Never Yours Again: Too Late To Chase Me Back, Mr. CEO!
Ever since Ryan took her in, Kailey had tried to be sensible and pleasing, shaping herself around his moods.
He'd raised her, but she never saw him as family; she'd been sure they'd end up together.
On the day she turned twenty, ready to confess her feelings again, his beloved woman came back.
Kailey overheard, "Kailey is just a kid to me; I could never look at her that way. The only person I love is Olivia."
She walked away, and Ryan fell apart.
Later, at her wedding, Kailey smiled in white. Ryan pleaded, "I regret it, Kailey. Please don't marry him."
Calmly, she said, "Can you let go? My groom won't appreciate it."
Chapters
Share
Chapter 3
Ryan's eyes were cold and unyielding, freezing Kailey in place, unable to utter a single word.
Pain radiated from her bruised side, but all she could do was watch in silence as he gently picked Olivia up and carried her away, leaving her behind.
Hot tears spilled down her cheeks before she realized it, and Kailey could only sniffle, rooted to the spot and unable to move.
Not long after, the distant sound of the front door swinging open broke the silence.
The cleaning lady arrived, humming to herself as she made her way toward the dining room. The cheerful tune stopped short when she saw Kailey. "Kailey, what happened? Why are you crying like this?"
That simple question undid her last bit of composure. Kailey's words came out shaky. "Can you help me? My side hurts so much."
The woman wasted no time. She called the property manager for a car and quickly took Kailey to the nearest hospital.
After a full round of tests, the results brought a small sense of relief—nothing serious had been damaged.
"Try to avoid bumping your waist for a while, and remember to use the ointment regularly." The doctor glanced at Kailey, taking note of her youthful face. "There might be some nasty bruises, but they'll fade before long. Don't be too concerned."
Kailey thanked him quietly and followed the cleaning lady out.
As they stepped outside, the woman turned to her. "Would you like me to call Mr. Owen for you?"
"There's no need for that."
Kailey figured Ryan was probably busy fussing over Olivia, and there was little chance he'd spare a thought for her right now.
A wry smile touched her lips as she gently twisted her waist, finding the pain had eased a bit. Handing the ointment to the cleaning lady, she said softly, "You can head back now. I'm going to school."
The woman hesitated, worry etched on her face. "Are you sure you'll be alright?"
"The doctor said it's nothing serious—no bones were hurt. I'll manage."
It took some convincing, but the cleaning lady finally agreed to leave. Alone in the back seat of the car, a wave of loneliness washed over Kailey.
She'd lived under Ryan's roof since she was a child, always feeling shielded from harm. Yet now, when she truly needed someone, the only comfort came from the cleaning lady.
She sighed inwardly, realizing all relationships eventually drift apart; hers with Ryan just ended a little sooner than most.
Later, after submitting her paperwork, Kailey informed her mentor of her intention to intern in Aslesall.
Her mentor blinked in surprise. "Aslesall? That's such a long way from here. I thought you couldn't bear to leave your uncle and planned to join his company. Wouldn't he be worried if you went so far?"
Kailey hesitated, uncertain how to explain her complicated history with Ryan. After a pause, she replied, "We aren't related by blood, and I can't keep relying on him forever. I'm turning twenty-one soon. It's about time I learned how to stand on my own. He has no reason to object."
Her mentor considered her words and let out a soft sigh. "You know, no one needs to tell me how much your uncle cares for you. It's something everyone on campus can see, teachers and students alike. Even now that you're nearly grown, he still shows up to drive you home, as if he's guarding you from every possible danger. But you're right about wanting to grow on your own—there's a lot to learn beyond these walls. I really believe you're going to do well, no matter where you go. I'm rooting for you."
Kailey gave a grateful nod and lingered for a few minutes to chat before leaving the campus behind.
Her college days hadn't lasted long, but her mentor's words brought back memories.
During her first year, Ryan had even bought a place near campus so he could cook her meals.
That kind of care felt like a lifetime ago.
