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The Billionaire's Regret: Chasing His Ex-Wife Novel Cover

The Billionaire's Regret: Chasing His Ex-Wife

I was the canary in the gilded cage, the clean face of the O'Neill Syndicate. My husband, Cameron, was the Don, and I was supposed to be his cherished trophy. But at my own art exhibition, the facade cracked. A notification lit up my phone: 'Watch your husband touch the woman he actually loves.' It was Kacie, his legal 'fixer.' She smirked at me across the room, whispering that I was just a number on a ledger while she was the partner he couldn't afford to lose. Things turned deadly when I went riding to clear my head. My saddle snapped mid-air. I hit the ground hard, shattering my leg. It wasn't an accident; the leather had been cleanly cut. Lying in the hospital bed, I waited for my husband's rage to defend me. Instead, Cameron calmly peeled a pear and fed it to me. "Leather wears out," he said dismissively. "Don't be paranoid." That night, I heard him whispering with Kacie in the hallway. He knew she had sabotaged the saddle. He knew she could have killed me. He laughed and said, "A cripple doesn't look good at galas. Keep her docile." He chose his mistress over my life. He sacrificed my safety for his public image. The tears stopped falling instantly. I didn't want an apology anymore. I picked up the phone and called Sarah Vance, the city's most ruthless divorce attorney. "I don't just want a divorce," I told her. "I want to take his empire, piece by piece."
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Chapter 4

Aryana Mason POV

I discharged myself against medical advice. I simply refused to stay.

Two days later, I was seated in a wheelchair, dressed in a black silk gown that cost more than Kacie's entire existence.

Tonight was the Grand Metropolitan Charity Auction.

Cameron had explicitly told me to stay home. He said, 'You look weak.'

That was exactly why I had to go.

I made my entrance into the ballroom, with Sarah Vance pushing my chair.

Sarah looked like a warrior queen in a sharp tuxedo suit, wearing diamond studs that caught the light like warning flares.

She wasn't just my lawyer anymore. She was my shield.

The room fell silent the moment we crossed the threshold.

People whispered. They looked at my cast. They looked at Cameron, who was standing near the bar with Kacie.

Cameron's jaw tightened visibly when he saw me.

He walked over, his stride aggressive, closing the distance like a predator.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed.

"Supporting the family image," I said, my voice steady despite the pain radiating up my leg. "A devoted wife supports charity, even in pain."

He couldn't make a scene. Not here.

He glared at Sarah. "Who is this?"

"My legal counsel," I said. "And my date."

Sarah smiled, a shark-like baring of teeth that promised violence. "Charmed, Mr. O'Neill."

Cameron spun on his heel and marched back to Kacie.

The auction began.

The centerpiece of the night was brought out under a spotlight.

The Emerald of Siena.

A necklace that had belonged to Cameron's great-grandmother. It was lost in a gambling debt fifty years ago.

Tonight, it was back.

It was a symbol of the O'Neill legacy.

"Starting bid, five hundred thousand," the auctioneer announced.

Kacie raised her paddle.

"Six hundred," she chirped.

Then she looked at Cameron, biting her lip, acting the part of the hesitant girl.

"Oh, it is too much," she said, loud enough for the surrounding tables to hear. "I shouldn't spend the family's money."

It was a play. A performance. She wanted him to buy it for her.

Cameron took the paddle from her hand.

"One million," he said, his voice booming.

He looked at me.

His eyes said, Stay down.

He was buying his great-grandmother's necklace for his mistress, right in front of his wife.

The disrespect was absolute.

The whispers around me grew louder, swirling like smoke.

"Poor Aryana." "Does she have no pride?"

My blood boiled.

I grabbed the paddle from my lap.

"Two million!" I shouted.

The room gasped.

Cameron turned slowly. He looked at me like I was an insect he needed to crush.

"Three million," he said.

"Four million," I countered.

Sarah put a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. "Aryana, careful."

"Five million," Cameron said, sounding bored.

"Ten million!" I screamed.

Silence. Absolute silence.

The auctioneer blinked, stunned. "Ten million going once..."

I looked at Cameron. I had won. I had saved the legacy from that whore's neck.

"Going twice..."

My phone buzzed against my thigh.

A text from the bank.

ALERT: All accounts frozen by authorization of C. O'Neill.

"Sold to Mrs. O'Neill for ten million!" the auctioneer slammed the gavel.

An assistant ran over with the card reader.

I handed over my Black Card, my hand trembling slightly.

It beeped. Declined.

I tried another. Declined.

"There seems to be a problem," the assistant said loudly.

I looked at Sarah. She checked her phone, her face grim. "He jammed my firm's accounts too. He has a cyber team."

I sat there, frozen.

The murmurs turned into laughter.

"She can't pay." "How embarrassing." "She's trying to buy love she can't afford."

I felt naked. Stripped of my dignity, my money, my power.

Cameron walked up to the podium.

He took the microphone.

"My wife is not feeling well," he said smoothly. "The medication for her leg makes her... erratic. I will cover the bid."

He paid.

Then he took the necklace box.

He walked over to Kacie.

Right there, in the center of the ballroom, under the crystal chandelier.

He clasped the emeralds around her neck.

"For you," he said, his voice amplified by the mic he had carelessly neglected to put down. "It belongs on someone who understands loyalty."

Kacie touched the gems, beaming. She looked at me and mouthed, Mine.

I sat in my wheelchair, the laughter of the crowd washing over me like acid.

I didn't look down.

I lifted my chin. I stared straight at Cameron.

I didn't cry.

I realized then that money wasn't enough. Divorce papers weren't enough.

He owned the banks. He owned the courts.

He owned everything.

If I wanted to beat him, I had to stop playing by the rules.

I had to become the villain he already believed me to be.

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