Follow
Chapters
Share
Too Late For Regret: My Billionaire Husband Novel Cover

Too Late For Regret: My Billionaire Husband

I was twenty-five weeks pregnant, sitting on a cracked plastic chair at the hospital, when my billionaire husband looked me right in the eye and called me "it." Ellsworth didn't recognize his own wife in my tight coat and swollen ankles; he was too busy shielding his mistress, Jolie, from the "messy cleaning lady" in the hallway. "Just ignore it," he told his assistant as I struggled to stand. "Close the doors. We’re running late for the gala." He left me there with a high-risk pregnancy diagnosis and a prescription I couldn't afford, while he drove off in a Maybach with a woman who had meticulously stolen my entire identity. When I returned to our cold mansion, the nightmare continued. His grandmother treated me like a breeding animal, and the housekeeper tried to starve me because Ellsworth said my weight gain was "embarrassing" to the family name. I soon realized the sick truth: Jolie wasn't just his lover; she was a mimic, wearing my old clothes and using my old hair tutorials to play the role of the woman I was before the Banks family broke me. How could a man who once promised to love me now treat me like a stain on his perfect life? Why was he keeping me trapped in a guest room while parading a fake version of me around the city? They thought I was a broken, penniless ghost with nowhere to go, but they forgot I was once the sharpest financial mind of my generation. While Ellsworth was busy playing house with a replica, I was secretly accepting a fully funded PhD and auditing his illegal shell companies from the shadows of his own home. He thinks he can keep me trapped in this marriage just to secure his trust fund. He has no idea that I’m not just leaving—I’m going to burn his empire to the ground before the baby is even born.
Chapters
Share

Chapter 8

When Ellsworth opened the door, Cressie saw her.

Jolie was sitting on the white leather sofa. She had her shoes off. She was drinking an espresso.

"Oh!" Jolie jumped up, smoothing her skirt. "Cressie! I didn't know you were... visiting."

Ellsworth walked to his desk and sat down, ignoring the awkwardness. He gestured for Cressie to sit.

She remained standing.

"Sign the resignation," Cressie said, placing a fresh copy (she had brought two) on his desk.

Ellsworth picked up a pen. "I'll have payroll add a severance package. Three months' salary."

"Keep it," Cressie said.

"Oh, don't be silly," Jolie chimed in. She walked over, her heels clicking on the glass floor. "Everyone needs a little spending money. Especially now that you're... expanding."

Jolie reached into her oversized Birkin bag. She pulled out a long, velvet box.

"Actually, I have a little present for you," Jolie beamed. "I felt so bad about the hospital. I wanted to make it up to you."

She opened the box. Inside lay a string of pearls. They were large, white, and lustrous. But Cressie recognized the clasp immediately. The silver rose. It was the Winters family necklace. Her mother's necklace. The one they had been forced to auction off three years ago to pay the first round of warehouse debts.

Jolie hadn't just bought a gift. She had hunted down a family heirloom, bought it with Banks money, and was now offering it back like charity.

"Vintage," Jolie said. "I found them at an estate sale. I thought they looked... quaint."

"Here, let me," Jolie said, reaching for Cressie's neck.

"No," Cressie said, stepping back.

"Oh, come on, don't be rude," Jolie pressed. She lunged forward, trying to clasp the necklace around Cressie's neck.

"I said no!" Cressie pushed her hand away.

It wasn't a hard push. But Jolie was wearing six-inch stilettos on a glass floor.

She stumbled. She flailed. She grabbed Cressie's arm to steady herself.

They both went down.

Cressie fell hard on her hip. Her side slammed into the corner of the oak desk.

"Ah!" A sharp cry escaped her lips. Pain radiated through her lower back, searing and hot.

Jolie landed on the carpet, the pearls scattering across the floor with a sound like hail.

"Jolie!" Ellsworth was around the desk in a second. He knelt beside Jolie. "Are you okay?"

"I... I think so," Jolie whimpered, clutching her ankle. "She pushed me, Ellsworth. She just pushed me!"

