Too Late, Billionaire: The Doctor's Comeback
Aimee sat in the sprawling Manhattan penthouse, waiting for her billionaire boyfriend to return from a business trip.
Then a breaking news notification popped up. It was a paparazzi photo of Hamilton holding a prominent socialite, announcing their upcoming corporate marriage. The medical records Aimee saw confirmed the worst: the woman was already twelve weeks pregnant with his child.
When confronted, Hamilton didn't show a single ounce of guilt. He casually dismissed the baby as a mere "business arrangement" required by his family.
He pinned Aimee against the wall and threatened to completely destroy her medical career. He swore to cut off her research funding, blackball her from every hospital in the city, and force her to live in the slums if she dared to walk away.
He even sent his assistant with a Cartier diamond necklace, fully expecting her to accept the bribe and quietly play the role of his obedient mistress.
Aimee felt a thick wave of nausea. She couldn't believe the man she had loved for years saw her as nothing more than a clueless toy whose dignity could be bought with filthy money.
She took off his platinum necklace and placed his limitless black credit card on the marble vanity.
"I would rather dig through the trash than spend another day as your pet bird."
Aimee packed her faded medical scrubs into her old canvas suitcase and walked out into the freezing night, heading straight for the chaotic front lines of a public ER.
Chapters
Share
Chapter 4
Aimee whipped her head around. Hamilton Reed stood in the doorway, wearing a dark, bespoke suit, his chest heaving slightly, his face a mask of pure, unadulterated fury.
Dr. Thorne jumped up from his chair. He looked terrified of the man who was the clinic's largest financial donor. "Mr. Reed, I wasn't expecting..."
Hamilton ignored the doctor completely. His predatory gaze locked onto the manila envelope in Aimee's hands.
He crossed the room in two massive strides. Before Aimee could react, his long arm shot out and snatched the envelope right out of her grip.
"Hey!" Aimee snapped, reaching up to grab it back.
Hamilton used his height advantage, holding the envelope high above his head out of her reach. He didn't even look at it. He turned his cold eyes to Dr. Thorne. "Get out."
Dr. Thorne wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. He looked at Aimee with pity, but the threat to his funding was too great. He hurried past Hamilton and practically ran out of the office, pulling the door shut behind him.
The moment the latch clicked, Hamilton ripped the thick envelope in half. He tore it again, then shoved the pieces into the heavy-duty paper shredder sitting next to the desk.
The machine roared to life, the metal blades grinding the paper into confetti.
Aimee watched the destruction with dead eyes. "I can print a hundred more of those," she said, her voice completely devoid of emotion.
Her coldness seemed to snap something inside him. Hamilton stepped forward, backing Aimee up until her shoulder blades hit the wall. He slammed both his hands flat against the drywall on either side of her head, caging her in.
"How long are you going to keep up this tantrum?" Hamilton demanded, his voice a low, vibrating growl. "Are you trying to see how far you can push my patience?"
Aimee turned her face away, disgusted by the familiar scent of mint and expensive tobacco on his breath. "I am simply finalizing our breakup."
Hamilton reached down and pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look at him. "You quit this fellowship, and what? You go back to working brutal shifts in some filthy public ER? You'll ruin your career."
Aimee slapped his hand away. Her eyes blazed with sudden fire. "Working in an ER saves lives. It's a hell of a lot more honorable than being a lying, manipulative parasite."
Hamilton let out a harsh breath. "You think you can just walk into another job? Without my recommendation, you won't get an interview in this city."
Aimee felt her chest tighten with rage. "I saw Celeste's medical chart on the front desk ten minutes ago, Hamilton. Twelve weeks. The fetus is developing perfectly."
Hamilton's pupils blew wide open. All the color drained from his face. The rigid tension in his arms collapsed, and his hands dropped uselessly to his sides.
"Aimee..." he stammered, his arrogant mask completely destroyed. "That... I was drunk. It was a mistake. But the board demands an heir. It doesn't change what we have."
Aimee's stomach violently heaved. She shoved both her hands against his chest, pushing his shocked body away from her. She broke out of his cage.
