Follow
Chapters
Share
Too Late For Regret: My Lost Heir Novel Cover

Too Late For Regret: My Lost Heir

I spent three years being the perfect, quiet wife to Julian Sterling, dimming my own light to fit into his cold Manhattan penthouse. On our anniversary, I sat in the dark with a secret that would change our lives forever—I was finally pregnant with the heir he always wanted. But Julian didn't come home to celebrate. He threw divorce papers on the table and told me his first love, Harper, was dying of stage four cancer. "It is her last wish," Julian said, his voice cold and detached. "She wants to be Mrs. Sterling before she dies. It is the only thing she has ever wanted." I signed the papers and walked away without taking a dime of his billions, but fate wasn't done with me. A few days later, our paths crossed in a crowded hospital lobby. Julian, blinded by his need to protect Harper from the paparazzi, saw me as an obstacle in their way. To clear a path for her, he shoved me aside with enough force to send me flying. I hit the sharp corner of a marble desk and collapsed. As I lay on the floor, I watched Julian hesitate for a fraction of a second before choosing to comfort a wailing Harper instead of helping me. He held her hand while I bled out on the cold stone, losing the child he never even knew I was carrying. In the operating room, the truth finally came to light: Harper wasn't dying. She was faking her symptoms with bribes and stage makeup, and Julian had sacrificed his own son’s life for a performance. When he showed up at my bedside crying and begging for a second chance, I realized that the woman he married was gone. I pulled off my platinum wedding ring and dropped it onto the metal tray with a hollow clink. "Take it," I whispered. "It is too heavy. I cannot carry it anymore." Julian thinks he has lost a wife, but he has actually created a storm. I am no longer the quiet girl he broke; I am a Vanderbilt, and I am going to burn his entire world to the ground for what he did to my baby.
Chapters
Share

Chapter 5

City General Hospital. The smells were different here than at the private clinic. More bleach, more desperation.

Seraphina lay on the examination table in the VIP wing of the Obstetrics department. Zoe was looking at a file, her brow furrowed.

We have a problem, Zoe said.

Seraphina sat up, clutching her paper gown. What is it? Can't we do the procedure?

Zoe turned the clipboard around. You are Rh-negative, Sera. O-negative blood type.

I know that. So?

And your uterine lining is incredibly thin, Zoe continued. It's likely due to stress and... well, genetics.

Zoe took a deep breath. If we perform a surgical abortion now, with your blood type and the condition of your uterus, the risk of scarring is extremely high. You might develop antibodies that would attack future pregnancies.

She looked Seraphina in the eye. If you terminate this pregnancy, there is an eighty percent chance you will never be able to carry a child again. And the procedure itself... you could hemorrhage.

The room went silent. The hum of the air conditioner sounded like a roar.

Seraphina put her hand on her stomach. Never?

Zoe nodded. As your doctor, I advise against it. As your friend... I will support whatever you choose. But you need to know the cost.

Seraphina closed her eyes. She hated Julian. She hated what he had done. But the thought of never being a mother? The thought of this being her only chance?

Her phone buzzed on the side table. She glanced at it, expecting another threat from Julian. Instead, it was a low balance alert from her bank. Her account was overdrawn by twenty dollars. The monthly maintenance fee had hit.

She stared at the red numbers. $ -20.00.

She was completely broke. She had rejected the settlement. She had no job. She had a baby on the way that she couldn't afford to feed, let alone raise.

But then she remembered the email she had drafted weeks ago. The submission to Project: Ethereal. She had hesitated to send it because of Julian. Because he hated her music.

"I have talent," she whispered to herself. "I can write."

She looked at the ultrasound monitor. The screen was black and gray. There, in the center, was a tiny, pulsing flicker of white light.

The heartbeat.

It wasn't Julian's mistake. It was her miracle.

I'm keeping it, Seraphina whispered.

Zoe let out a breath she seemed to have been holding for ten minutes. Thank god.

But, Zoe warned, pulling out a prescription pad. You are high risk. Extremely high risk. You need absolute bed rest. No stress. No shouting. No emotional shocks.

Seraphina took the prescription. I'm leaving New York. I'll go to Europe. Or anywhere cheap. Anywhere far.

Good, Zoe said. Go now. Don't go back to the penthouse.

Seraphina put on her coat. She pulled her hat low. She grabbed her bag and walked out of the exam room toward the elevators.

She pressed the down button.

The elevator doors dinged and slid open.

A wall of noise hit her.

Flashbulbs popped like strobe lights. A dozen people with cameras and microphones spilled out of the elevator cars.

Harper West is on the 4th floor! someone shouted. Julian Sterling just parked his car!

Seraphina backed away, shielding her face. She was on the 3rd floor. They were heading up.

She ducked into the stairwell door just as the mob rushed past. Her heart was hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.

She was trapped. The press was swarming the building. If she went out the front, they would see her. If she stayed, Julian might see her.

She looked at the stairwell. Down was blocked by security guards managing the press. Up was the oncology ward where Harper was.

She checked her phone. Breaking News: Harper West condition critical. Julian Sterling arrives at City General.

She leaned against the concrete wall, feeling dizzy. The smell of dust and concrete filled her nose. She had to get out. She had to protect the baby.

She decided to wait. Wait for the storm to pass. But then the door above her opened. Footsteps echoed on the metal stairs.

