NOT YOURS TO LOSE, EX-HUSBAND
My ex-husband, Reese Beaumont, sent me divorce papers on our anniversary, five years after I walked down the aisle to join him. I signed them with a red lipstick and sent them back to him, with a short note which read: "I am not going to give you the liberty of thinking you still own me."
Now, one year later, he is standing in my office, the smug look in his eyes gone, and for some reason, still wearing our wedding ring.
"You're still mine, Roxanne. You didn't sign the divorce papers, and you seem to forget that you're nothing without me."
A soft chuckle escape my lips, right as my fake fiancé walks in, holding our one-year-old son. The son Reese never knew I was pregnant with.
"Funny," I mutter. "Because I don't remember you being in control of the game."
Now, he's everywhere, showing up at my gallery and outbidding my fake fiancé at my auctions. Telling the media we are on the road to reconciliation.
But I am not the same woman who cried for him one year ago.
I am the woman he never expected to walk out the door. And the one he'll always regret letting go.
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Chapter 4
Roxanne's POV
The house has been silent for more than five minutes. Yet, I am still on the floor, still clutching my stomach.
A lot of thoughts go through my head. What if I die in this bedroom alone, staring at the mess on the floor? What would my husband do when he returns? Will Camilla tell him it isn't his fault he failed to check if I was alright?
I push myself closer to the door with my palms, and that is when I see it.
The smear of blood behind me.
"Oh God!" I whisper, fear mixing with the pain. I shiver from the uncertainty that has wrapped itself around me, but something keeps me pushing. I don't know what it is, but I don't stop using my palm as a propeller until I am outside the door.
My room is at the end of the hallway, and it looks like a lot of getting there while crawling. But I cannot give up now, not when I am so close.
Pain makes me fold into a ball in the middle of the hallway, kicking me until I am gasping for breath. Tears sting the corners of my eyes, pouring down my face.
When the worst of the pain passes, I resume my journey, intent on getting into my bedroom. After what feels like forever, I finally get the door open, reaching for my phone on the nightstand.
"Lennox." My voice breaks as I press the phone against my ear after dialling the only number on my emergency contact list.
"Roxanne?" I can hear the worry slip into his tone immediately. He should be asleep by now, but his voice sounds so alert. "Roxanne, are you fine? What is happening? Where is Reese? What did the fucker do?"
"I'm hurt," I cry, unable to stop myself. "There's ...there's blood everywhere."
Lennox doesn't even ask where Reese is before saying, "I'll be there as fast as I can. Stay on the call with me."
Pushing the phone back on the nightstand without ending the call, I lay my head on the rug and succumb to the pain, allowing it to whisk me away in its arms.
The next time I open my eyes, it is to the sound of something beeping in the background and the sickening smell of antiseptic in the air. There is someone beside me, their elbows digging into the bed.
"Urghh!" I wince as I try to sit up. Everything is spinning around me.
"Easy," a strangely familiar voice whispers. I feel a pair of strong, warm hands pushing me back into the bed. "You only just woke up. You don't have to get on your feet immediately."
"It's too bright," I whisper, closing my eyes. "Can you turn off the lights?"
"Of course." He gets up, just as I hear the door. "You can open your eyes now."
When I do, I find Lennox and a doctor in a lab coat standing by my bedside. There is another person in the room, the one who spoke to me when I opened my eyes. But he is in a far corner now, blending perfectly into the shadow.
"Mrs. Beaumont," the doctor starts. "How do you feel now?"
"Parched," I croak.
He laughs. "Of course." Then moves to the dispenser in the room, grabbing me a cup. I drink from it greedily, taking every single drop in.
That feels much better.
"Now, let's start with the pain." The doctor's voice is back. "Is that gone?"
I nod. I can't feel it again.
"What time is it?"
"6 am," the man in the shadows responds. "You were out for five hours."
"And Reese?"
Lennox looks at me like he's about to lose his shit. "I can't believe you're asking of him when he was the one who put you in here."
"He wasn't," I shake my head insistently. Lennox is my best friend, and he has never been a fan of Reese from the very first day, but they have managed to co-exist as long as they don't bump into each other.
