
Too Late CEO: I Am Taking Everything
On our third wedding anniversary, I prepared a romantic candlelit dinner, waiting for my husband to return from his business trip.
But an anonymous video shattered my illusion. It showed Julian at a Sotheby's auction, spending two million dollars on a sapphire necklace and tenderly placing it around another woman's neck.
That woman was his stepsister, Seraphina.
When I confronted him, Julian lied without hesitation, then angrily defended her.
"Her mother saved my life. You are my wife, you have to be the bigger person and tolerate her!"
His "protection" meant bringing her into my company as my direct boss. Seraphina stole my designs, ruined my projects, and publicly humiliated me.
When I sought justice, Julian backed her up, forcing me to submit to my abuser. He even tried to buy my silence with his company shares.
I couldn't understand why his guilt meant our marriage had to pay the price.
The final blow came when I caught them intimately entangled in his car, and Seraphina deliberately revealed a sickening truth.
Julian had abandoned me on our wedding night just to hold her hand through a panic attack.
Touching my flat stomach, where my secret pregnancy was growing, the last trace of my love for him turned to ash.
I threw the baby shoes I had prepared into the trash and walked away into the freezing night.
I am going to divorce him, and I will make sure he never finds out about this child.
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Chapter 4
Eleonora's foot had barely touched the first step of the staircase when Julian's hand clamped down on her wrist.
His grip was brutal. The bones in her wrist ground together, sending a sharp spike of pain up her arm. She gasped, her face twisting in agony.
Before she could pull away, Julian yanked her backward. He dragged her down the hallway, his strides long and furious. He shoved her through the doorway of his study and slammed the heavy oak door shut behind them.
The loud bang rattled the picture frames on the walls.
Eleonora stumbled from the force of his shove and fell back onto the leather Chesterfield sofa. She scrambled to her feet instantly, rubbing her throbbing wrist. She glared at him, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her eyes blazing like a cornered lioness.
Julian paced furiously behind his massive mahogany desk. He reached for his humidor, grabbed a cigar, and then violently threw it back down.
He braced his hands on the edge of the desk, taking a deep breath to force his anger down. He needed to regain control.
"I shouldn't have lied," Julian said, his voice tight but controlled. "But I hid it because I knew you would react exactly like this. I was trying to avoid your irrational jealousy."
Eleonora let out a harsh, incredulous laugh.
She reached into the pocket of her cardigan and pulled out her phone. She pulled up the screenshot Sloane had sent her-the internal Sotheby's bidding log.
She marched up to the desk and slammed the phone down on the polished wood.
"Irrational?" she demanded. "Look at it. The winning bidder is Julian Sinclair. Jax Mercer's name isn't anywhere on that list. How long were you going to keep treating me like an idiot?"
Julian stared down at the glowing screen. His pupils contracted. The physical proof of his lie was staring him in the face.
His jaw locked. The color drained from his face as he realized he had lost the upper hand.
He leaned forward, his dark eyes locking onto hers. He played his final, most manipulative card.
"Her mother saved my life, Nora," Julian said, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "My legs were pinned in that wreckage. She threw herself over me. She will never walk again because of me. That guilt is a chain around my neck."
He stepped around the desk, closing the distance between them.
"Seraphina is broken," he continued, his tone heavy with moral superiority. "Her husband beat her. She is suicidal. That necklace was a toy. A distraction to keep her from slitting her wrists. It means nothing."
Eleonora listened to his words. The emotional manipulation was so thick she could barely breathe.
"Does your guilt require our marriage to pay the price?" she asked, her voice trembling with cold fury.
Julian grabbed her by the shoulders. His fingers dug into her flesh.
"I will never betray our marriage," Julian swore, his eyes wild with a desperate, manic sincerity. "She is my sister. Nothing more. But you are my wife. You have to be the bigger person. You have to accept her."
Eleonora stared into his eyes. She saw the absolute conviction in his face. He truly believed his own twisted logic. He believed his responsibility to Seraphina superseded his vows to his wife.
Arguing with him was useless.
Eleonora lowered her eyelashes, hiding the cold, calculating realization in her eyes. She forced her rigid shoulders to slump. She let out a long, defeated breath.
"I understand," she whispered softly. "I won't ask about the necklace again."
Julian froze. The sudden submission threw him off balance.
Then, a wave of immense relief washed over his face. The tension drained from his body. He pulled her into a tight, crushing hug.
He buried his face in her hair, pressing a kiss to her crown. "Thank you. You're so good to me," he murmured.
Eleonora stood stiffly in his embrace. Her hands remained curled into tight fists at her sides. She stared blankly at the grey sky outside the window. Her mind was already working, calculating her escape.
Suddenly, the sharp, piercing ring of Julian's private cell phone shattered the quiet room.
Julian pulled back. He pulled the phone from his pocket. He glanced at the screen, and his face immediately tightened.
He quickly pressed the mute button. He looked at Eleonora with an apologetic smile.
"It's an emergency board meeting call from the London office," he lied smoothly.
Eleonora's hands hovered in the air. She saw the microscopic twitch in his jaw. She knew it was a lie.
She slowly lowered her hands behind her back.
"Go ahead," she said, her voice turning to ice.
Julian let out a breath. He quickly turned and walked out onto the study's private balcony, sliding the heavy glass door shut behind him.
Eleonora walked silently toward the glass door. In his frantic rush, Julian hadn't pulled the heavy door completely shut, leaving a half-inch sliver of open air. "...Seraphina... don't cry... I'm coming right now," Julian's low, desperate voice drifted clearly through the narrow crack.
The last fragile thread holding Eleonora's heart together snapped.
She let out a silent, bitter laugh. She hated herself for almost believing him five minutes ago.
Julian hung up the phone. He slid the door open and stepped back inside.
He looked at her, his face a mask of fake regret. "Nora, I'm sorry. The London team needs me to sign off on a merger immediately. I have to go to the office."
Eleonora felt completely hollowed out. She didn't have the energy to scream anymore.
She nodded slowly. "Don't forget your coat," she said, her voice dead.
Julian paused. He looked at her strangely for a second, sensing the unnatural calm. But the urgency of Seraphina's tears pushed his doubts aside.
He grabbed his suit jacket off the chair and practically sprinted out of the study.
The door clicked shut.
Eleonora's knees gave out. She collapsed onto the leather sofa. She clamped her hands over her mouth, a single, agonizing sob tearing through her throat.
She pressed her trembling hand against her flat stomach. The tiny flutter of life inside her was the only thing keeping her sane.
She wiped her face. Her eyes hardened into dark, cold stones. She needed to protect her child.
She stood up and walked over to Julian's desk. His MacBook was sitting there, the screen dark and locked. A man as ruthless and calculating as Julian never left his devices unprotected. But Eleonora knew him intimately. She knew his one hidden vulnerability. She pulled open the bottom right drawer, reaching for the vintage leather-bound copy of 'The Great Gatsby' he kept there. Flipping to page forty-two, she found the faint pencil indentations of his emergency alphanumeric sequence. She typed the complex code into the prompt, and the screen instantly unlocked.
She quickly opened his email client. She clicked on the "Deleted Items" folder.
Her eyes scanned the list. She stopped on an email sent from the Sinclair Group HR department.
Subject: Executive Onboarding Confirmation - Seraphina Sinclair.
Eleonora clicked the email. Her eyes scanned the text, and her blood ran cold.
Seraphina was officially hired. Her title was Design Director.
She was going to be Eleonora's direct boss.
Eleonora slammed the laptop shut. Her whole body shook with a violent, consuming rage. The war had just moved from her home to her office.
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9.7
For three years, I hid my identity as the sole heiress of a multi-billion dollar tech empire to live in a cramped apartment and support my boyfriend, Ben.
But the day before our engagement, I stood outside a meeting room and overheard him talking to his wealthy boss, Haylie.
"She's just a stepping stone," Ben laughed, his voice full of contempt. "A poor, ambitionless distraction while I work my way up to where I really belong."
He mocked the cheap silver ring he gave me, calling it a necessary prop to keep a naive fool happy.
He bragged about the multi-million dollar merger proposal he was presenting, planning to use it to secure his promotion and build a future with her.
He had no idea that I had secretly negotiated that entire deal using my real connections just to give him his big break.
I had sacrificed my family's comfort, my true identity, and my own career just to watch him rise.
I poured my heart and soul into our humble beginnings, only to realize he saw my love as a pathetic joke and me as disposable trash.
I calmly picked up a pen and voided the merger agreement, tearing my hard work into tiny pieces.
I went home, slid the cheap ring off my finger, and dropped it into his mug of cold coffee.
"Soon, you'll find out exactly who is nothing."
Walking out the door, I pulled out my phone and texted my billionaire father.
"I'm in. Announce the merger."