Now, his world revolved around someone else—someone he truly wanted to cherish and build a future with. Kailey understood that, deep down, her presence was starting to feel like a burden to him.
Maybe stepping away was the best way she could show her gratitude, a quiet parting gift.
She was certain Ryan would be too occupied with Olivia to come home that evening.
But as she stepped inside, she caught sight of him on the couch, focused on his laptop.
The sound of the door made him glance over. "Back from class already?"
Kailey hadn't expected to see him. The cleaning lady must have kept him updated.
"Yeah," she replied, setting her things quietly in the cabinet. After a short pause, she asked, "How's Olivia? Is she alright?"
Hearing Olivia's name made Ryan's brow tighten, irritation flickering across his features.
Kailey could sense he was ready to scold her for hurting Olivia again, so she lowered her head and kept quiet.
To her surprise, Ryan changed course. "I left in such a hurry earlier. The cleaning lady told me you took a pretty hard hit against the table. Was it bad?"
Kailey's hand balled into a fist at her side, then slowly loosened. She stared at the floor and replied quietly, "It's nothing. I'm alright."
Ryan didn't buy it for a second. He remembered the cleaning lady mentioning that Kailey had been in tears—something that hardly ever happened. She'd always been tough, so the pain must have been unbearable.
He closed his laptop, set it aside, and moved toward her. "Let me check your injury..."
When he reached out, Kailey instinctively stepped away.
Ryan's hand hovered in the air, the gesture unfinished. Surprise flickered in his eyes at her retreat.
"Kailey?" His voice was gentler, conflicted. "I know I was only thinking about Olivia at that moment, and I missed what you were going through. I'm sorry, okay?"
A dull ache settled in Kailey's chest. All his worry had been for Olivia—he hadn't seen her at all.
With her head bowed, Kailey kept her face hidden and replied in an even voice, "It was just a bruise. Nothing compared to Olivia's injury. You should stay by her side."
"You're certain you're alright?"
"I'm fine."
Ryan studied her for a long moment before easing up, deciding she meant it. Knowing her temperament, he figured she'd have made a fuss if things were really bad.
He was about to continue the conversation when his phone rang. He picked it up, his voice softening instantly. "Olivia? What happened? Are you hurt?" he asked, grabbing his jacket without missing a beat. "I'll come right away."
He hurried toward the door, then paused and glanced back at Kailey. "If anything comes up, let me know. Take care, and try not to go out unless you need to."
Kailey stood in silence, watching as he hurried out, started his car, and disappeared down the street.
The quiet stretched around her, her waist beginning to throb again.
Suddenly, her phone buzzed from inside her bag. The screen lit up with Kyson's name, and a lump rose in her throat.
She answered, voice tinged with vulnerability. "Kyson, I got hurt."
You may also like
7.6
When Christine Woods collapses into a hospital bed from unbearable pain, her husband's response is colder than the IV dripping into her veins: "Stop pretending to be sick."
That same night, a single social media post shatters her marriage--Neil Caffery, intimate with the first love he once claimed was dead.
Three years of marriage. Three years of neglect, indifference, and quiet self-deception.
In that moment, Christine finally understands the truth: she was never a wife--only a substitute.
Not wanting to live as a substitute any longer, she divorced her husband.
After divorce, Christine started her new life, achieving success both in career and love.
Seeing her so radiant and successful, her scumbag husband beg her to come back.
"Hazel, I know I was wrong. Please come back."
However, before Christine could respond, the country's richest man kicked him and held Christine's waist, "Who are you? Stop pestering my wife!"
His voice was cold, his presence imposing.
Christine looked at him and snorted, "When did I agree to marry you?"
"Baby, are you still angry about last night? I promise, I will be gentle next time." The man said, looking at her playfully.
Christine hit his chest playfully, her face turning red.
8.6
On the night of her third wedding anniversary, Isabella Hart discovered her husband in another woman's bed.
By morning, she was divorced.
Humiliated. Replaced. Erased.
After three years of loving a man who treated her like a shadow in her own marriage, Isabella walks away with nothing but her pride - and a secret she refuses to tell him.
