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."
Chapters
Share
Chapter 7
Hugh faltered, momentarily stunned by the directness of the words.
Since his return from the island, office gossip had been relegated to whispers; no one had possessed the nerve to be so explicit. Even his inner circle had only offered cautious warnings against his cruelty toward Kaitlin.
An inexplicable sensation surged through him again, unsettling his resolve.
Rosalie bit her lip, tears beginning to track down her face. "Why are you trying to shame me like this, Mr. Evans? Look, I've been into Hugh for a long time, so when he got hurt, I was the one there taking care of him. Since when is loving someone a crime? Just because I care about him, does that mean I should be dragged through the mud and lied about by you?"
At the sight of her tears, Hugh's stoicism crumbled into a desperate need to protect her. "Mr. Evans, don't let a woman like Kaitlin play you. Seriously, she's always pulling this kind of garbage."
Kaitlin felt no urge to engage in their drama. Turning on her heel, she walked away from the duplicitous couple without a second glance.
Once inside the vehicle, she inhaled sharply and offered Andrew a regretful smile as he settled beside her.
"Thanks for sticking up for me back there," she murmured. "But I'm really not up for the dress fitting today. Let's just push it to another time."
Andrew's eyes thinned into slits. He suddenly seized her chin, forcing her face toward his until their gazes were inextricably locked.
His expression was a mask of frigid indifference, underscored by a palpable threat. "You're carrying my kid, so just keep yourself relaxed and focus on the pregnancy. Don't go losing it over trashy people like that. If something goes wrong with the baby because you're stressed, trust me—you won't like what happens next."
An involuntary shudder passed through her. Encountering that wall of icy detachment, she suppressed her emotions and adopted a subservient tone. "I get it."
She was well aware of the brutality Andrew was capable of.
A previous rival who attempted to undermine the Evans Group found their firm bankrupt within weeks; Andrew had ruthlessly acquired their devalued shares before the final collapse.
Crushed by financial ruin, the disgraced CEO had once stormed the Evans Group headquarters, shouting frantic threats.
Andrew had remained completely unmoved, and the man ultimately leapt to his death, leaving a gruesome scene on the pavement below.
The fact that such a scandalous event vanished from the Internet entirely was a testament to the absolute control Andrew exerted over the region of Zluasey.
Resigned to her fate, Kaitlin followed Andrew's orders, delivering her resignation to Pioneer Group before bracing herself for the upcoming wedding.
...
Inside a Pioneer Group office, a young man hurled a gold-trimmed invitation onto the desk, his gaze burning with frustration as he faced Hugh.
"What the hell is your problem? You lost your memory, not your damn mind. How could you actually go to the Douglases and ask for Rosalie's hand? You're seriously marrying Rosalie—what about Kaitlin? Only a year ago, you were swearing up and down that you'd give Kaitlin a proposal she'd never forget."
Hugh looked up at his friend, Killian Jones, with a steady gaze. "I know exactly who I love. And as for Kaitlin, the woman is a total pro at playing people. Don't let her pull the wool over your eyes."
Killian rolled his eyes in disbelief. "What a load of crap. You used to guard that woman like she was the most important thing on the planet. You literally went to war with your parents to marry her—you even moved out and were ready to kiss your inheritance goodbye. And now you're trying to tell me Rosalie is the one?"
Constant reminders of a history he couldn't recall had become a source of deep resentment for Hugh.
Lacking any personal connection to those memories, he had built a psychological wall against them.
"This is the last time I'm telling you. Rosalie is going to be my wife. You'd better start showing her some respect, or don't be surprised when I decide our friendship isn't worth the headache," Hugh threatened.
Killian ripped the invitation into pieces and tossed them at him. "I don't give a damn about your warnings. I'm telling you right now—if you go through with this, even if you end up crawling back to Kaitlin on your knees, she won't even look at you again."
Hugh scowled, his eyes flashing with sharp annoyance. "Are you seriously blowing up at me over some outsider? You'd better remember exactly who helped you get to the top."
Killian hadn't expected their situation to reach this point. He, too, had grown up in an orphanage, and it was only by fighting his way up alongside Hugh that he had made it to where he was today.
He was struck by the unsettling realization that the man before him was a stranger.
His once-loyal companion had transformed into a calculating and detached figure.
A knock interrupted the tense silence. Hugh's brow furrowed. "Come in," he snapped.
The door opened to reveal Kaitlin, her features a mask of stoic indifference.
She stepped forward with composure and placed the document on the desk. "I'm doing exactly what you asked, Mr. Williams. I'm resigning, and I'll make sure to stay out of Miss Douglas' way."
Keep Reading
The story is getting intense! Switch to App to
Unlock All Chapters
You may also like
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."