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 4
"Today was so much fun. Eliza, I want to go again tomorrow," Leon said excitedly, tugging Eliza's hand as they walked into the living room.
Eliza reached out to pat Leon's head, her smile bright. "Of course, Leon. If there's something you want to do, I'll definitely take you. But everything I let you eat today was just the kind of stuff Oliver eats all the time. Nothing special."
Leon pouted and started complaining, "My mom never lets me eat those things. Eliza, you don't even know how jealous I am of the other kids. Their moms are way better than her."
Serena had just come out of the bathroom and heard the entire conversation. She walked down from the second floor, and the moment she looked up, she saw the ketchup still smeared on the corner of Leon's mouth.
Serena asked sharply, "If you knew I don't let you eat that stuff, why did you still eat it?"
Leon looked up at the sound of her voice. The moment he saw Serena, his face turned sour.
Eliza spoke up, sounding apologetic, "I'm sorry, Mrs. Powell. I didn't know you don't usually let Leon eat that kind of stuff. But it's really no big deal once in a while. Oliver eats it too."
Serena snorted, "Fast food is junk–loaded with fat and salt. It causes weight gain. Leon has a sensitive stomach. What makes you think it's no big deal? "
Eliza's expression stiffened slightly.
Leon shot back, "I've never eaten fast food before. It's just this once because Eliza brought me along. If you want to blame someone, blame me. Don't take it out on her."
Leon's automatic defense of Eliza made Serena feel bitterly ironic. After everything Serena had done to take care of him, all it took was one fast food
meal from Eliza to win him over.
Eliza explained patiently, "Mrs. Powell, I understand how you feel as a mom. I'm a mom too. It's normal that kids like fast food. It's not like they eat it all the time.
"Plus, Leon is fine right now. I just think maybe sometimes you don't need to be so strict with him.""
Serena sneered, "Really? And if something did happen, would you take responsibility?"
"Eliza would never be as stingy as you. Ollie eats this stuff all the time and he's fine. You just can't stand seeing me happy." With that, Leon wiped his tears angrily and ran upstairs.
Seeing Leon run upstairs, Victor lost his temper and snapped, "Serena, was it really necessary to blow up over something so small?
"Ellie was just being kind. If you didn't keep telling Leon what he can and can't eat, he wouldn't crave junk food so much."
They all acted like it was Serena's fault. She didn't bother arguing and turned to leave. She thought, 'Since Victor, as Leon's father, doesn't care, why should I go out of my way to cause trouble for myself?
Back in her room, Serena packed up her things and thought, 'Just a little longer. Once I get through this, I won't have anything to do with this family ever again.'
Early the next morning, just as Serena was waking up, she heard a knock at the door. Before she could respond, the door was already pushed open.
Eliza walked in with a smile, holding a glass of milk. "Mrs. Powell, Victor took the kids out. He asked me to let you know you don't need to prepare any meals for us today."
Serena didn't even glance at her. She turned and sat down at the vanity, calmly taking off the bracelet from her wrist.
"I'm not interested in any of that. You don't need to tell me. And Me, Stone, didn't anyone ever teach you to knock and wait for permission before entering someone else's room?" Serena remarked.
Eliza's fingers tightened slightly around the glass, her knuckles turning pate. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Powell. I wasn't thinking, I just felt like maybe there's been a misunderstanding between us.
"When I had issues with my house, Victor invited me to stay here. I didn't think too much at the time. But don't worry. Once my place is fixed, I'll leave with Oliver right away"
Serena could hear the provocation in Eliza's words. "Eliza, there's no one else around right now. You don't need to keep pretending. Do you think that act of yours still works?" Serena turned and looked her straight in the eye.
"Mrs. Powell, I'm not sure what you mean," Eliza said as she sat down on a stool across from her. She set the glass of milk on the table, rested her chin on her right hand, and put on a troubled expression,
She continued, "I thought you were smart. When you saw me come back, I figured you'd know better and leave.
"I know the Powell family has a lot of money, and you want to stay a bit longer to get a bigger cut. But think about it–do you really believe someone like Victor would give you anything?"
Now that Eliza had dropped the act, Serena smirked coldly. She had no interest in the Powell family's money. But now, she was genuinely curious about why Eliza had come back to the country.
Serena asked, "Eliza, if you chose to leave Victor back then, why come back now? Is it because your ex–husband broke?"
Eliza's face darkened. Her hand clenched slightly, but after a pause, she let out a breath. "Serena, stop trying to get a read on me. It won't be long before Vic divorces you. You'd better start thinking about how you're going to live after that."
As she spoke, the smile on her face grew wider. "I've only spent a few days with Leon and he already adores me this much. There's no way he'll choose you."
It felt like a sharp knife stabbed straight into Serena's heart. She thought, "If even the son I gave birth to prefers another woman, then so be it. I don't want anything anymore.'
Sensing the shift in Serena's emotions, Eliza got an idea. She stood up, walked over, and snatched the emerald bracelet Serena had just put away.
The emerald bracelet was high–quality, clearly expensive, and easily worth millions of dollars. Eliza hadn't expected the Powell family to give Serena something this valuable.
"You're not allowed to touch that." Serena reached out to take it back, but Eliza dodged her and stepped away.
Eliza turned the emerald bracelet over in her hands, clearly amused. "So this bracelet's enough to make you lose control. No wonder you're clinging to the Powell family like your life depends on it. Let me help you out."
Eliza's expression shifted instantly as she suddenly hurled the emerald bracelet to the floor. Even with carpet underfoot, the bracelet still snapped apart.
Serena's expression changed. She rushed over in a panic, picked up the broken emerald bracelet from the floor, and looked it over carefully. Only when she saw that it was still salvageable did she calm down.
With proper jewelry repair, it should be possible to restore it. When Serena returned it later, at least she'd have something to show for it.
Eliza stood there, looking down with open disdain and contempt in her eyes. "You really are pathetic. Sorry. But since it's already broken, I'll throw it out for you."
Caught off guard, Serena let Eliza snatch the bracelet away.
The emerald bracelet was only broken into two pieces–there was still hope to get it repaired. But if Eliza damaged it further, there would be no way to fix
Serena's eyes turned cold as ice. She stepped in front of Eliza at the top of the stairs. "Eliza, give me the bracelet."
Eliza glanced toward the front door and heard the sound of Victor returning with the kids.
Just as the door opened, Eliza suddenly grabbed Serena's hand. Tears streamed down Eliza's face, and her voice trembled with sorrow as she said, "Mrs. Powell, it's all my fault."
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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.