Too late for regret: Ex-husband and his son wants me back
Seven years. A three-million-dollar contract. A heart broken into pieces.
Serena Powell was never more than a ghost in her own home. Hired by a billionaire to heal his broken son, she spent seven years playing the role of a devoted wife and mother, hiding the jagged scar on her palm,a reminder of the night she saved Victor's life. She thought her love had finally overwritten the contract. She was wrong.
When Victor's "true love," Eliza, returns with a child of her own, the fairy tale dissolves. Overnight, Serena is branded an outsider. Her husband treats her like a servant, and her son,the boy she raised as her own,tells her to "just die already" so Eliza can take her place.
Accused of a crime she didn't commit and slapped by the man she sacrificed everything for, Serena finally realizes the truth: In a world where feelings come with a price tag, she's already paid too much.
Now, the divorce papers are signed, the suitcase is packed, and a prestigious design firm in Glonia is calling her name. Serena is done being a substitute. But as she walks out the door, Victor is about to learn that some things,once broken,can never be repaired. Especially when he realizes he didn't just lose a contract... he lost the only woman who ever truly loved him.
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Chapter 2
Leon ducked away from Serena's outstretched hand and ran straight behind Eliza.
"I don't want you," he muttered stubbornly, clutching Eliza's clothes. "Eliza will take care of me."
Serena's hand froze midair.
Only then did she notice the woman standing by the door.
Eliza Stone.
She stood there elegantly in a white dress, holding her son Oliver's hand as though she had every right to be in the Powell residence. Rainwater still clung lightly to the ends of her hair, making her look fragile and gentle.
Victor stood beside her silently.
The warm atmosphere between the four of them made Serena feel like the outsider.
Leon leaned against Eliza obediently while Oliver stood close to Victor without fear, as if he was already familiar with this house.
Serena slowly lowered her hand. "Why are they here?"
Victor removed his coat calmly and handed it to the servant nearby. "It's raining heavily outside. Eliza and Oliver will stay here for a while."
For a while.
Serena almost laughed at how casually he said it.
This was the master residence of the Powell family, yet Victor sounded as though he was informing a housekeeper instead of speaking to his wife.
Leon tugged on Eliza's sleeve. "My knee hurts."
Eliza immediately crouched down and checked his wound gently. "It's just a small scrape. Don't be scared."
Her voice was soft and patient.
Leon pouted. "If Mommy did it, she'd definitely scold me again."
The word "Mommy" stabbed into Serena's chest like a needle.
Victor frowned slightly at Leon. "Don't talk nonsense.
But there was no real warning in his tone.
Serena stood quietly by the side, suddenly feeling exhausted.
Just yesterday, Leon had still been acting spoiled toward her. Yet after spending only a short time with Eliza, he had already begun pushing Serena away openly.
Eliza looked up apologetically. "Mrs. Powell, Leon is still young. Please don't misunderstand."
Serena looked at her calmly. "Then what exactly should I misunderstand?"
The air instantly turned tense.
Victor stepped forward impatiently. "Enough. It's late."
He naturally picked Leon up into his arms.
"Oliver," Eliza said gently, "say hello to Uncle Victor properly."
Oliver obediently nodded. "Hello, Uncle Victor."
Victor's cold expression softened slightly. "Good boy."
Serena watched the interaction silently.
It looked painfully harmonious.
As if they were the real family.
The servant quickly came downstairs. "Mr. Powell, the guest room has already been prepared."
Victor nodded, but before anyone could move, Leon suddenly spoke up.
"I want Ollie to sleep with me!"
Oliver's eyes lit up immediately. "Really?"
"Yeah!" Leon grinned excitedly. "My room has lots of toys."
The two children instantly ran upstairs together.
Eliza looked troubled. "Will this be too much trouble?"
Victor replied calmly, "It's fine. The kids get along well."
Serena's fingers slowly tightened.
Even Leon's room had already become shared territory.
