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 6
The gown Rosalie currently wore was no ordinary boutique find; it was a custom masterpiece Hugh had commissioned from an elite designer a year ago, specifically tailored for Kaitlin's frame.
During its creation, he had been obsessed, checking in with the designer every other day to oversee everything from the silhouette's taper to the exact geometry of the gemstone embellishments.
At the time, he had vowed to give Kaitlin a wedding that would spark envy in everyone who saw it-yet here was that same promise, draped over Rosalie's shoulders.
"I'm so sorry... I had no idea. I just found it gorgeous and wanted to put it on. I'm so sorry, Hugh," Rosalie stammered with a faux-apologetic air, though the look she shot Kaitlin was pure, concentrated venom.
The slight was entirely calculated; Rosalie had never moved past the humiliation of being rejected by Hugh years ago while he was pursuing Kaitlin.
Now, she wasn't content with simply wearing Kaitlin's wedding dress and being with her fiance-she intended to destroy Kaitlin's life altogether, turn everyone against her, and leave her with nothing at all.
Hugh's expression turned stone-cold. "I gave her permission, Kaitlin. You're on your way out of Pioneer Group, so stop clinging to the past. If you're going to come here and harass Rosalie, then don't expect me to be polite. Apologize to her. Now."
Roughly seizing Kaitlin's wrist, he yanked her forward until she was forced to stand face-to-face with Rosalie.
Meeting his furious glare without blinking, Kaitlin realized that once the rose-tinted glasses were gone, Hugh didn't deserve a single ounce of her affection.
"I'll give her an apology, but only after I've finished one more task."
She brushed past them and requested a pair of heavy fabric scissors from the startled clerk.
Gripping the shears, she stepped back toward the couple, a chillingly faint smile touching her lips.
Before either could move to stop her, she drove the blades through the silk, slicing the intricate patterns right down the middle.
In a matter of seconds, the multi-million dollar masterpiece was reduced to nothing more than expensive scrap fabric.
As she looked at them, Kaitlin's face showed none of the heartbreak of the past-only the cold, hard edges of a woman who was finally done.
The sharp, metallic snap of the shears finally broke the stunned silence, jolting Rosalie back to reality.
Shaking violently, she let out a piercing scream, her face losing all color as she threw herself into Hugh's arms. "Do something! She's lost her mind!"
Hugh's features twisted with fury; he stepped in front of Rosalie to shield her and shoved Kaitlin.
Nearby, the bridal shop staff watched in paralyzed terror; they had been the ones to hand over the scissors, and they were already panicking about whether they'd be held financially responsible for the ruined gown.
Kaitlin stumbled back from the force of the shove and she began to lose her balance.
She instinctively braced for a painful impact with the floor, but instead felt a firm, warm hand catch her by the waist and pull her upright.
"It seems my timing is impeccable. This is quite the performance," Andrew remarked, his tone laced with dark amusement. "Honestly, Kaitlin, I had no idea your standards were so low. You actually settled for a man like that?"
Andrew was a man who commanded respect, and while his ties to Kaitlin had once been strictly professional, their new personal alliance meant he wouldn't stand by while another man dragged her through the mud.
Kaitlin blinked, her long lashes fluttering as she breathed out a soft, "Thank you."
Hugh tightened his grip on Rosalie, his face contorted with rage. "So, it's you, Mr. Evans. Let's get one thing straight. Rosalie is the love of my life. Kaitlin is just a manipulative gold-digger who plays games to get ahead. You'd be wise to keep your distance unless you want her clinging to you."
Though Kaitlin had heard his insults a thousand times, the cruelty of his words still managed to sting.
Letting out a dry, bitter laugh, she looked at Hugh with the cold detachment one might show a stranger. "I'm sorry for the mess I made. But truly, you two are a perfect match-a man with zero discernment and a woman who is utterly repulsive. I hope you enjoy spending the rest of your lives together."
Andrew arched an eyebrow, a mocking smirk playing on his lips as he piled on. "Wait, I seem to recall a headline about a Miss Douglas being publicly rejected and left in tears. My memory must be failing me-surely you aren't the same woman who crawled her way into Kaitlin's position as the 'other woman'?"
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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."