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 6
GIANNA
~•~
I lied about visiting my parents.
I felt sick and was going to the hospital. I was still mad at Brandon so I didn't feel like telling him the truth. He would fuss over me and make me forget that I currently hated him for getting his best friend pregnant while we were married.
Brandon's family was very high profile so I had to wear a baseball cap and a pair of sunglasses to avert attention from me. It was very easy for them to make up a story when they saw me entering the hospital.
I pulled over at the parking lot and came down from the car, heading straight inside the building. I didn't have an appointment so I had to wait in line for the available doctor for diagnosis.
I spent almost an hour waiting and throughout then, I was wondering what my life would look like after I divorced Brandon. Definitely, the media would take the news but where would I go from there? I didn't have a job. I had only two friends who were busy with work. How would I even start over? Brandon and I got married immediately after I graduated college. I didn't know how to be a regular adult without him.
I couldn't deny that I still loved him, but he also knew that which was why he was taking advantage of it. In what world did he think it would be okay to get another woman pregnant and I wouldn't be furious? Even worse, it was the woman he kept telling me not to worry about.
I hated Bailey. I hated Brandon. I hated Bernice. I hated that their names all started with B. I felt like the odd one out. They had so many childhood memories together and always made me feel left out. Now I was going to erase myself from the equation completely. I was only twenty-four. I was still young. I could definitely get my life together.
When the person in front of me finally came out from the doctor's office, it was my turn to go in.
I recited all my symptoms to the doctor and the lady stared at me with thin lips.
"Is something very wrong with me?" I panicked when she didn't say anything else.
"When last did you get your period?"
I frowned and tried to think back. We were in the middle of May and I could only remember getting my period in the early days of April. I gasped as I realized I was late.
"Mmhmm," the doctor nodded. "But we have to do a scan to be certain if you're pregnant."
I couldn't be pregnant. Brandon and I weren't trying for a baby. I couldn't be pregnant when I just served him divorce papers. It was impossible!
"Are you sure, doctor? It's not just a fever?"
"We'll find out after the test."
I nodded, scared to do the test. If I was truly pregnant, I didn't know what to do or how to act. Would I tell Brandon even if we would get divorced anyway? Would he beg me to stay? Would he have to be a father to my and Bailey's children? Will my kid be a sibling to Bailey's?
As I contemplated all these and the doctor prepared for a scan, I got a call and was surprised to see that it was from Bernice. Why the hell was she calling me? Did she just find out about me and her brother? What did she have to say? I didn't even want to know. She was one of the primary causes of my problems with her brother. She knew what she was doing whenever she invited Bailey into Brandon's place. She was trying to get them closer. She tried her best to ruin our marriage. Was she calling to gloat?
I ignored the call and put my phone on silent. She called one more time before she resorted to texting.
[Bernice: It's me, Bernice. I'm calling because I know I've caused a strain on you and Brandon's relationship. I don't want to be the reason you leave my brother. Can we meet up?]
I couldn't stop myself from replying.
[Me: meet up for what?]
My words were harsh, but I didn't care. I wouldn't be part of her family anymore so I had no reason to be nice to her, especially when she was usually a bitch to me.
[Bernice: I want us to talk. I don't want you to misunderstand me. Brandon said you aren't home or I would have come over. I'm at the Liberty Hotel, we can meet in the dining area if you want]
I didn't want to go but I was curious to know what she wanted to say. My tongue poked the inside of my cheek as I contemplated my decision. It wouldn't be bad to give her a piece of my mind after all.
[Me: be there in an hour]
[Bernice: alright, I'll be waiting]
"Mrs. Baker, come lie on the bed."
I almost laughed at the name, Mrs. Baker. I'd be going back to Windsor in a few months. It was crazy how my life was about to change. Adding a baby to the mix would be insane.
I held my breath as she raised my top and applied gel to my stomach. The procedure didn't take long and in a few minutes, I was able to find out the results.
"Our suspicions are correct, Ma'am. You're five weeks pregnant."
I gasped even if I already expected that. Life was so fucking cruel! I had two whole years to get pregnant but I didn't. Now that I was about to get divorced... fuck, this was crazy.
I took my test results and left the hospital, going straight to the hotel. I didn't want to go back home. I didn't want to see Brandon. I didn't know how I would face him. I didn't intend to tell him about our child. I wanted him to focus on raising Bailey's child. He couldn't focus on two women at once, could he?
When I got to the dining area of The Liberty Hotel, I saw Bernice already sitting at a table. Clutching my bag that contained my test results, I went to the table.
Her lips quickly formed a smile when she saw me but I didn't bother to return it. "What did you want to talk about?"
"Can we get something to drink first? Is wine okay with you?"
I subconsciously touched my stomach. Even if I never planned for a child at the moment, I wasn't going to kill them with alcohol. Besides, alcohol was the same reason Brandon was going to be a dad to another woman's child. I was going to avoid that shit for the rest of my life. "Juice is fine."
She nodded. "I'll go get it."
I watched her as she went to the counter, ordered a jug of orange juice and two glasses, and set them in front of me. She poured the juice into both glasses and allowed me to take a sip before she started speaking.
"I know things have been weird between you and Brandon, especially after the bomb Bailey dropped."
I rolled my eyes. Was that what she called me to talk about?
"Hear me out, hear me out." She pleaded when she saw my expression. "Things have been weird between both of you and I've been adding to it. I wanted to apologize for that. I know you're insecure about Bailey but I still bring her around. I'm sorry."
Insecure? She was acting like I complained for nothing. I felt like blowing up on her but I didn't want to cause a scene so I just took a gulp of my juice to calm myself down. "What am I supposed to do with your apology? The deed has been done already."
"But that doesn't have to affect your marriage. A lot of women are single moms these days. There's no shame in that. I'm sure Bailey wouldn't mind being a single mom. Brandon can provide for the child but he'll still be with you."
I bit the inside of my cheek as I stared at her. I was already tired and I wanted to leave. "Did Brandon send you here?" He was reluctant to sign the papers so I wouldn't put it past him. Besides, Bernice wasn't the type to apologize without being pressured to do so.
"Of course not. He's mad at me at the moment, but I just thought of helping him by speaking with you."
I shook my head. There was no need to come here. It was a complete waste of time. "It's too late to help," I said as I stood up, feeling extremely tired all of a sudden. "Like I said, the damage has already been done."
I tried to walk away but my legs gave out beneath me and soon, I found myself falling over.
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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.