And that is not difficult to achieve since Reese barely lets me go anywhere.
"So who did this?"
I open my lips to speak, but press them shut.
"What about all the blood?" I say instead, looking up at the doctor.
"You were so lucky they got there when they did. The baby is safe."
Baby. That word is like a match, and the only emotion I can feel is pain. Pain from how long my husband has reminded me of my barrenness, pain from when I see movies with babies and the only thing I can think of is how I don't have any.
"What?" I sit up so fast that I feel the blood rushing into my head. A bout of dizziness hits immediately, but I am too overwhelmed by the sudden revelation to give a moment's thought to it.
"I'm not pregnant," I tell the doctor. "My husband and I have been trying for years now,"
He smiles at me. "Well, you're pregnant because we had to do a lot to save your baby. I guess congratulations are in order, Mrs. Beaumont. Do you want me to break the news to him?"
For a moment, I feel weightless, like I am being lifted into the air. And then, the heaviness drops all around me when I replay the doctor's words.
"Don't tell him," I whisper. "I'll do it myself."
For the first time in years, it feels like I am personally making a decision where my body is concerned. The freedom to keep my baby away from him.
Or not.
"You need to spend the night here so we can properly monitor you, but you should be discharged tomorrow morning."
Lennox waits for the doctor to leave before speaking. "Don't tell me you're planning on going back there after this."
"I'm married," I murmur, getting back into bed. "I have to go back to my husband and my home."
"I cannot believe you're saying this!" Lennox gives me one last look before storming out. He will come around. He always does. I know he cares so much for me.
My eyes fall on the shadow still leaning on the wall in one corner of the room. He angles his head. "I'm thankful you didn't listen to me that night." His voice sounds like rainfall under the dark skies.
"What night?"
"Doctors are of the opinion that alcohol reduces the chances of fertility." He repeats my words from the party as he saunters closer. "A very subjective statement, but I'm glad you held on to it."
His face comes into focus.
I can see his piercing blue eyes.
"Hello, Mrs. Beaumont," his lips barely move. "I'm Isaiah."
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9.2
In LA's Business world, Zane Calloway, thirty, turns cartel king after his father's gruesome murder, ruling The Atlas Group with a bloody fist. He learned how betrayal could ruin even the biggest empire and was hell bent on keeping Atlas Group. However when Sienna Carter, his new assistant got in the picture, he threw caution to the wind. To become the only one controlling the cartel, he would use Sienna who was a supposedly ghost from a dead cartel as bait for his enemies. Sienna Carter made his mission become even more complicated as she ignites a dangerous sparks in him. Twenty-five year old Sienna Carter just wanted to stay alive, running away from danger had been the only thing she was capable of since her family were murdered. All she had as a semblance of her old life was the locket her dying father had given her and when a new job pops up in Los Angeles, she gambled for it, hoping for her sake that it wouldn't lead her straight to the same hell she was running from.
However, she would soon realize that the Atlas Groups was going to be more than just a survival decision but the key to everything.
9.6
Ezran Williamson never asked for a new family, especially not one that comes with a stepbrother he can't stand.
At twenty-one, Ezran is sharp-tongued, rebellious, and determined to graduate and build a future in programming on his own terms.
But when his mother remarries a powerful businessman, his carefully controlled life collides with Lucian Banks, his cold, dominant, and dangerously untouchable stepbrother. Successful, older, and infuriatingly composed, Lucian is everything Ezran hates.
Slowly, hatred turns into tension, tension becomes chemistry, and chemistry ignites something neither of them is prepared to face.
What begins as resistance slowly unravels into a forbidden obsession, one that defies family, morality, and control. As secrets surface and pressure mounts, Ezran and Lucian are forced to choose between duty and desire, legacy and love, because some feelings don't fade and some obsessions are worth every consequence.
8.3
I lost my memory. Or rather, I faked it.
Conrad Gallagher, the boyfriend I had been secretly dating for five years, effortlessly erased our entire relationship.
"You're only fit to be a casual hookup."
