Too Late To Want Me Back, Ex Husband!
For five years, Elara was the "peasant" wife, the woman who gave her kidney to save Shawn's life, only to be rewarded with his cold indifference and his family's verbal abuse. She was the dutiful housewife, hiding her true identity as the world's most feared cybersecurity genius, and the secret heiress to a global empire. She stayed for love. She stayed for the hope of a family.
But hope dies in a cold swimming pool.
When Shawn pushes a pregnant Elara into the water to save his mistress, he not only breaks her heart, he kills the only thing she had left to love.
Waking up in a hospital bed with an empty womb and a frozen heart, Elara is done playing nice. As Shawn prepares to discard her for his mistress, he's met not with a weeping wife, but with the arrival of five of the most powerful men in the world-Elara's brothers.
Now, the "peasant" is the predator. While Shawn's empire begins to crumble under a mysterious cyber-attack, he finds himself desperately chasing the woman he once despised. But Elara has already moved on to a man who never had to be taught her value.
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Chapter 4
ELARA
I'm not a mean girl by nature, I promise, but seeing the look of pure, startled shock on Miranda's face at the insult made something inside me purr.
"What is the meaning of that, Elara? How can you say such a thing to your best friend? What is wrong with you?" Shawn shouted, his voice booming across the canopy.
He stepped protectively close to Miranda, whose eyes immediately blurred with fake tears. In the next breath, she buried her face against his shirt for consolation, acting as if my words had physically wounded her.
Over a simple insult?
I scoffed, my lip curling in a sneer. The sheer audacity of these fools was breathtaking.
"Is that why she would put her face against the chest of a married man?"
I made sure my voice was loud, projecting it so the surrounding guests couldn't possibly look away.
"Or is there something going on here that I'm simply not aware of?"
I caught the guilty, frantic darting of eyes between Shawn and his family-his rude, entitled sisters and his overbearing mother. The air under the canopy grew thick with the sudden, awkward silence of a possible secret being dragged into the light.
Grandpa Max, however, didn't look guilty. He looked thoughtful. And dangerously angry.
"Shawn, push that woman away from you this instant! Since when did you two become such close friends?"
I smirked, watching Shawn hesitate. He was caught in a visible tug-of-war between his grandfather's authority and his obsession with Miranda.
Yet, deep down, a sharp pain kept cracking the remains of my already shattered heart.
This was the man I had given up my life-and my health-for.
And here he was, on the verge of publicly disobeying his grandfather for the first time, all for the woman currently clinging to his buttons like a parasite.
"I doubt he would, Gramps..." I taunted, the bitterness bleeding into my tone as I fought back the tears threatening to spill. "I think they are best friends. Or maybe... they're much more."
"Shut your mouth, peasant!" Linda shrieked, her eyes unsettled. "You think you can come here and cause a scene? Father, can't you see what she's doing? This is your birthday and she is-"
"All I can see is that she is telling the truth," Grandpa Max interrupted, his voice like gravel. He stared at his grandson, who was still holding Miranda. "Are you cheating on your wife, Shawn?"
Shawn blanched, his face turning a wrong shade of pale as he shook his head quickly. He pushed Miranda away-gently, but with enough force to put distance between them that hadn't been there before.
"Of course not," he said, rushing to my side. He flung an arm around my waist, pulling me close in a way that felt more like a restraint than an embrace.
"I love Elara. She is the best wife a man could ask for. I'm just unhappy that she would insult her best friend this way, especially when Miranda only wanted to give her a hug..."
I saw Grandpa Max glance at me, looking for an explanation, but I couldn't bring myself to lie to the old man. Not today. Instead, I simply pushed the gift toward him again, my fingers trembling slightly.
"Here, Gramps. Open it."
All the while, I fought the bile rising in my throat. I wanted to shrug off Shawn's filthy arm, especially when he leaned in, a sleazy smile on his lips as he whispered into my ear.
"You look so good tonight, wife. I can't wait to strip you inch by inch when we get home..."
He nipped at my ear, a gesture that used to make me shiver with love, but now only made me feel cold.