She suddenly remembered all the toys she had personally picked out for Leon, all the nights she spent putting him to sleep, all the times she stayed awake when he was sick.
Yet now, another child was casually stepping into the life she built.
A servant walked downstairs again awkwardly.
"Mr. Powell... Young Master Oliver seems to really like the master bedroom. He says the view there is beautiful."
Serena's expression instantly changed.
The master bedroom.
That was her room with Victor.
Before she could speak, Leon's excited voice drifted downstairs.
"Ollie, come look! My daddy and mommy sleep here!"
The servant looked embarrassed. "Young Master Leon already brought him inside."
Serena's chest tightened violently.
She immediately turned and walked upstairs.
Just as she reached the bedroom door, she saw Oliver standing by the balcony curiously looking around, while Leon climbed onto the large bed happily.
"This room is so big!" Oliver exclaimed.
Leon nodded proudly. "Daddy sleeps here every night."
Eliza hurried over behind them. "Leon, Ollie, don't make trouble."
But her tone carried no urgency at all.
Serena stood at the doorway silently, staring at the scene in front of her.
Her private space had been entered so casually.
Like her boundaries no longer mattered.
Victor walked upstairs afterward and frowned slightly when he saw Serena standing there.
"It's just children playing around," he said flatly. "Why are you overreacting?"
Overreacting.
Serena suddenly felt cold all over.
Her husband had brought another woman and her child home.
They entered her son's room.
Now they were standing inside her bedroom.
Yet somehow, she was the unreasonable one.
Eliza gently pulled Oliver back. "Ollie, come out first. This is Mr. and Mrs. Powell's room."
Oliver lowered his head obediently. "Okay, Mom."
Leon immediately grabbed Oliver's arm unwillingly. "Why can't he stay? I want Ollie here!"
Victor looked at Serena. "They're just children."
Serena met his eyes quietly.
For the first time, she realized something clearly.
This house no longer felt like her home anymore.
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8.1
When the private elevator pinged. That was the moment Eleanor's two-and-a-half years as a billionaire's perfect fake girlfriend abruptly ended.
Julian was terminating her services early because his real first love was moving into the penthouse tomorrow.
His assistant stood by the marble counter, bracing for a screaming match. He handed over a brutal non-disclosure agreement.
He slid a five-million-dollar check across the table, fully expecting her to cry, beg, or throw the money back in his face.
"Miss Palmer... Giselle is moving in tomorrow," he warned.
Instead, Eleanor calmly borrowed his Montblanc pen, signed her name three times without hesitation, and slipped the money into her planner.
"Congratulations to Mr. Caldwell-Prentice on finally getting what he wants," she smiled flawlessly.
They all thought she was just a high-end, emotionless mercenary who felt absolutely nothing for the men she served.
They didn't know she was actually Cara Love, the last surviving heir of the ruined Love Foundation, living under a fake name to avenge her dead father.
For years, she swallowed her burning hatred, playing the perfect emotional substitute to buy dark web intel and hide her unnatural, rapid-healing body from a ruthless medical syndicate.
But now, a tech billionaire client had just uncovered her true identity, and her burner phone flashed with a terrifying emergency alert.
The syndicate had found her.
Eleanor grabbed her suitcase and ordered the private jet back to New York.
The facade was over; it was time to face the deadly storm.
8.3
I grew up feeling like an adopted child. They made me feel I was not part of them. They said I could not do as good as my sister. They said my younger sister was better in every aspect. It was understandable coming from my step mother. But my step father should have protected me. But he joined them.
That day my sister announced:
"My billionaire, Jordan, has asked me to marry him, and I said yes."
They were all happy and they told me again:
"Laura, learn from your sister. Do something productive with your life."
I took their advice, and married my sister's fiance.
9.1
June woke up transmigrated into the body of a ruthless billionaire's toxic, disposable wife.
Before she could even process the massive Beverly Hills mansion, a cold system voice announced she had exactly five minutes of lifespan remaining.