Then, he announced his engagement to a woman approved by his parents.
To save myself from utter humiliation, I faked amnesia, conveniently forgetting no one but Conrad.
But when it was time for me to get married, Conrad regretted it. He kidnapped me right out of my wedding and spirited me away: "Don't marry him, okay?"
8.2
He wanted freedom after breaking me. So I hired a stranger for one reckless night.
But he's not a call boy. He's a mafia king who owns this city. Now he decided I'm his. No negotiations. No escape.
9.0
Jordan was taken aback, his lips parted as he gasped in surprise.
Chloe sighed, "Is there any other special cleaning you want in the room aside from the regular one?" she asked coolly.
Jordan stared at her in disbelief. Her indifference stung him. Did she just ignore what he was saying? He waited three hours for her the day before. Of course he could never tell her that. He had been mad at himself for having such feelings. Right now, he couldn't be any madder.
But the girl just stood there, looking so nonchalant, carefree, unconcerned. His business card was a treasure to anyone else, but she had trashed it. He clenched his jaw. For once, he was at a loss for words.
Chloe spoke up, "I will get to work then."
She turned to leave.
"Hey!" Jordan bellowed.
She stopped, frowning. Why was he so angry?
"You will get to work, doing what? Telling everyone it wasn't you who made that mess?" he scoffed, "Isn't that what you were about to say to my mother?"
Chloe put on a false perplexed look, "But that's the truth. We both know I am not the one at fault. What exactly are you scared of, Mister Cavanaugh? Why should it be a big deal?"
"So you are going out there to tell on me?" he gave a low laugh.
"No. Not really," Chloe said offhandedly, "I think I have my job back for now, thank you. I will face that and hope you don't play such games with me again."
Jordan came closer to her, frowning, "Are you threatening me?".
Chloe wanted to place her hands on his broad chest and push him away, he smelled so good, "Threatening you? Hell no, that's not a threat. I was just soliciting for peace. I didn't do anything wrong to you or your family. YOU wronged me, you ought to apologize. But I am not even asking you to".
Jordan moved closer, step by step, until her back hit the door. His face hovered inches from hers, his breath warm, his eyes dark and unreadable. Chloe's heart skipped a beat, as she began to panic.
Chloe Carson thought moving to Colorado would bring stability and a chance to rebuild her life. But her new job at the Cavanaugh mansion proves anything but simple, especially with Jordan, the handsome yet infuriating heir whose every word and glance keeps her on edge.
As Chloe tries to find her footing, she also faces Niles, her cousin's crush, whose attraction to her awakens feelings she did not expect. Torn between Niles's gentle affection and Jordan's intoxicating pull, Chloe must navigate jealousy, secrets, and emotional traps she never saw coming.
As unexpected consequences spiral around her, Chloe will have to decide whose heart she can trust... before it is too late.
7.4
I was the wife of Damien Valenti, the most ruthless mafia Don in Chicago.
But to cement his power and marry a rival family's daughter, he exiled me to the slums without a single dime.
"Stay not as my wife, Izzy, but as my whore."
That was his final ultimatum before dumping me out of his black SUV like trash.
Terrified of losing me, my five-year-old son, Angelo, secretly hid in the car to follow me.
Two days later, in a squalid Indiana motel, Angelo caught severe pneumonia.
I had no money and no doctor. In sheer desperation, I sliced my own wrist with broken glass, pressing my bleeding arm to his pale lips, begging him to drink and live.
But my little boy died in my arms.
Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away, Damien was sipping vintage champagne with his new bride, casually dismissing the life of his own flesh and blood.
The grief turned me into a monster. I spent twenty years clawing my way through the underworld to destroy his empire, only to die with a bullet in my chest.
I gave him my absolute devotion, yet he traded our family for political power without a single ounce of hesitation.
Opening my eyes again, I was back in that hellish neon-lit motel room.
Angelo was burning with fever and fighting for air, but he was still breathing.
This time, I wasn't the naive girl who loved Damien Valenti. I was a woman holding two decades of their darkest secrets, and my vendetta had just begun.