental illness. That's it."
Until her heart stopped completely, she didn't understand. She had abandoned her status as the hidden heiress of the wealthy Qin family to build his empire from the ground up.
How could he erase every trace of her without a second thought, using her corpse as a PR shield for his perfect new life?
Opening her eyes again, the sharp smell of hospital antiseptic burned her lungs.
She hadn't just died. She had woken up in the body of a notorious, D-list reality TV influencer who shared her exact name.
Looking at her new face in the mirror, a cold smile spread across her lips. She was going to tear his perfect life apart, piece by bloody piece.
7.2
My family arranged my marriage to Silas Thorne, a Wall Street titan. There was just one problem: everyone, including my powerful new husband, believed I was a crippled, helpless girl from the countryside.
On the day of my physical therapy, my father called, not to ask how I was, but to demand I give up the marriage for his illegitimate daughter, Chloe.
"You can barely walk without a limp," he sneered. "You are going to embarrass the Vance family."
My new husband treated me with cold duty, carrying me like a fragile doll but refusing to share a bed, citing my ‘soft tissue injury’ as a pathetic excuse. The rejection was humiliating. To make matters worse, Chloe tracked me down while I was shopping, eager to mock me in public.
"Silas doesn't value you," she said, flashing a cheap ring from my father. "You’re just a crippled placeholder."
They all saw a weak girl they could push around, completely blind to the fact that my limp was a carefully crafted lie.
So I took the unlimited black card Silas gave me and bought a fifty-seven-million-dollar pink diamond, crushing her in front of New York’s elite. When I returned to our penthouse, Silas was waiting for me, a dangerous smirk on his face.
"I heard," he said, his voice a low rumble, "that you bought a star with my money today?"
8.7
I woke up in a luxury penthouse with a blinding headache and bruises on my thighs, staring at the man who was about to ruin my life. Cullen Hunter, the most dangerous billionaire in Los Angeles, was stepping out of the shower, ready to discard me with a signed check and a cold look of disdain.
Then the memories hit me like a physical blow. I realized I had woken up in the "Death Flag" scene of a script—this was the exact morning Avery Hall was supposed to be kicked out, humiliated, and started her downward spiral into a tragic death.
The nightmare escalated within minutes. My own brother, Ernest, called to tell me I was no longer a member of the family, freezing my trust fund and evicting me from my apartment. He believed the lies of our "perfect" adopted sister, Cheslie, who had leaked her own private photos and framed me for it just to gain sympathy. Even my fiancé, Preston, couldn't wait to dump me in public, calling me a "crazy bitch" before running straight into Cheslie’s waiting arms.
I was suddenly homeless, bankrupt, and the most hated woman in the city. My family wanted me to crawl back and apologize on my knees for a crime I didn't commit, while the man I had just spent the night with watched my destruction with boredom.
I didn't understand how they could all turn on me so fast, or how I was expected to survive in a world where the script was literally written for my failure.
"Avery, don't make this difficult," Cullen warned, waiting for the tears he thought were coming.
But I refused to play the victim. I pulled three hundred dollars of my last bits of cash, slapped them onto Cullen’s nightstand, and told him the service was mediocre. I wasn't going to beg for love or mercy anymore; I was going to rewrite the ending of this story and become the most dangerous femme fatale Hollywood had ever seen.