Too Late! The Woman He Forgot Is Now The Billionaire's Wife
For six months, Kaitlin searched for the man she loved, who had disappeared without a trace at sea, only to find him alive-but with no memory of her.
At his side stood another woman he cherished, while Kaitlin became nothing but a target of scorn and ridicule from everyone around them.
Without seeking the truth, he cast her aside and forced her into humiliation.
Realizing the man she loved was gone, she turned away and rebuilt her life beside a powerful man who kept her close but distant. But as time passed, the space between them began to close, and something unspoken-something electric-flickered to life.
Just as she began to move on, her ex regained his memory and begged for another chance.
Andrew pulled her into his arms. "My wife loves me. Don't bother her again."
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Chapter 1
"I have a boyfriend. What are you doing?" Kaitlin Clarke pressed her hands against the chest of the man in front of her.
The man's skin burned, his eyes dark and fixed, not a flicker of hesitation in them. No matter how hard Kaitlin struggled, she couldn't break free from his iron grip.
...
After what felt like a very long time, Kaitlin dragged herself out of the suite, took the elevator down, and walked into the lobby to find Hugh Williams sitting calmly in the lounge. She stopped and stared at him.
"Did you do this? Hugh, why?" Something inside her had cracked open, and the way he was looking at her, cold and completely unmoved, made it worse. A sound tore out of her before she could stop it.
She threw herself at him. The bodyguards caught her before she could get close.
Hugh got up from his seat, walked over to her, and crouched down to her level. His fingers closed around her chin and tilted her face up toward his. "Did you already forget what you did last week? This is nothing compared to that. A small taste of what Rosalie felt."
Hugh had been the love of her life for years.
A year ago, he had been planning to propose. During the rehearsal for the occasion, the helicopter went down into the sea and Hugh disappeared with it.
Nobody could talk her out of looking for him. She spent six solid months searching, putting everything she had into it, before she finally found him on a remote island far from anywhere. When Kaitlin got to him, he didn't know who she was anymore. His memory was gone, and standing beside him was another woman.
Her name was Rosalie Douglas, the daughter of one of the company's business partners. She had gone after Hugh once before and been turned down without any ambiguity, and yet she had never quite managed to stay away from him over the years.
Following the plane crash, Hugh spent six months living on an island with Rosalie while claiming he had no memory of his former life with Kaitlin.
Despite being shown photographic evidence of their past relationship, Hugh chose Rosalie every time and viewed Kaitlin's efforts as a mere annoyance.
Still, Kaitlin felt grateful to Rosalie for saving Hugh's life. But their lives changed forever during a shopping trip where Rosalie got bullied.
Blaming Kaitlin for it, Hugh decided to seek revenge in the exact same manner.
"I am telling you the truth; I had nothing to do with that!" Kaitlin sobbed as tears filled her eyes.
Looking at him, she realized that the man she loved had become a cold stranger whose presence only caused her more pain.
Hugh snorted with pure disgust. "You set the whole thing up," he accused. "You are simply facing the consequences for your actions."
The irony of the situation was almost too much for her to bear.
Waiting for the silence to stretch out, she finally let out a raspy laugh. "You are going to regret this day for the rest of your life, Hugh."
Hugh narrowed his eyes. "My only regret is that I didn't remove you from my life sooner after what you did to the woman I actually love."
Stunned, Kaitlin repeated his words about his love for Rosalie in her mind.
To her horror, he had discarded all their memories to focus on Rosalie.
Suddenly, the tension was broken when Hugh's assistant approached. "Mr. Williams, you have a call from Miss Douglas," the man announced.
Hugh's sneer softened into a tone of pure tenderness as he spoke into the phone. "Rosalie, has the dress arrived yet? Make sure to try it on. If there's even a slight issue with the fit, I'll have the designer over immediately to adjust it. I want you to look absolutely flawless for the wedding next month."
From the other end of the line, Rosalie's voice sounded delicate and shy. "I love it, Hugh, really. Thank you. But... what about your ex-girlfriend?"
Hugh's face instantly hardened into a mask of ice as his gaze flicked toward Kaitlin, who sat with her head bowed, looking as though her very soul had been hollowed out. "You are being far too kind and trying to defend her. The truth is, when I think of love, I only see the memories we shared. I feel nothing for her-it's a blank space. Surely, if she meant anything to me, I wouldn't have been able to forget her so easily."
At those words, Kaitlin's head snapped up with mechanical stiffness. Her eyes were completely parched-void of light, void of hope, and finally, void of tears.
A jagged, hollow laugh escaped her lips as her entire frame began to shudder; finally, she forced out the words with a chilling finality. "Hugh, there is absolutely nothing left for us now."
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9.5
My boyfriend, Jefferson, convinced me to give up my Yale scholarship for him. He was my secret, my escape from the shame of my mother's past, and I threw away my future for our love.
Then, at a gala, he publicly announced his engagement to Aubrey Carroll-the girl who made my high school years a living hell.
He trapped me in his mansion, forcing me to become her personal servant. She tortured me daily, culminating in her brutally killing our dog, Charlie, with a garden trowel.
When her friends arrived, they joined in, stripping me half-naked and live-streaming my panic attack for the world to see.
The man who once promised to protect me watched as they destroyed me.
But as I lay bleeding out on the floor, it wasn't an ambulance that arrived. It was the private security of Alexzander Stevens-my estranged, billionaire grandfather.
He revealed I was his sole heiress, and now, we were going to make them pay for every last tear.