Ellsworth turned his head. His eyes were blazing. "Are you insane?" he shouted at Cressie. "She was giving you a gift!"

Cressie was still on the floor, holding her side. He hadn't asked if she was okay. He hadn't asked about the baby. The pain in her hip was throbbing, a dull ache that made her nauseous.

She looked at the pearls scattered on the floor. One had rolled next to her hand.

She picked it up. She rubbed it against her tooth. Smooth.

Real pearls feel gritty. The Winters pearls were real. These were smooth.

Cressie realized then the depth of the insult. Jolie hadn't bought the real necklace. She had bought a replica. A cheap copy to mock the loss of the original.

Cressie pulled herself up, using the chair for support. She winced, clutching her side.

"It's a fake," she said.

"What?" Ellsworth snapped, helping Jolie to the sofa.

"The necklace," Cressie said. She tossed the pearl onto his desk. It bounced with a hollow plastic sound. "It's a knockoff of my mother's necklace. High-end costume jewelry. Jolie didn't buy the heirloom, Ellsworth. She bought a prop to humiliate me."

Jolie froze. Her tears stopped instantly.

Ellsworth looked at the pearl. He looked at Jolie.

"Jolie?" he asked.

"I... I must have been scammed!" Jolie stammered, her face turning pink. "The dealer promised..."

"You don't buy from dealers," Cressie said, her voice ice cold. "You buy from Instagram ads."

She looked at Ellsworth. "You prioritize a woman who brings you fake pearls over the woman carrying your real child."

She grabbed the signed resignation form from the desk.

"Goodbye, Ellsworth."

She walked out. Her hip was throbbing, but her head was high. She needed a doctor, but she wouldn't let them see her limp.

In the elevator, she found one stray pearl caught in the cuff of her trousers. She took it out and dropped it into the trash can in the lobby.

Fake, she thought. Just like his love.