The display seemed to placate Grandpa Max for the moment. The old man smiled broadly, his tension easing as he began to open the gift I'd brought. But that smile wavered into confusion the moment he lifted the golden pocket watch from its lining.
"Thief!" Linda shouted, her eyes flashing with a sudden, triumphant contempt.
Shawn's hand instantly fell from my waist as if I had turned to lead. He didn't even wait for me to speak before he stepped away, distancing himself from the "scandal."
"You stole Miranda's idea, didn't you? Too bad for you... she already gave Father the exact same gift!"
I frowned, my heart sinking as I looked at the table of gifts. What?
I looked at Miranda. She was tearing up again, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
Does the well in her ever run dry? I wondered, disgusted by the theatricality of it.
"I'm sorry, Elara... I shouldn't have..." Miranda whimpered.
"Don't apologize to her, my dear," Linda snapped sharply.
I looked at Miranda, my eyes narrowing into slits. "You shouldn't have what?" I needed to hear the lie she had concocted.
Miranda looked as though I had sucker-punched her. She shook her head frantically and dissolved into fresh, loud sobs. I wanted to throw up my hands at the sheer performance of it all.
"One more word, Elara, and I will cut that sharp tongue right out of your mouth! How dare you bring a fake gift to Grandpa? There is only one of these in the entire state!" Claire, Shawn's elder sister, snapped, stepping forward like a guard dog.
I ignored her completely and turned to Grandpa Max, my voice steady. "Is your friend here? The one who owns the jewelry company?"
Grandpa Max raised a brow, obviously curious. After all, in all the years he knew me, I never fought back, never defended myself.
He beckoned to a staff member, but before anyone could move, Arthur-the owner of Becketts Jewelry-stepped out of the watching crowd.
Without a word, he took the pocket watch from Grandpa Max's hand, weighing it in his palm for a long, silent moment. He pulled a jeweler's loupe from his pocket and inspected the gears. Then, he looked up and smiled.
"This one is the real one. 100% authentic. It's the masterpiece I personally engraved." He then glanced at Miranda's gift on the table. "That one... is a high-quality counterfeit."
Shocked murmurs rippled through the guests like a tidal wave. Even Shawn stared at Miranda, his mouth slightly agape, the shock of her failure written all over his face.
"I... maybe she exchanged it?" Miranda stammered, her voice thin, desperate, and cracking.
I scoffed, stepping closer to her. "Give up the charade, Miranda. You've been found out."
She shook her head, looking to Shawn for help, but Grandpa Max had seen enough. The old man's face was like stone.
"Get her out of here!"
The guards moved to drag her away, but I felt a sudden, burning urge to speak to her myself, to see the mask slip completely. I raised a hand, stopping them.
I tapped her lightly on the shoulder and walked out of the canopy toward the back of the estate, knowing her pride and her desperation would force her to follow me.
We ended up by the edge of the massive swimming pool, the water dark and still under the moon, reflecting the cold light of the stars.
But before I could get a single word of my victory out, the woman flung herself into the pool.
I stood there, paralyzed by the sheer shock of it-the stillness of the night only breaking when she started screaming for help, thrashing in the water as if she were being pulled down by a monster.
Immediately, Shawn appeared. He ran toward the water like he had been standing in the shadows, waiting for his cue.
I wondered, with a sick, sinking feeling in my stomach, if she had planned this entire thing, if maybe she had gestured that he should follow her...
He dove in without hesitation. He pulled her out just as quick, and when she finally gasped for breath after he performed a panicked first aid, he lunged toward me.
He gripped my arm so hard I knew it would leave a permanent bruise.
"What is wrong with you?!" he screamed in my face, his eyes wild with a terrifying, unhinged rage. "Do you want to kill her? You know she can't swim!"
The lie was so absurd I actually laughed.
Because I knew for a fact that Miranda could swim.
"You are really such a pawn..." I laughed some more, shaking my head at him as the moonlight caught the tears I refused to let fall. "You are a pathetic, blind pawn, Shawn."
"You really expect me to believe you didn't push her?" Shawn's mouth worked in silent anger, his face contorting into something monstrous.