She grabbed a pen and a yellow sticky note from Dr. Thorne's desk. She scribbled a single sentence on it and slapped it down on the mahogany wood.
"That is my handwritten resignation," Aimee said, pointing a shaking finger at the note. "It is legally binding. I am not spending another second in this building."
Hamilton snapped out of his shock. His humiliation rapidly morphed into rage. He lunged forward and grabbed her upper arm, his grip painfully tight. He yanked her toward the door.
"Let go of me!" Aimee hissed, struggling to dig her heels into the carpet.
Hamilton ignored her. He dragged her out of the office, across the hallway, and shoved her into a small, dark medical supply closet.
He slammed the door shut and locked it. The tiny space smelled overwhelmingly of bleach and sterile gauze. They were standing so close their chests were almost touching.
Hamilton was breathing hard. His tone suddenly shifted, dropping into a desperate, pleading register. "If you stay, I'll buy you that house in Long Island. The one with the greenhouse you liked. Just stay."
Aimee stared up at the man trying to buy her dignity with real estate. Her anger vanished, replaced by a crushing, absolute pity.
"I wanted a partner who respected me," Aimee said softly. "You don't even know what that word means."
Hamilton's pride flared, ugly and vicious. "You walk out that door, you have nothing," he spat. "You'll live like trash."
Aimee didn't blink. "I would rather dig through the trash than spend another day as your pet bird."
As she spoke, the closet door rattled. Someone was trying to open it from the outside. Then a smooth, feminine voice floated through the gap: "Hamilton, darling? Are you in there? The board is asking for you." It was Celeste. And she was holding the key.
You may also like
7.9
Elena Crane wakes up in a hospital bed after barely surviving a resort fire, only to discover the devastating truth. The kidney she donated to her husband Leo three days ago wasn't for him. It was for his mistress, Lydia. Worse, she overhears Leo instructing a doctor to kill her within five days and make it look like surgical complications so he can collect two hundred million dollars in life insurance. Their entire five year marriage was an elaborate scheme to steal her organs and murder her for money.
What Leo and Lydia don't know is that Elena is actually Roberta Alfred, the legendary jewelry designer and billionaire heiress who abandoned her empire for love. After enduring multiple murder attempts, including being locked in a morgue and losing her uterus to forced hysterectomy, Elena escapes. She divorces Leo, claims the insurance money herself, and returns home to reclaim her identity and her family's billion dollar empire.
9.2
Averie spent hours preparing a perfect third-anniversary dinner for her billionaire husband, Jarett Sharp.
Instead of celebrating, she received an anonymous photo of him intimately holding another woman.
When Jarett finally arrived, he didn't even look guilty.
"Candida. It's okay. Don't be scared. I'm on my way."
He simply took a call from his mistress, shoved Averie aside, and walked right back out the door.
That same night, Averie's father suffered a massive heart attack.
The hospital demanded a half-million-dollar deposit before they would operate.
But when Averie frantically tried to use the emergency medical trust card Jarett had given her, it was declined.
Jarett had deliberately frozen her access to the funds just hours earlier.
While she begged his assistant on the phone, Jarett refused to be disturbed, busy wrapping his expensive coat around his mistress in the hospital garden.
Averie collapsed in the hallway, realizing the man she loved was deliberately letting her father die.
In the end, a childhood friend stepped in to pay the bill and save her father's life, while her billionaire husband later pinned her to their bed, throwing a check at her and reminding her he had bought her for three million dollars.
Averie didn't shed a single tear.
She slowly ripped his check into pieces, left her massive diamond ring on the dresser, and walked out into the cold New York night with nothing but her old suitcase.
She pulled out her phone and dialed her old ballet professor.
She wasn't just going to leave Jarett Sharp. She was going to destroy him.
9.3
For years, Gabriela believed the man beside her would be the one she grew old with. They had loved each other since they were young, but in the end, all those years meant nothing beside a younger woman's smile.
Returning from a business trip, she uncovered his betrayal with brutal clarity. Still, she did not cry or beg. She took out her phone, recorded every damning second, and filed for divorce the moment she could.
