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 8

The sound of the impact silenced the lobby.

Seraphina lay curled on the cold marble. Her hat had fallen off, revealing her pale face. Her eyes were squeezed shut. Her hands were clutched tightly around her abdomen.

Zoe burst out of the stairwell door. She saw Seraphina on the floor.

Sera! Zoe screamed.

She ran, shoving reporters aside. She slid to her knees beside her friend.

Julian pulled his leg free from Harper's grip. He stood up, staring at Seraphina. He took a step forward.

Is she... is she okay? he stammered.

Seraphina let out a whimper. It was a sound of pure agony.

Then, Julian saw it.

A dark stain was spreading across the light gray fabric of Seraphina's jeans. It was growing fast. Crimson. Thick.

Blood.

It pooled on the white marble floor, bright and terrifying.

Julian felt like he had been punched in the gut. He couldn't breathe.

Zoe looked at the blood. Her face went gray.

Gurney! Now! Zoe screamed at the hospital staff. Code Blue! Internal Hemorrhage!

The words hit Julian like a hammer.

Hemorrhage?

He stumbled forward. He grabbed Zoe's shoulder. What did you say? Why is she bleeding like that? Is it her stomach?

Zoe slapped his hand away. She stood up, her white coat stained with Seraphina's blood. She looked at him with pure hatred.

"Get away from her!" Zoe yelled. "You did this! Look at what you did!"

She didn't say it. She didn't say "baby." She didn't say "pregnant." She just looked at the blood and then at Julian with eyes full of accusation.

Julian's knees gave out. He grabbed the reception desk to hold himself up.

He looked at Seraphina. She was semi-conscious. Her lips were moving.

He leaned down, desperate to hear her. To tell her he didn't mean to push her.

Save him... she whispered. Her voice was a broken rasp. Don't let Julian near... he'll kill him...

Julian recoiled as if she had spit in his face. Him? Who was him? Was she delirious? Did she think he was a murderer?

Paramedics swarmed them. They lifted Seraphina onto a stretcher. The movement caused more blood to flow.

Harper watched from the floor. She saw the blood. A flicker of triumph crossed her face, quickly replaced by a mask of horror.

Oh god, Harper sobbed. I didn't know...

Julian turned slowly to look at Harper. For the first time, he didn't see a victim. He saw the person who had held him back.

But he didn't speak. He turned and ran after the stretcher.

The elevator doors were closing. Zoe stood in the gap.

Don't you dare, Zoe hissed. You stay with your fake. You don't deserve to be here.

The doors slid shut.

Julian stood alone in the lobby. The blood was still on the floor. He looked at his hands. There was blood on his fingertips from where he had tried to touch Seraphina.

A camera flashed.

Julian turned on the photographer. He grabbed the camera and smashed it onto the floor.

Get out! he screamed. All of you!

He collapsed against the wall, sliding down until he was sitting on the floor, his head in his bloody hands.

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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 8

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