7.6
Jocelyn Yang lived in the grand Turner Mansion, not as a guest, but as a prisoner. Ever since her father's death, the ruthless billionaire Elam Turner forced her to atone for sins her father never committed.
On her nineteenth birthday, a male classmate secretly sent her a diamond necklace. Elam, who had flown back from London overnight, flew into a psychotic, jealous rage at the sight of another man's gift.
He mercilessly crushed the delicate necklace into the marble floor with his custom leather shoe.
"Did you forget what you are?" Elam hissed, dragging her into a pitch-black storage room. "You take gifts from other men behind my back?"
He pinned her to the dusty floorboards and violently assaulted her. The next morning, a wire transfer of $500,000 hit her bank account. He had humiliated her, broken her spirit, and was now casually trying to buy her silence. Later, when a broken bike left her walking miles through a freezing rainstorm, he just shoved scalding tea into her bleeding hands.
"Look at you," he sneered. "You look like a stray dog ruining my floors."
Jocelyn curled up in the cold, her lips bleeding and her heart shattered. She couldn't understand his terrifying obsession. If he hated her so much, why did he refuse to let her go? Why did he look at her with such manic hunger while systematically destroying her life?
Staring at the massive sum of hush money on her phone, a desperate spark of vengeance flared in her chest. Jocelyn wired every single cent back to Elam's account. She picked up her charcoal pencil, vowing to win the upcoming art competition and buy her escape from this monster forever.

