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 5
Cutting Kaitlin off before any word of the collaboration could even cross her lips, Andrew declared firmly, "The deal still stands. We're getting married immediately. Expect me there in thirty minutes."
Hanging up with a practiced flick of his wrist, he turned to meet Doris' wide-eyed, speechless gaze and explained, "Grandma, that setup of yours never showed. Luckily, I found a replacement-a manager over at Pioneer Group. She's sharp, stunning, and honestly, she's exactly the kind of woman you've always wanted for me."
Scrolling through his phone, he retrieved a photo of Kaitlin and held the screen out for her inspection.
Despite the flat lighting of a basic ID picture, Kaitlin's elegance was undeniable, her features aligning in a rare, poised harmony that caught the eye immediately.
"Perfect! I'm coming to the hospital with you," Doris announced, her face lighting up with a radiant, disbelieving joy that demanded physical proof.
Gently guiding her back down into her chair, Andrew urged, "Slow down. She's quite shy. Let's get the paperwork squared away first, and then I'll bring her over. We can dive into the wedding plans after that."
...
"Keep in mind that once your signature is on that paper, there's no undoing it," Andrew remarked, his voice as cold and transactional as a board meeting. "Are you absolutely certain about this?"
Nodding with a look of deep sincerity, Kaitlin took a moment to truly look at him, suddenly struck by the sharp, captivating pull of his features.
"My mind is made up, and the contract is already signed-I'll get it to you soon. I do have one request for the wedding, though. I want it on the fifteenth of next month, and I want it to be a massive affair that the whole of Zluasey talks about. Is that asking for too much?" She felt unsure. In the end, this was only a marriage of convenience, so she had no reason to expect an elaborate wedding.
To her complete astonishment, Andrew didn't even blink before answering, "Consider it done. Let's go get your gown and jewelry custom-ordered right now."
Entering the largest bridal boutique in Zluasey, Kaitlin immediately spotted Hugh sitting in the lounge area as soon as she opened the door.
Clad in a perfect suit, he was busy flipping through a magazine until the sound of the door caused him to glance up.
Kaitlin hadn't expected to run into him, and her emotions wavered for a few seconds before she quickly composed herself. Andrew was still in his car on a business call, leaving her to begin browsing styles on her own.
Looking at her with icy eyes, Hugh spoke with pure arrogance. "Kaitlin, have you no shame? Why are you following me here?"
Admittedly, his cruel words still caused a small, familiar ache deep in her chest.
Clenching her fists, she stood her ground. "You have a lot of nerve. Why would you assume I am following you?"
"What other reason would there be? You plotted against Rosalie just to force me to remember a past that I find disgusting."
He viewed their shared history as something revolting and completely beneath him.
Kaitlin fired back with her own contemptuous tone. "You are right about one thing. It is disgusting, but I am referring to you."
Hugh's expression darkened at once. He rose to his feet and closed the distance between them, step by step. "Don't push your luck, Kaitlin. I don't have the patience for you. If Rosalie sees you and gets upset, you won't like what comes next."
Laughing coldly, she brushed off his threat. "I am not obligated to follow your rules. I am here to pick out my own wedding dress."
He let out a derisive laugh, tightening his grip on her wrist. "A wedding dress? You're still holding on to the fantasy of becoming my wife? The only woman I will ever marry is Rosalie-the one who stood by me through everything, not a vicious, scheming woman like you."
"Hugh, who are you talking to?" A soft, sweet voice rang out as Rosalie's delicate face came into view.
Upon seeing Kaitlin, Rosalie's smile vanished as she stared at Hugh's hand gripping Kaitlin's wrist with a look of pure sorrow.
Disdainfully, Hugh shoved Kaitlin's hand away and hurried over to put a protective arm around Rosalie's shoulder while whispering to her.
Rubbing her sore wrist, she watched him care for the other woman and realized she felt no emotion at all.
Examining the gown Rosalie was wearing, Kaitlin frowned. "Miss Douglas, aren't you getting a custom dress? Or do you just enjoy taking things that others have already thrown away?"
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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."