To survive, she was forced to bind with the system and strictly maintain the original owner's "brainless, abusive drama queen" persona to earn hours to live.
She was forced to violently slap hot coffee out of a terrified maid's hands and physically spank her manipulative five-year-old stepson.
When she tried to escape this nightmare by throwing divorce papers at her terrifying husband, Isaac Walton, he simply ripped them to shreds.
Every time she tried to be reasonable or show a hint of kindness, the system tortured her with agonizing cardiac pain, cementing her status as the most hated monster in the family.
The most absurd part happened when she threw a hysterical, system-mandated tantrum over a gossip magazine, and Isaac's icy demeanor suddenly melted.
He gently touched her hair, offering the one thing she desperately needed.
"Stop crying. I'll handle it."
Just as a spark of hope ignited in her chest, the system's critical death warning exploded in her skull: accepting his sympathy would instantly deduct thirty days of her life.
To stay alive, June had no choice but to violently slap away the only hand reaching out to save her, forcing herself to play the greedy villain while her husband's gaze turned dangerously dark.
7.1
I lay paralyzed on stiff white sheets, a prisoner in my own skin, listening to the rain lash against the window like nails on a coffin. My father, Elmore Franco, didn't even look at my face as he checked his clipboard. He just listened to the steady, monotonous beep of the heart monitor-the only thing proving I was still alive.
Without a hint of remorse, he pulled a pen from his pocket and signed the Do Not Resuscitate order. My stepmother, Ophelia, stepped out from behind him, wearing my favorite pearl necklace and smelling of cloying perfume. She leaned close to my ear to whisper the truth that turned my blood to ice.
"It was the tea, darling. Just like your mother. A slow, tasteless poison."
She chuckled as she revealed that my fiancé, Bryce, had a two-year-old son with my sister, Daniela. My inheritance had been funding their secret life for years, and now that the money was secure, I was an inconvenience they were finally scrubbing away. As my father yanked the power cord from the wall, the beeping died, and the darkness swallowed me whole.
I was being murdered by my own flesh and blood, used as a bank account until I was no longer needed. I died in that sterile room, drowning in the realization that every person I ever loved was a monster who had been waiting for me to take my last breath.
Then, I gasped. I woke up in a luxury hotel suite surrounded by silk sheets, five years in the past-the very morning of my wedding. Next to me lay Basile Delgado, the "Wolf of Wall Street" and my family's most dangerous enemy. In my first life, I ran from this room in a panic and lost everything. This time, I looked at the man who would eventually destroy my father's empire and decided to join him.
"I'm not leaving, Basile. Marry me. Right now. Today."
9.0
Irina Volkov has three rules: no emotions, no real names, and never meet in person. For two years she has survived on those rules alone - running romance scams on wealthy men, funneling every stolen dollar toward the crushing debt her abusive stepfather signed in her name before she escaped. She is not greedy. She is desperate. And she is very, very good.
Until she targets Nikolai Dragunov.
What Irina doesn't know is that Nikolai has known about her from the beginning. He created the perfect bait - a lonely businessman with money to burn - and waited for her to find him. Because in a world Nikolai controls down to the last detail, Irina Volkov is the only unpredictable thing left. He wanted to see how far she would go.
Now the game is over. The con is exposed. And Nikolai isn't asking for his money back. He's keeping her.
Trapped in his penthouse with nowhere to run and a Bratva boss who looks at her like she's both a puzzle and a prize, Irina has to survive the most dangerous mark she's ever made - and somehow stop herself from falling for him in the process.
She's a liar. He's a monster. And neither of them expected to fall.
"You took my money, malyshka. Now you belong to me."
8.5
He rejected her. He tried to kill her. And he called their unborn child an abomination. Now, Emily Reed is under the protection of the most dangerous Alpha she's ever met-a man who doesn't play by the rules.
One thing is certain: in Ethan Carter's world, fear is currency, and she just became priceless.