7.6
When the Pollard family kicked Alyssa out into the freezing rain, Walter threw a ten-thousand-dollar check into a dirty puddle.
"Take it and get out. Don't ever come back," he sneered.
Her adoptive mother and stepsister stood on the mansion's porch, mocking her as a worthless country girl who tarnished their wealthy name. They laughed, claiming she wouldn't even be able to afford community college and would be begging on the streets in a week.
They looked at her cheap clothes and worn backpack with absolute disgust.
They were completely unaware that for the past five years, Alyssa was the secret mastermind who had built their failing gallery into a multi-million-dollar investment empire.
Every key investment, every fortune they made, came from the anonymous notes she had slipped into their unread books. They genuinely believed they were business geniuses, while treating the true architect of their wealth like a stray dog.
Looking at their smug, arrogant faces, Alyssa didn't feel a shred of sadness, only a cold, sharp irony.
They actually believed they had raised her.
She stepped close, whispered the master code to Walter's most secret offshore account, and watched the blood completely drain from his face.
"I raised you," she said, turning her back on the mansion without hesitation.
Walking into the storm, she pulled out a heavily encrypted phone and gave a single, cold order.
"Initiate a full hostile takeover of the Pollard Group."
It was time to end this little game and step into her true life—as the world's most elusive medical genius, and the long-lost billionaire heiress of the Summers dynasty.
9.3
For years, Gabriela believed the man beside her would be the one she grew old with. They had loved each other since they were young, but in the end, all those years meant nothing beside a younger woman's smile.
Returning from a business trip, she uncovered his betrayal with brutal clarity. Still, she did not cry or beg. She took out her phone, recorded every damning second, and filed for divorce the moment she could.
Afterward, she rebuilt her life into something brighter, richer, and stronger, even marrying a powerful tycoon. As for her ex and his shameless mistress, they could rot together.
9.8
Haylee always thought she belonged to the wealthy Bowen family.
But on the night of her birthday, her younger sister Cynthia handed her a crushing DNA report, sneered that she was taking her trust fund and fiancé, and shoved her violently off the yacht into the freezing Atlantic.
Washing ashore on a dark island, Haylee was brutally assaulted by a drugged stranger.
When she was finally rescued, she stared at a tiny television screen in absolute horror.
Her adoptive father was calmly declaring her mentally unstable and officially dead to the press.
Meanwhile, Cynthia was on screen flaunting a massive diamond ring from Haylee's own fiancé, inheriting everything that was rightfully hers.
Discarded like trash, stripped of her identity, and suddenly pregnant with a stranger's child, Haylee was forced to flee the country with nothing but a heavy silver signet ring she found in the dark.
She never understood how the family she had loved and trusted for years could erase her existence so ruthlessly.
"Are we going to see the bad people who bullied you, Mom?"
Five years later, Haylee stepped off a plane at JFK Airport, holding the hand of her genius five-year-old son.
She was no longer a helpless victim, but a top-tier medical director holding the key to a billion-dollar empire.
"We aren't running anymore," Haylee said softly, her voice laced with steel. "We're here to take everything back."
9.6
I was only three and a half years old, living in a damp basement and beaten daily by Enoch Pruitt with a heavy leather whip.
"Get up, you useless waste of space!"
He always told me I was a stray he had picked out of the garbage.
But during one brutal beating that nearly stopped my heart, time froze, and a glowing figure called The Chronicler appeared.
"You are not an abandoned orphan, Clare. You carry the blood of the highest gods."
He revealed that I was the stolen daughter of the ultra-wealthy Barrett family.
Then, he showed me the horrific ending of my previous life.
I had died right here on this bloody dirt floor.
My real parents and three brothers went completely insane with grief, turning into ruthless monsters who destroyed themselves and the entire world to avenge me.
Meanwhile, the Pruitt family kept torturing me, locking me in a woodshed and feeding me moldy bread.
The memory of my bones breaking and my real mother's agonizing screams crushed my chest.
Why did I have to suffer like an animal while my true family tore the world apart looking for me?
This time, I refused to die in the mud.
I accepted my divine blood, my eyes glowing gold as I summoned a bolt of purple lightning to strike my abuser.
I just needed to survive the night.
Because my real father's heavily armed convoy was already tearing up the mountain, ready to burn this hell to the ground.
8.2
Ashley was tied to a rusted iron pillar in an abandoned warehouse, the noxious fumes of gasoline soaking her clothes.
Her fiancé Devon and her stepsister Brittany stood before her, revealing a horrifying truth. Devon never saved her from that fatal car crash three years ago; he merely stole the credit.
Worse, Brittany smirked and confessed that Ashley's own father had orchestrated her mother's murder. Before Ashley could process the betrayal, Devon callously tossed a lighter. A wall of blistering heat instantly consumed her. Even when Bennett Hawkins, the cold and untouchable billionaire, rushed into the inferno to shield her with his body, they were both swallowed by the explosion.
As the fire melted her skin, Ashley died with agonizing hatred. Why did her own flesh and blood want her dead? What dark secret were they hiding about her mother's tragic death?
Opening her eyes again, freezing saltwater violently flooded her lungs.
She was back at her twentieth birthday yacht party, right after Brittany had secretly pushed her into the freezing Hudson River.
Staring at the hypocritical faces of her family pretending it was an accident, Ashley didn't cry or beg. She calmly snatched a phone and dialed 911.
"Yes. I need to report an attempted murder."