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The One She Loved to Hate Novel Cover

The One She Loved to Hate

Hailey’s wedding turns into a nightmare when Nolan, her former captor, crashes the ceremony to expose their intimate history. After eight years as his kept woman, she endures his public humiliation of her groom before finally vanishing to escape his cruelty. Driven by a deep-seated grudge against her family, the cold mafia heir finds his hatred turning into an obsession. When his leverage disappears, Nolan descends into madness, desperate to reclaim the woman he swore to never let find peace.
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Chapter 3

When Hailey stepped out of Nolan's bedroom, her legs felt like bricks.

She didn't go far—just collapsed onto the couch and waited.

Jordyn came down in full glam: designer outfit, Chanel bag swinging. That's when Hailey's lashes fluttered.

"Why?" Her voice scraped like ash.

"Why what?" Jordyn's tone dripped with sarcasm. "Why I slept with Nolan? Or why I ditched you and the Hart name?"

Her eyes gleamed with spite.

"Please. You knew I liked Nolan. We're both Dad's daughters—so why'd you get it all? I liked him first! Who cares if I was younger? What makes you so special?"

Jordyn's words stabbed deep. Hailey's fists clenched.

"Even so, how could you be with him? Did you forget why Dad's dead?"

"So what? He had it coming." Jordyn leaned in, voice like a blade. "If you were gonna run, why didn't you stay gone?"

Hailey stared at the sister she once loved more than anything. Her eyes, hollow and heavy, held a grief too deep to say out loud.

"You really think he'll pick you? He's using you—to trash Dad's name, to trash all of us."

Jordyn didn't flinch. Just turned and walked off.

Hailey dropped to the floor, completely wrecked.

Her eyes drifted upward—and there he was.

Nolan stood at the top of the stairs, silent. Cold. Just watching her break.

***

With Jordyn around, Nolan stopped barging into Hailey's room like before—no more tearing her clothes off, no more forced nights.

Now he made her stand guard outside his bedroom.

She'd lost count of how many times she sat there, numb to the sounds on the other side. Her heart? Dead quiet.

Nolan dragged Hailey back to the company, slapped "assistant" on her again.

People she used to work with wouldn't even look at her.

Her phone buzzed. Nolan's voice was ice.

"You'll go in my place to tonight's dinner."

Click. He didn't wait for a reply.

Jane from PR dropped off a folder, eyes flicking with sympathy.

"Ms. Hart, Robert Ramirez is a total creep. Just... watch yourself, okay?"

Before Hailey could say anything, another coworker yanked Jane away.

"Are you dumb? Mr. Thorne's setting her up. Ramirez is a known perv—yet he's sending her alone."

Hailey clenched the folder—then pictured her mom, Amelia, still hooked up to machines in the ICU. Her body eased, just a little.

She'd spent a year on the run, doing everything she could to keep Amelia hidden from Nolan.

But he still found them.

She honestly didn't know what else to do to make him stop. To let her go. To leave her family alone.

Donovan dying hadn't been enough.

So... would her death be?

The thought iced her veins. She shook it off fast.

She couldn't die. Not yet.

If she did, who'd look after Amelia?

Jordyn? Please. She hated her—hated all things Hart. She hadn't visited their mom once.

Just thinking about it made Hailey squeeze the folder tighter.

***

That night, Hailey showed up early.

She figured Robert would roll in with a team. Nope. He came solo.

Dinner was gross from the jump. He kept trying to slide his hand over hers.

She yanked back, steadying her voice. "Mr. Ramirez, if your company partners with ours, we'll absolutely hit those targets."

Robert's greasy smile spread across his thick face.

Then he went for it—skipped her hand this time and landed on her thigh.

She flinched, tipping her wine glass straight onto him.

Her face drained. "I'm so sorry—"

But he didn't even bother pretending.

Just clamped his hand around her wrist, eyes locked on her chest.

"Ms. Hart, I came alone for a reason. You get it, right? Project's easy—just make me feel good. Real good. Do that, and I'll toss you eighty, ninety more deals. Whatever you want."

Before she could even move, his hand slid under the table—

Bang!

The door flew open.

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