You may also like

Claimed By My Billionaire Stepbrothers Novel Cover
9.3
They say you can't have it all. I'm about to prove them wrong-or destroy myself trying. When my struggling mother married billionaire Richard Stone, I thought I was gaining a family. Instead, I found three stepbrothers who became my obsession, my downfall, and my salvation. Dominic, the eldest, cold and commanding, who kisses me like he's claiming his kingdom and looks at me like I'm the only thing he can't control. Julian, the charming playboy who hides a vulnerable soul beneath his perfect smile, making me feel like I'm the only woman he's ever truly seen. Asher, the brooding artist who paints me like I'm his muse and touches me like I'm his masterpiece, seeing parts of my soul I didn't know existed. They're forbidden. They're dangerous. They're everything I shouldn't want. But when I discover my father didn't die by suicide that he was murdered by the very man who now calls himself my stepfather, these three powerful men becomes my unlikely allies. First it was a forbidden attraction, now it's an arrangement that defies every rule. The rules are simple: I'll give each of them a chance. I'll take everything they offer. And in the end, I'll have to make the hardest decision of my life: Choose one of them. Choose all of them. Or choose myself.
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.
Goodbye Alpha, I'm No Longer Your Blood Bag Novel Cover
8.3
Zarelle Feymere-heiress to the most powerful werewolf dynasty in the world-made one mistake: she fell for an Alpha who saw her as nothing more than a rare blood bag. For three years, she endured the humiliation of a loveless mating, her veins tapped like a commodity to sustain the woman Calden Ashmoor truly loved, Thessaly. His fated mate, who rejected him to marry his brother. When a web of lies and betrayal is uncovered, Zarelle does the unthinkable: she walks away. Now, stripped of her disguise as a docile omega, the true daughter of the Missatian Pack returns to claim her birthright-and her revenge. Calden always thought he'd married a nobody. He never expected his discarded mate to come back as a queen.
He Rejected Me, So I Married the Lycan King Novel Cover
7.9
For ten years, I was the invisible backbone of the Silver Creek Pack. I cooked the books to hide Alpha Ethan's gambling debts. I ghostwrote the peace treaties that kept our borders safe. I warmed his bed every night, waiting for the bite that would mark me as his Luna. On the night of our tenth anniversary, I didn't get a ring. I got replaced. Ethan walked into the gala with Ashley, a wealthy heiress dripping in gold, clinging to his arm. When I tried to speak to him, he didn't just ignore me. He used an Alpha Command—a biological weapon that hijacked my free will. "Go to the kitchen," he ordered, forcing my knees to hit the floor in front of the entire pack. "Ashley is sensitive to the smell of stress. You're ruining her night." He humiliated me in the house I helped build. He wore the crown I polished for him, thinking I was nothing more than a glorified housekeeper he could discard at will. He forgot that while he held the title, I held the passwords. I didn't go to the kitchen. I went to the office. I initiated a permanent wipe of the cloud backups, reformatted the local servers, and deleted ten years of financial strategies. Then, I snapped the mate bond and walked out into the rain. Three days later, I walked back into the conference room. Ethan laughed, thinking I was there to beg for my job back. I threw a foreclosure contract onto the table. "I'm not here to serve drinks, Ethan. I'm the new owner of your debt. Get out of my chair."
Reborn Heiress: Pampered By The Ruthless Guardian Novel Cover
9.6
Antoinette stood on the manicured church lawn, the blinding summer sun stabbing her eyes. The funeral service for her parents had just ended. A hand wrapped around her trembling shoulder, carrying the sharp, cloying scent of Fabian Cash's cologne. It was the exact same cologne her fiancé wore the night he locked her in a burning house to die in her previous life. Now, wearing a mask of sorrowful devotion, Fabian tried to drag her to his car to control her parents' massive life insurance payout. When she shoved him away in pure nausea, his mother Eleanor immediately shrieked to the crowd, deploying her usual guilt trip. "She's lost her mind! The girl has completely snapped!" The townspeople whispered and pointed fingers, watching Fabian play the victim as he tightened his bruising grip on her wrist, claiming she was hysterical and needed to be locked away. Antoinette stared at the mother and son who had conspired to steal her family's estate and end her life. The rage inside her felt like battery acid pumping through her veins. They didn't care if she lived or died; they only cared about the money. How could she let them strip her of everything again? She didn't hesitate. She swung with every bit of strength she possessed, slapping Fabian across the face in front of the entire town. "The engagement is over," she announced coldly. Then, she turned her back on her greedy ex-fiancé and walked straight toward the terrifyingly powerful billionaire Hiram Graves, ready to let the world burn.
Reborn To Win Back My Billionaire Husband Novel Cover
9.2
The tip of my fountain pen hovered over the divorce agreement. Across the mahogany desk, my billionaire husband, Chandler, looked at me with cold, dead eyes, waiting for me to sign my life away. What he didn't know was that a phantom pain was still tearing through my chest—the memory of cold steel sliding between my ribs. In my previous life, I foolishly signed these papers, burning down my marriage for my lover, Chace, and my sweet stepsister, Annalise. Only to be left to bleed to death in a dark alley while they laughed, planning to steal my son and Chandler's fortune. Reborn at the exact moment of my ruin, I tore the divorce agreement to shreds. I desperately tried to make amends, even joining a reality show with my traumatized six-year-old son to prove I had changed. But Chace and Annalise wouldn't let me go. Seeing my public redemption, they panicked and released a hyper-realistic deepfake sex tape of me and Chace. They demanded $300 million from Chandler, framing my newfound love for my family as an elaborate, sickening long con. Chandler burst into the house, throwing the blackmail papers at my feet. His eyes were filled with broken agony and absolute disgust, fully believing that my tears, my apologies to our son, and my desperate kisses were all just a performance for money. He thought I was the exact same monster who had destroyed him once before. The old me would have screamed, cried, and played right into their hands. Instead, I calmly stepped forward, gently smoothed the collar of his suit jacket, and looked into his tortured eyes. "I'm not going to explain the video, or the money." "I'm not going to ask for your forgiveness." "I am asking you for one thing, Chandler." "You have to trust me."