---

You may also like

Divorce After Affair Shock Novel Cover
9.4
After three years of devoted marriage, Chloe is shattered to discover her husband, Eric, has been maintaining a secret affair. The betrayal leaves her world in ruins, forcing her to confront the painful reality of their relationship. Determined to reclaim her dignity, she chooses to walk away from the billionaire lifestyle they shared. As she navigates the fallout of a high-profile divorce, Chloe must find the strength to start over and heal her broken heart.
Escaping The Billionaire's Golden Cage Novel Cover
8.3
For three years, my billionaire husband Bronson treated me like a fragile glass doll. The media said he worshipped me, but his love felt more like a suffocating collar as we struggled with infertility. The day I finally got a positive pregnancy test, I wanted to surprise him. Instead, I opened his hidden safe and found a commercial surrogacy contract. He had secretly bought another woman to carry his child, and she was already seven weeks pregnant. When I confronted him and threw my wedding ring on his desk, his perfect husband mask shattered. He claimed he did it to "protect" my weak body. When I demanded a divorce and walked out, he systematically cut off my air supply. He froze my credit cards, drained my personal trust fund, and blacklisted me across the entire entertainment industry. "She'll last forty-eight hours before she's crying on her knees." Standing penniless in the freezing rain, I pressed a hand to my flat stomach. If he found out about the baby inside me, he would use it as an unbreakable chain to lock me in his cage forever. I couldn't let him win. With nowhere left to run, I called an old co-star who had mysteriously vanished from Hollywood years ago. Gardner Whitfield wasn't an actor anymore; he was a ruthless corporate predator. He slid a contract across his desk, offering to forge me steel wings to tear Bronson apart. "Sign this, and you become my exclusive property for five years." Without hesitating, I picked up the pen.
Ex-Wife Rising: The CEO's Regret Novel Cover
9.7
My Chanel suit was ruined, stained with road dirt and torn at the sleeve, while the hospital bodyguards stood like stone walls to keep me away from my husband’s room. Inside that room, Ashely Berger was being treated for "multiple fractures" after allegedly lunging into the path of my car—a car I know she threw herself into on purpose. The press swarmed me, flashing cameras in my face and hurling accusations of attempted murder, while my husband, Corbin, marched past me without a single glance, his eyes filled with nothing but cold, lethal disgust. He didn't ask if I was hurt; he didn't care about the truth. He only cared about the woman behind the door, whispering gentle promises to her while treating me like a piece of filth that had somehow contaminated his life. I stood there, hollowed out, as he demanded a divorce and threatened to strip me of everything, branding me a monster in front of the entire world to protect his precious reputation and his mistress. The injustice burned, but as he turned his back on me to comfort her, I realized the game had changed. I wasn't going to let him ruin me for a crime I didn't commit, and I certainly wouldn't let her steal my life without a fight. I walked into the room, locked the door, and looked at the woman playing the victim. She wanted to play the role of the tragic, broken angel? Fine. I was ready to show her exactly how a real Mcgowan fights back.
Forsaken Bride: Deceived Into Love's Second Chance Novel Cover
7.1
To marry his first love, Deanna's husband of three years faked his death. Hiding behind his twin brother's identity, he and his family ran a cruel con. Her sobbing didn't move him. To impress that woman, he even had Deanna punished. As agony lit every nerve, she chose to walk away. With a sharp flick, she sent the ring into his face and wed a comatose tycoon, brushing off her ex's belated begging. A bleak future seemed certain-until the "coma" turned out to be an act. Under cover of night, her new husband pinned her down and murmured against her ear, "Baby, why don't we go another round?"
No Escape: The Billionaire Won't Sign Novel Cover
9.5
I returned to New York with two scuffed suitcases and a broken heart, ready to end my three-year exile as a ghost wife. All I wanted was to sign the divorce papers, move my dying mother to hospice, and vanish from the billionaire Spears family forever. But the moment I stepped into the penthouse, I saw a pair of expensive red-bottomed heels by the door that weren't mine. Carlyle, the husband who hadn't spoken to me in years, was already moving his mistress into our home before the ink on our separation agreement was even dry. The humiliation was only the beginning. Carlyle treated me like an intruder in my own house, yet he forced me to attend high-society galas as his "perfect" wife to protect his reputation. When I tried to leave, he froze my bank accounts, leaving me unable to pay for my mother’s life-saving treatment. He watched my desperation with cold, predatory eyes, flaunting his new romance in the tabloids while keeping me trapped in his freezing home. My mother’s doctors warned me she was running out of time, but Carlyle only used her illness as a leash to keep me from running. I didn't understand why he was doing this to me. I had clearly signed away the money and the name, so why wouldn't he let me go? Why did he have me watched for years if he hated me so much? Why was he flaunting another woman while refusing to sign the papers that would set us both free? What did he want from a woman he claimed to despise? When I finally cornered him with the final decree, Carlyle didn't pick up the pen. He snatched the folder, a flicker of cold triumph in his icy eyes. "The terms are wrong, Beatrix. I'm adding an employment clause. You’re going to work for me, in my office, where I can keep you under my thumb 24/7." He didn't just refuse to sign the papers; he had just turned my divorce into a permanent prison sentence.
Pretend to Be Mine Novel Cover
8.0
Elena Ramirez has spent years cleaning up other people's messes-balancing a demanding analyst job by day and side hustles at night to pay off a mountain of family debt. Love was never on her agenda. Then Adrian Harrington, the city's most feared billionaire, makes an offer she can't ignore: pose as his girlfriend to steady his company during a vicious boardroom power struggle. Six months. One contract. No feelings. It should be easy. But each public appearance, each staged kiss, pulls them closer than either planned. The arrangement ignites a firestorm-Adrian's jealous ex fakes a pregnancy, a hacker leaks private photos, a friend betrays them, and even his own family schemes against them. The gossip columns call her a gold digger; rivals call for Adrian's head. Somewhere between whispered confessions and desperate damage control, the line between pretend and real disappears. Now Adrian must choose between the empire he built and the woman he never meant to love, while Elena risks everything-career, reputation, and heart-for a man who was supposed to be temporary. Falling in Pretend delivers a high-stakes contemporary romance bursting with slow-burn chemistry, ruthless betrayals, and twists that will leave readers breathless.