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 3
Just then, Leon suddenly waved his little hand. "Dad, let Eliza have Mom's room. It's big and bright perfect for Eliza and Offie."
Victor paused for a second.
Eliza immediately caught the subtle shift in his expression and rushed to speak before he could say anything. "No, that's not okay if there's really no space, I'll take Oliver and find somewhere else to stay. I'm so sorry for bothering you."
"It's no bother," Leon said, suddenly pouting. He turned his head and looked at Serena with urgency and grievance, raising his voice. "Say something. What, you lost your voice today?"
Serena looked into Leon's eyes, full of blame. "If Eliza takes my room, then where am I supposed to sleep?" she questioned
Leon puffed out his cheeks, clearly indifferent, his face turning red as he shouted like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "The storage room has a bed. Just sleep there.
"You should be glad you even have a place to stay. Why are you being so picky?"
Hearing that, Eliza looked troubled. She stepped forward slightly, her eyes full of sincerity and apology.
She looked at Leon as she spoke gently, "Leon, I'm a guest. Your mom is the host. How could I take the host's room? I'm already thankful she's letting me stay here. Oliver and I aren't going to be picky."
Eliza turned to look at Oliver, who had been quiet the whole time. "Right, Oliver?"
Oliver gave a calm nod.
"Well, Ms. Stone, you really know your place," Serena replied evenly, going along with her. "So you all can figure out another plan for the room."
Serena had swallowed her pride for years. She wasn't going to back down anymore.
Hearing that, Leon was furious. "You're such a wretch. I knew you didn't really want Eliza to stay. You're so annoying."
He put his little fists on his hips. "But don't even think about kicking Eliza out. I'll just sleep with Dad, and Eliza and Ollie can have my room."
Victor's eyes lit up. "That works. It's settled then."
Leon happily pushed the suitcases toward the elevator, and Victor led Eliza and Oliver to Leon's room.
Once again, Serena was the extra one. She was used to it. She went back to her room and started packing.
Not long after, Eliza came in with a cup of hot coffee in her hands. "Mrs. Powell, may I come in? Are you packing for something? Going out?"
Serena didn't respond. She couldn't exactly tell Eliza she was leaving.
Eliza said, "Leon poured this coffee for you. He may be little, but he's got a lot of pride. He was too embarrassed to bring it.
Serena didn't believe for a second that Leon had poured that coffee for her. self."
If Eliza hadn't shown up, maybe Serena would've believed it. But Leon now hated Serena too much to even get her a cup of coffee.
Serena said, "Ms. Stone, you don't need to smooth things over between me and teon. The four of you living happily ever after is better than anything else."
Even though Eliza had played innocent ever since she walked in–and had even stepped in a few times to help correct Leon–Serena didn't believe that was her true colors, Serena's instincts told her Eliza was far from simple.
Eliza bit her lip, looking guilty. "Mrs. Powell, did I do something to make you misunderstand me?"
She walked over to Serena anxiously. Seeing Serena folding clothes, Eliza quickly reached out and grabbed her hand.
Eliza said, "Mrs. Powell, if you don't want me to stay, just say it. I can leave. But please don't get the wrong idea about me. I never meant to sabotage your relationship with your family. I really didn't-"
Serena cut in coldly, "Let go."
"I'm begging you, please don't misunderstand me, okay? I'll leave, alright?"
"I said let go."
Serena had no idea what Eliza was trying to do. Seeing her stubbornly clinging on, Serena yanked her wrist free.
Before Serena could say anything, Eliza, who had been standing just fine, suddenly fell. The hot coffee in her hand spilled onto Serena's skin, instantly turning a large area red.
"Ow!" Eliza's sharp cry pierced the air.
"What happened?" Leon and Victor rushed over the moment they heard the noise. The moment they saw the scene in front of them, their expressions suddenly changed.
Victor rushed forward, his eyes tinged red with panic. "Ellie, are you okay? Are you hurt?"
Eliza raised her hand pitifully. Her delicate skin was now marked with a small red burn. "Victor, it's my fault. I shouldn't have come today. I upset Mrs. Powell. Please don't blame her."
Victor turned to glare at Serena, his eyes filled with anger. "Why did you do this? Ellie's just here to stay for a couple days.
"It was already bad enough how you kept giving her a hard time, but now you actually laid hands on her?"
Instantly blamed for something she didn't do, Serena was shaking with rage, knowing full well she'd just been set up. But her mind went blank. She blurted out the truth, "She fell on purpose."
Serena had thought Victor still had some ability to tell right from wrong. But not only did he lack that now, his face darkened even more.
He yelled, "Serena. How can you be so cruel? Why would Ellie fall on her own for no reason? You did it, just admit it. You've really let me down."
He scooped Eliza into his arms and rushed to the living room to apply medicine to her burn.
Even Leon pointed at Serena's face and cursed her out, screaming, "You're such a wretch. I hate you. You're evil and disgusting. You don't deserve to be my mom. Just die already. Stop ruining things between Dad and Eliza."
Serena shoved him away, her breathing heavy. "Leon Powell, you little brat, say that again."
Leon lost his balance and fell to the floor, tears welling up in his eyes. "You wretch, I don't love you anymore. I hate you." With that, he took off running.
Serena's fingers trembled, and a dull pain throbbed on the back of her hand. Serena lowered her eyes and looked at the large burn across it, then laughed. Eliza had only gotten a few drops on her and Victor was already that worked up. But Serena was hurt far worse, and no one cared.
Serena's throat moved with a deep swallow as she walked alone to the bathroom to run cold water over her hand.
The water was colder than usual, and the twisted, jagged scar in her palm seemed even more noticeable now.
Outside, she heard Leon's cheerful voice. "Yay. We're going out to eat. Daddy's the best, Ellie's the best too, I wish every day could be like this," he laughed.
"Victor, are you sure Mrs. Powell won't be upset we're not taking her?" Eliza asked.
Victor said, "She won't be. And even if she is, she'll get over it by the time we're back."
Serena turned the faucet up to full blast, drowning out their voices from the living room.
After a long while, she suddenly shut off the water with a loud clack and walked straight into the bedroom, her steps firm and unwavering.
Serena thought, 'I'll get over it? No, Victor. Not this time.'
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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.