Before I could even think to defend myself, he shoved me into the pool.
He shoved me with all his strength toward the deep end. Knowing I couldn't swim. Knowing about the trauma of the water that lived in my very bones.
I hit the water and sank like a stone. Then I came up for air once, screaming for help, my lungs burning... but no one seemed to hear.
Instead, I watched through blurred, stinging eyes as he lifted Miranda into his arms and walked away toward the lights of the party, never once looking back.
He was going to leave me here to die.
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7.2
For three years, I was imprisoned by Anderson Hopper, the monster who forced me to watch my fiancé, Kendall, plummet into a freezing river.
But when I saw the morning news, I realized Kendall wasn't dead. He had returned as Eben Gill, a ruthless tech billionaire.
I risked my life to escape and find him, only to be met with eyes full of absolute hatred.
He publicly humiliated me, dragged me to the exact bridge where he "died," and sneered at the C-section scar on my stomach.
"Anderson Hopper's bastard," he spat, completely unaware that the baby was actually his—the very child Anderson had murdered in the operating room to break me.
To make matters worse, Anderson used Kendall's dying mother as a hostage to force me back into my cage.
I knelt on the freezing asphalt, begging the man I loved to just visit his mother, while he coldly ordered his driver to run me over.
I had lost my baby, my freedom, and my dignity, all to protect him from Anderson's blackmail. Why was I the one being tortured and treated like a traitor?
"Don't think your little kneeling stunt earned you my forgiveness."
He whispered those cruel words before walking away without looking back.
Staring at his cold, retreating figure, the last shred of my love finally turned to ash.
That night, under the cover of a torrential storm, I bypassed the estate's laser grids and walked out into the dark.
8.2
Karmen lived suffocating under a tight chest binder and a grotesque silicone scar, forced to disguise herself as her degenerate twin brother, Kem. Her only job was to maintain a fake corporate engagement with the ruthless billionaire Earl Calderon.
But her abusive father suddenly escalated his demands. He ordered her to steal Earl's revolutionary AI patents, threatening to cut off her mother's life-saving medical trust and abandon the real Kem in a locked Swiss psych ward if she failed.
The task was a death sentence. Earl absolutely despised "Kem." He treated her like a repulsive parasite, constantly threatening to break her neck. When he accidentally caught her without her wig, he mistook her for a deranged cross-dresser, forcing her to glue the dirty fake scar back onto her raw, inflamed face in sheer disgust. At home, her father hurled glass ashtrays at her, violently yanking her collar.
"Do whatever you have to do in that bedroom, Kem. I don't care how disgusting it is. Just get the signature."
Trapped between a fiancé who loathed her very existence and a father ready to sacrifice their family for greed, Karmen endured the agonizing physical pain of her disguise. She was exhausted, terrified, and running out of time as her brother's life hung by a thread.
But they all underestimated her. When the Calderon matriarch forced Earl to link his ultra-secure private phone with "Kem" to fake their romance, she unwittingly handed over the master key. Karmen wasn't just a helpless victim; she was the elite hacker Nyx, and she was going to tear their empire apart from the inside.
9.2
Arla was supposed to marry Clinton Freeman, the perfect fiancé who had promised to love her and protect her five-year-old son.
But instead, the cold steel of a dagger pierced her chest.
As she collapsed onto the freezing basement floor, she watched her adoptive sister Blair laugh.
"Look at her," Blair sneered, kicking her son's small, blue, lifeless body.
Clinton stood there, calmly wiping the bloody blade on a pristine handkerchief.
In her dying moments, the horrifying truth became clear. Her fiancé and her adoptive family had been plotting all along to steal her massive trust fund.
To break her, they had secretly tortured her child. Clinton had watched Blair pierce the little boy's arms with sewing needles, rewarding him with candy to keep him silent.
Arla's lungs burned with the taste of copper and ash.
She couldn't understand why the family she trusted could be so monstrous, or why they had to brutally murder an innocent child just for money.
The darkness swallowed her whole, drowning her in suffocating hatred and absolute despair.
Then, she gasped for air.
