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

Chapter 7

The light was blinding. Seraphina threw her hand up to cover her eyes, her other arm instinctively crossing over her stomach.

Mrs. Sterling! Why are you here?

Are you here to confront the dying woman?

Have you no shame?

The questions were shouted like accusations. Microphones were thrust into her face, nearly hitting her.

Julian stood frozen by the elevator. He saw Seraphina being swarmed. He saw the fear in her posture. Instinct kicked in. He took a step forward, his mouth opening to shout at the reporters to back off.

Harper saw his movement. Her eyes narrowed.

Ah! Harper screamed.

It was a piercing shriek. She threw herself forward out of the wheelchair. She hit the floor with a thud.

My stomach! Harper wailed, curling into a ball. Julian! It hurts!

Julian spun around. He dropped to his knees beside her. Harper!

Harper pointed a shaking finger at Seraphina. She... she pushed past me... she looked at me with such hate...

It was a lie. Seraphina was twenty feet away. But the implication was clear. She caused this stress. She caused this pain.

The reporters went feral.

Murderer!

She attacked her!

Julian looked up at Seraphina. His eyes were black with rage.

Get out of here! he roared. Haven't you done enough?

Seraphina lowered her hand. She looked at the man she had loved for three years. He was cradling the woman who was faking cancer, screaming at his pregnant wife.

I was just leaving, Seraphina said. Her voice was barely audible over the noise.

She turned to go. But the crowd had surged forward, blocking her path. The reporters were pushing, trying to get a shot of Harper on the floor.

"Move!" Julian shouted. He stood up, desperate to get Harper back into the elevator. He shoved his way through the press, his shoulder leading like a battering ram.

Seraphina was in his way. She was trying to back up, but she was hemmed in by the cameras.

Julian didn't see her face. He only saw an obstacle between him and safety for Harper. He extended his arm and shoved hard to clear the path.

"Move aside!"

His hand connected with Seraphina's shoulder. It wasn't a gentle push. It was the force of a desperate man.

Seraphina gasped. The floor was polished marble. And nearby, a janitor's bucket had been knocked over in the chaos.

Her feet slipped on the wet stone.

She fell backward.

Time seemed to slow down. Seraphina saw the ceiling lights spinning. She felt gravity take hold.

Julian saw it happen. He saw her feet go out from under her. He surged upward, reaching out his hand to catch her. He was close enough. He could reach her.

Julian! Harper screamed again, grabbing his pant leg with a vice-like grip. Don't leave me! I'm dying!

Julian looked down. He hesitated. Just for a fraction of a second.

That fraction was enough.

Seraphina hit the floor.

Her lower back struck the sharp metal corner of the reception desk with a sickening crack. Then she hit the ground.

She didn't scream. She just made a soft, exhaling sound.

Continue to next part

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.

Billionaire Modern Romance

8.3

Escaping The Billionaire's Golden Cage

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.

Billionaire Modern Romance

8.3

Goodbye Alpha, I'm No Longer Your Blood Bag

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.

Billionaire Romance Werewolf

7.9

He Rejected Me, So I Married the Lycan King

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."

Billionaire Romance Werewolf

9.6

Reborn Heiress: Pampered By The Ruthless Guardian

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.

Billionaire Fantasy Modern

9.2

Reborn To Win Back My Billionaire Husband

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."

Billionaire Modern Romance

Too Late For Regret: My Lost Heir

Chapter 7

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