Afterward, she rebuilt her life into something brighter, richer, and stronger, even marrying a powerful tycoon. As for her ex and his shameless mistress, they could rot together.
8.1
My billionaire husband, Cooper, was thirty minutes late to my father's funeral.
When the heavy cathedral doors finally opened, he wasn't there to comfort me. He was tightly shielding his mistress, Celeste, under his umbrella, treating her like a fragile lily while I stood alone in my black mourning dress.
The whispers in the pews were deafening, but they were nothing compared to the truth I soon uncovered.
Cooper hadn't just humiliated me—he had secretly taken my father's life-saving spot in a medical clinical trial and given it to Celeste's family. My father died gasping for air because of him.
Days later, while I was shivering in the ER with a 103-degree fever, I saw Cooper sneaking into the VIP maternity ward. He was holding Celeste, his face glowing with the ecstatic joy of a man about to become a father.
For three years, I swallowed my pride to be his perfect, obedient wife, only to let his elite friends openly mock me to my face.
"You were just keeping the seat warm until the real queen came back."
He let my father die, hid all our marital assets in offshore trusts, and made me take birth control every single morning, claiming he wasn't ready for kids.
I didn't scream, and I didn't let him see me break.
Instead, I hired Manhattan's most ruthless divorce lawyer, smiled sweetly as I handed Cooper his coat at home, and began secretly gathering the evidence to burn his entire empire to the ground.
8.6
Ellery was trapped in a suffocating marriage with Manhattan's most ruthless billionaire, Holland Sutton.
She silently endured his blatant affairs, even measuring his mistress for custom lingerie at her own design studio. She drank foul, black fertility potions forced on her by his cruel mother, who treated her like nothing more than a breeding machine.
She only tolerated the endless abuse because her own brother blackmailed her. He threatened to pull the plug on their dying mother's life support if Ellery didn't secure Holland's massive investment for his company. So, she swallowed her pride. She let Holland drag her around like a trophy, let his mother demand she quit her business, and allowed herself to be stripped of all dignity.
But then, the devastating news broke.
Holland's cousin had just welcomed a baby boy, securing the family inheritance. Ellery's womb was suddenly useless to the Sutton empire. The promised investment for her brother was instantly revoked. Every humiliation, every bitter potion she had choked down, was for absolutely nothing. She had been the perfect, silent puppet in a sick game she could never win.
Yet, Holland simply dragged her to the closet and threw a black haute couture gown at her feet.
"Put that on. Tonight, you are going to smile and show all of New York that my marriage is perfectly intact."
Staring at the heavy dress on the floor, a cold, terrifying clarity replaced her despair. If the rules of his twisted game had changed, then so had hers.
8.7
"Sign the papers and leave. My true love is coming home, and this house no longer has room for a placeholder like you."
For three years, Lia Leighton was the perfect, invisible wife to Julian Cohen-the cold-blooded titan of the Port Harcourt business world. She was the one who nursed his wounds, managed his scandals, and endured his family's cruelty, all while he treated her like a piece of furniture he'd forgotten he bought.
But on their third anniversary, instead of a celebration, Julian hands her a cold ultimatum. His "White Moonlight"-the woman who broke his heart years ago-has returned, and Lia is being discarded like yesterday's news.
Julian expects Lia to beg. He expects her to cry for the meager settlement he's tossed at her feet. After all, she's just a penniless orphan he rescued from the gutter... right?
He couldn't be more wrong.
Without a single tear, Lia signs the papers, leaves her wedding ring in the dust, and vanishes.
When she resurfaces, she isn't the quiet wallflower Julian threw away. She is the glamorous, untouchable CEO of the Leighton Global Empire-the very woman who now holds Julian's entire financial future in her hands.
As Julian's world begins to crumble, he realizes too late that he didn't just lose a wife; he lost the most powerful woman in the city. But when he finally falls to his knees to beg for mercy, Lia only offers a cold, devastating smile.
"Mr. Cohen, I don't negotiate with exes. Stay in your lane."