9.1
Alysia lay on the freezing operating table, moments away from donating her kidney to her brother's fiancée.
But as the anesthesia set in, a violent shock tore through her brain, awakening agonizing memories of a thousand brutal deaths across a thousand past lifetimes.
She suddenly realized her family's true plan. Her brother and his fiancée weren't just taking her organ; they were secretly plotting to declare her mentally unfit post-surgery to steal her entire trust fund.
When Alysia abruptly stopped the procedure and exposed the fiancée's kidney failure as the result of severe drug abuse, her family's reaction was chilling.
Her father didn't care about the truth or the law. He ordered his bodyguards to lock Alysia up until she agreed to the surgery, while her brother threatened to freeze her assets and seize her late mother's penthouse.
"You have no heart, Alysia. You don't deserve the Kent name," her aunt spat in disgust.
For lifetimes, she had kept her head down, taking the blame and sacrificing everything for a family that viewed her as nothing more than a disposable blood bag and a financial pawn.
The resignation that had clouded her eyes for so long vanished, replaced by the absolute, zero-degree cold of a glacier.
Ripping the IV from her hand and leaving her family in stunned silence, Alysia walked straight out of the hospital.
She had exactly forty-six hours to find a husband to secure her inheritance, and she knew exactly which ruthless billionaire CEO to target to help her burn the Kent family to the ground.

8.5
Synopsis
It still feels so unreal being dumped by my boyfriend at the courtyard on the day of our wedding.
David didn't show up and when I called him to know the reason why.
He told me right to my face that he had found love with another woman who happened to be my best friend.
My heart was shattered into a million tiny pieces.
I was wallowing in self-pity when I overheard Lucas talking on the phone about needing a replacement for the woman who has collected a part-payment to be his wife.
I agreed to be his wife without thinking twice wanting to get back at my Ex.
What would happen when two strangers' hearts intertwined?
And what started as an arrangement became a bedrock for something real?
Read to find out.

7.4
Avery thought she'd found her happily ever after with Ethan, the charming billionaire who swept her off her feet in Willow Creek. But after one night of passion, he vanished, leaving her heartbroken and alone. She returned home to find her grandmother, her only family, had passed away.
Devastated, Avery discovered a shocking truth: she was the daughter of a millionaire who'd left her a vast fortune. Relocated to New York, she met Ethan again, but this time, he was determined to win her back. Unbeknownst to him, Avery had been hiding a life-changing secret: she's the mother of his twin babies.
As Avery navigates her complicated past and the wicked family members who despise her, Ethan's pursuit becomes relentless. He'll stop at nothing to reclaim the love they shared, but Avery's secrets threaten to tear them apart. Can she trust him with her heart and the truth about their children, or will it drive them further apart?
Ethan's words echoed in her mind: "I've been searching for you for six years, Avery. I won't let you go again." But Avery's secrets were only the beginning. Little did Ethan know, their love story was only just beginning...

7.4
Alaya woke up in the sterile hospital room to a devastating reality: her six-month-old baby was gone, lost in a horrific car crash.
But as the memories crashed into her, she realized she had been reborn. She was back three years before her ultimate death, back to the moment she remembered lying bleeding on the asphalt while her husband, Hardy, shielded his mistress from the freezing rain.
When Hardy finally showed up at the ward, he coldly dismissed the crash as a mere accident and immediately left to comfort his young lover. To make matters worse, Alaya secretly checked her medical files and found a terrifying detail: someone had intentionally slipped beta-blockers into her system, a lethal drug for her transplanted heart. And Hardy didn't care about her dead baby or her irreversible infertility. He only coldly confirmed with the doctor that her heart was still viable.
A horrifying suspicion made Alaya's blood run cold. Why was her husband so obsessed with protecting her transplanted heart while treating her like garbage? And why was his perfectly healthy mistress secretly racking up massive bills at an advanced cardiac hospital?
Realizing she was nothing but a vessel in a twisted, deadly game, Alaya didn't shed another tear.
She packed her belongings, left her flawless diamond wedding ring on the cold marble table, and vanished from their penthouse.
When Hardy finally tracked her down, she threw a thick stack of documents onto the table.
"Sign the divorce papers," she said, her eyes completely dead.