But fate has a cruel sense of humor.
Hours after signing the divorce papers, she accidentally marries the most powerful and dangerously untouchable man in the city - billionaire CEO Alexander Laurent - in a legally binding contract mistake that cannot be undone.
Alexander needs a wife to secure his inheritance.
Isabella needs revenge.
What begins as a cold-blooded deal soon turns into something neither of them expected.
Because her ex-husband suddenly wants her back.
And this time... she's no longer the woman he threw away.
But when secrets unravel and the truth about that anniversary night comes to light, Isabella must decide-
Is this marriage her salvation... or her greatest mistake?
7.0
At their first meeting, Vanessa dazzled as the heiress of an elite family, while Shawn survived as a broke, hardworking student.
He fell for her-then she shattered his illusion with a sneer. "Do you think you're even in my league?"
Years later, Shawn returned as a rising attorney and heir to a powerful family, backed by wealth and influence.
Disgraced and frantic, Vanessa fought to free her parents, framed and jailed.
She dropped to her knees and begged for his help.
He said coolly, "Be my lover-until I'm done with you."
To her, it was his revenge. But Shawn knew it was the love he'd wanted.
7.5
In a world ruled by power and illusion, the most dangerous role is playing yourself.
When scandal detonates inside the powerful Laurent empire, its fragile heiress, Georgia Laurent, vanishes from public view. Investors panic. Markets wobble. The media circles like vultures.
Then Georgia returns.
Perfectly styled. Perfectly composed. Perfectly convincing.
There's just one problem.
She isn't Georgia Laurent.
She's Sharon Beckley - a struggling actress drowning in debt and one missed audition away from losing everything. When the enigmatic fixer James Barnett offers her an obscene amount of money to impersonate the heiress "temporarily," Sharon accepts. It's a role with strict rules: smile for cameras, memorize the biography, sign where instructed, and never ask questions.
But behind the mirrored walls of the Laurent estate, Sharon discovers this isn't damage control.
It's containment.
Locked wings of the mansion. Security systems recently upgraded. Burned files in marble fireplaces. Offshore accounts bleeding billions from Laurent Global Holdings. And whispers of a former executive whose fatal accident may have been murder.
When Sharon pushes too far, the pressure shifts. Surveillance tightens. James grows colder. The board becomes ruthless.
Then the real Georgia disappears.
No flight records. No secure messages. No proof she's alive.
And suddenly Sharon understands the truth: she wasn't hired to stand in.
She was selected to replace.
Now trapped inside a stolen identity with powerful men determined to preserve the illusion, Sharon faces an impossible choice - become Georgia completely and inherit an empire built on blood...
Or expose the conspiracy and risk being erased permanently.
Because in the Laurent world, identities are assets.
And only one Georgia Laurent is allowed to exist.
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?"
7.1
I was the top commander of a black-ops military program. After slaughtering my way through a hellish mission, I reached the extraction helicopter, trusting my second-in-command to watch my back.
But the moment our hands locked, he didn't pull me up. Instead, he plunged a syringe of lethal neurotoxin directly into my neck.
He aimed his gun at my chest, coldly stating that I was too dangerous to live. My lungs stopped, and I died in a pool of my own blood. But the endless blackness suddenly shattered. My consciousness violently forced its way into a new, broken shell. I woke up in a freezing alley, soaked in muddy rain.
This body belonged to seventeen-year-old Eliza Wyatt. A massive wave of foreign memories crashed into my brain. Her own younger sister had just stood at the top of the stairs with a mocking smile, watching street thugs beat Eliza to death.
"Take good care of the Wyatt family's eldest daughter. Tonight is the night she finally disappears."
The endless humiliation, the cold stares of her family, and the brutal betrayal by her own blood flashed before my eyes. Why was this fragile girl treated like garbage and pushed to her death by the very people who should have protected her?
I looked down at my pale, trembling hands. The top commander was dead, but in this bleeding shell, Eliza Wyatt was very much alive. I picked up a switchblade from the bloody puddle and stood up in the storm. It was time to hunt.