The concrete floor was gone, replaced by the silk sheets of a hotel penthouse suite.
Arla had been reborn to the exact night six years ago—the very day Blair first dragged her son into the dark attic.
This time, she picked up a solid silver letter opener, ready to burn them all to the ground.
7.1
For six years, I was the perfect, obedient wife to billionaire Hartwell Ware, enduring his coldness because I thought my love could eventually thaw his heart.
Then, my friend sent me a photo. Hartwell was at the airport, tenderly holding the waist of his first love, Eveline Craig.
He came home smelling of her synthetic rose perfume, accused me of stalking him, and coldly demanded a divorce.
His lawyer handed me a thick settlement agreement. It offered astronomical alimony and luxury properties, but it came with a humiliating ten-page non-disclosure agreement.
He wanted to buy my silence. He wanted to strip me of my rights to our son and gag me permanently, just so he could parade his new life with Eveline without any PR backlash.
Even now, he still thought I was a gold digger who had orchestrated a media scandal to trap him into marriage.
I stared at the man I had worshipped for two thousand days. My six years of desperate devotion had been nothing but a humiliating, one-sided delusion.
Hope was finally dead, and with it, my tears had completely dried up.
He expected me to cry, to beg, to negotiate for more millions.
Instead, I snatched the pen, crossed out the massive alimony, and signed my name on the dotted line.
"I am taking the basic child support, and not a single red cent more."
Leaving my five-carat diamond ring on the marble table, I walked out the door with nothing but my old suitcase.
7.5
I spent ten years blindly devoted to my husband, Kyler, building a perfect life together.
When I went into premature labor, he held my hand and promised everything would be fine.
But the moment I woke up in the VIP delivery room, the doctor coldly declared my newborn daughter dead.
Kyler rushed in, his face a mask of grief, insisting on taking her body away immediately to handle the arrangements.
If I hadn't heard my supposedly dead baby's telepathic voice echoing in my head, I would have handed her over.
She told me Kyler had poisoned my prenatal vitamins to induce early labor.
He bribed the medical team to fake her death so he could harvest her rare stem cells to save his sick mistress.
And worse, he had pulled the security detail from our eight-year-old son's school.
He was letting cartel kidnappers take my boy just to force me to sign over my family's billionaire trust fund.
The man I kissed every morning was a monster wearing my husband's skin.
How could he smile at me while planning to murder our children and drain my family's wealth?
The sheer terror and betrayal tore my heart into a thousand jagged pieces.
But I didn't scream or confront him.
Instead, I faked a hysterical breakdown, clutched my baby tight, and quietly contacted my family's private mercenary team.
"File the injunctions. I want him destroyed by morning."
8.7
Adelia thought she was just heading upstairs to rest in the hotel suite arranged by her caring stepsister.
But her champagne had been heavily drugged. In the pitch-black room, her rational thoughts melted away as she was violently pulled into the darkness by a terrifying stranger.
The next morning, the heavy suite door was kicked open, and blinding camera flashes shattered her world.
Her fiancé stormed in, hurling their prenuptial agreement directly at her bleeding cheek.
"You make me sick! Violating our agreement like this. You are a disgusting, unfaithful whore!"
Her stepsister squeezed to the front of the crowd, crying perfectly rehearsed tears of horror for the tabloid reporters, while her eyes gleamed with pure, unadulterated triumph.
Desperate and trembling, Adelia begged her father for help, explaining she had been framed.
But her father, the family CEO, only cared about his plummeting stock prices. He coldly stripped her of her inheritance, froze her trust funds, and had massive security guards physically drag her out of Manhattan.
She hadn't just been betrayed; she had been completely slaughtered by the people she loved most. As the elevator plummeted toward the lobby, her tears dried into a bloody, silent vow.
Six years later, Adelia stepped out of JFK Airport, flanked by her terrifyingly smart six-year-old twins.
She was no longer a disgraced, pathetic victim. She had returned as a legendary, untouchable ghost surgeon, ready to rip her family's empire apart.
And her very first move involves saving the life of the ruthless Wall Street predator who ruined her that night.