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Once My Wife Novel Cover

Once My Wife

After a tragic accident, Elena wakes up with no memory of her life or her husband, the powerful billionaire Julian Thorne. While he claims they were deeply in love, her fragmented recollections suggest a much darker reality. Trapped in a mansion of secrets, Elena must navigate a web of lies to uncover the truth about their marriage. Every discovery brings her closer to a dangerous mystery that Julian is desperate to keep hidden.
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Chapter 3

The encounter with Lila had torn a jagged hole through the wall Bella had spent years constructing. Her silence, her carefully measured distance, the professional armor she wore like second skin all of it had crumbled in the space of one breathless moment.

After Jason’s stunned question, the silence had been thunderous.

Bella had barely managed to gather Lila into her arms, murmuring a rushed excuse about a mix-up with childcare, and fled the office with her heart pounding like a war drum. Behind her, Jason stood frozen, blueprints forgotten, his expression carved from stone and disbelief.

The next morning, Reed International was a different world.

The air crackled with something unspoken. Whispers died down when Bella entered the hallway. Eyes flickered curiously, nervously, then away. Word had clearly not spread but something had shifted. She felt it in her bones. And she didn’t have to wait long.

Jason called her in the moment she arrived.

His voice over the intercom was clipped. Cold. The door to his office closed behind her with the finality of a prison cell.

“Bella,” he said just her first name. No “Ms. Quinn.” No pretense.

The sound of it, rough and restrained, made her stomach twist.

She stood tall. “Jason.”

He didn’t sit. He circled around the desk slowly, hands in his pockets, his jaw taut. “We need to talk. About yesterday.”

Her grip tightened on the strap of her bag, knuckles whitening. “Jason, Lila is my daughter. That’s all there is to say.”

“That’s all there is to say?” he echoed, his voice rising as he stepped forward. “You expect me to believe a child with my eyes, my hair, who appeared in this building days after you—that’s all there is to say?”

She stood her ground, but her pulse thundered in her ears.

Jason’s eyes burned into hers, daring her to lie. “How old is she?”

Bella’s lips parted, her defenses trembling. “She’s five.”

A storm moved across his face. Silent. Violent.

“Five,” he repeated, as if tasting the word. “You left… five years ago.”

She saw the moment it clicked. The devastation. The betrayal. The rage.

“You were pregnant,” he whispered. “And you didn’t tell me.”

“Because you were with her!” Bella shot back, voice cracking like glass. “I walked in and saw you with Veronica. What was I supposed to think?”

Jason stepped closer, his expression unreadable. “You should’ve talked to me.”

“You were holding her like she was everything,” she hissed, years of pain flooding back. “You broke me, Jason. I ran because I had no one else.”

“And now you show up with my daughter, like none of it matters?” His voice was dangerously quiet. “You stole five years from me.”

She flinched, but her chin lifted defiantly. “Don’t you dare. I gave up everything to raise her alone. You don’t get to play the victim.”

He turned away abruptly, pressing his hands against the edge of his desk. His breathing was rough, labored. “Why now? Why here?”

“I didn’t know this was your company,” she said, her voice breaking. “I was hired through a design firm. No names. No client ID. I thought… it was a fresh start.”

Jason looked back at her. His eyes didn’t hold anger anymore. Just a hollow ache. “This isn’t over.”

He sat down and picked up a pen. “Now get me the finalized layout by Friday. We’re behind schedule.”

Dismissed. Just like that.

Later that afternoon, Bella sat at her desk, trying to focus. Her sketches were a blur. Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for a ruler. Her heart hadn’t stopped pounding since morning.

Then came the email.

From: Veronica Pierce

Subject: Urgent Consultation Request – Legacy Project

The message was formal, even polite. But Bella recognized the venom beneath the words.

Attached was a convoluted, outdated floor plan of a derelict Reed acquisition from years ago. It was irrelevant to current operations an obvious ploy to derail her. Veronica hadn’t wasted a second.

Bella stared at the screen for a long time before quietly deleting the email. If Veronica wanted a war, she'd picked the wrong woman.

Later, Ryan Cole stood in her doorway.

His frame filled the space, relaxed as always, but there was something softer in his expression today. “Rough morning?”

Bella gave a hollow laugh. “That obvious?”

Ryan stepped inside, his voice lower now. “I just wanted to say… don’t let Jason’s anger fool you. He’s confused. Hurt. And he’s been living in hell for years.”

She glanced up, brows raised. “Funny. I always thought he moved on just fine with Veronica.”

Ryan’s eyes sharpened. “Are you sure about that?”

Bella’s breath caught.

“What?”

“Are you sure you saw what you think you saw?” His gaze was steady. “Things… aren’t always what they seem, Bella.”

Before she could ask more, his phone buzzed. He gave her a tight nod. “We’ll talk later.”

The door clicked shut behind him, and Bella sat there stunned. Doubt slithered into her chest like smoke.

Could she have been wrong?

Later that night, her apartment was quiet. Lila was fast asleep, her tiny snores a steady rhythm through the baby monitor.

Bella sat on the couch, staring at an old photograph. It was faded now, but the memory was sharp. Her and Jason—laughing, carefree, impossibly young. Back when everything felt invincible.

Then came the image burned into her mind: Jason in his office, Veronica leaning close, a whisper, a touch. Her world had shattered in a single frame.

But now… Ryan’s words haunted her.

Was it possible that what she had seen wasn’t what it looked like?

Had she been running from a ghost?

She closed her eyes, the photograph trembling in her hands.

The past wasn’t just behind her anymore.

It was rising up alive, relentless, demanding answers.

And the only way forward… was to face it.

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