Login to MoboReader
Home / Modern / Too Late For Regret: My Lost Heir
icon 0
icon TOP UP
rightIcon
icon Reading History
rightIcon
icon Sign out
rightIcon
icon Get the APP
rightIcon

Home

Genre

Ranking

Short Stories

Too Late For Regret: My Lost Heir

Too Late For Regret: My Lost Heir

Norrra
Modern | Ongoing
5.0
Comment(s)
4.5K
View
300
Chapters

I spent three years being the perfect, quiet wife to Julian Sterling, dimming my own light to fit into his cold Manhattan penthouse. On our anniversary, I sat in the dark with a secret that would change our lives forever-I was finally pregnant with the heir he always wanted. But Julian didn't come home to celebrate. He threw divorce papers on the table and told me his first love, Harper, was dying of stage four cancer. "It is her last wish," Julian said, his voice cold and detached. "She wants to be Mrs. Sterling before she dies. It is the only thing she has ever wanted." I signed the papers and walked away without taking a dime of his billions, but fate wasn't done with me. A few days later, our paths crossed in a crowded hospital lobby. Julian, blinded by his need to protect Harper from the paparazzi, saw me as an obstacle in their way. To clear a path for her, he shoved me aside with enough force to send me flying. I hit the sharp corner of a marble desk and collapsed. As I lay on the floor, I watched Julian hesitate for a fraction of a second before choosing to comfort a wailing Harper instead of helping me. He held her hand while I bled out on the cold stone, losing the child he never even knew I was carrying. In the operating room, the truth finally came to light: Harper wasn't dying. She was faking her symptoms with bribes and stage makeup, and Julian had sacrificed his own son's life for a performance. When he showed up at my bedside crying and begging for a second chance, I realized that the woman he married was gone. I pulled off my platinum wedding ring and dropped it onto the metal tray with a hollow clink. "Take it," I whispered. "It is too heavy. I cannot carry it anymore." Julian thinks he has lost a wife, but he has actually created a storm. I am no longer the quiet girl he broke; I am a Vanderbilt, and I am going to burn his entire world to the ground for what he did to my baby.

Revenge Pregnancy Comeback Revenge Pregnancy
Chapter 300 300
01-19 15:21

Chapter 1 1

The rain against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Manhattan penthouse did not sound like water. It sounded like gravel being thrown against the glass, hard and relentless. Seraphina sat on the velvet armchair that she had picked out three years ago, her back straight, her hands folded in her lap. The fabric was cold under her fingertips.

She stared at the calendar notification on her phone screen. It was glowing in the dark room. October 14th. Three years.

The sound of the biometric lock engaging made a mechanical whir that cut through the sound of the storm. The heavy oak door pushed open. A gust of cold, damp air rushed into the living room, carrying the smell of ozone and exhaust.

Julian walked in.

He did not look at her. He stripped off his trench coat, the wet fabric heavy with rain. Water dripped from the hem onto the marble entryway, creating small, dark puddles that distorted the reflection of the overhead recessed lighting.

Seraphina stood up. Her legs felt stiff. She walked toward him, her hand reaching out instinctively to take the wet coat. It was a habit. A muscle memory built over a thousand days of being his wife.

Julian sidestepped her.

It was a small movement. A shift of his shoulder, a pivot of his heel. But in the quiet room, it felt like a slap. He walked past her outstretched hand as if she were a piece of furniture he needed to navigate around. He went straight to the liquor cabinet.

The crystal decanter clinked against the glass as he poured. The amber liquid swirled, rising to the rim. He did not add ice. He brought the glass to his lips and drank half of it in one swallow, his back turned to her. His shoulders were tense, the muscles visible even through his white dress shirt.

Seraphina watched him. She saw the tension in his neck. Then she saw it.

On the collar of his shirt, just above the starch line. A smudge of red.

It was not a bright, cherry red. It was a deep, dark crimson. It looked like a bruise against the pristine white fabric. Seraphina felt a phantom scent hit her-sandalwood and heavy, cloying roses. It wasn't a perfume she owned. It was the scent of a woman who wanted to be noticed, a scent that clung. She didn't need to know the brand to know what it meant.

Julian lowered the glass. He turned around slowly. His eyes were dark, rimmed with exhaustion, but there was a hardness in them that she had never seen directed at her. He reached into his leather briefcase and pulled out a thick document.

He threw it on the coffee table.

The sound was heavy. A dull thud that vibrated through the marble floor. The document slid across the smooth surface and came to a stop just inches from Seraphina's knees. The bold black letters on the cover were perfectly legible even in the dim light.

Divorce Settlement.

Seraphina felt a high-pitched ringing in her ears. It sounded like a tea kettle left on the boil for too long. She looked up from the paper to his face.

We need to talk, Julian said. His voice was rough, like he had been shouting or smoking.

Seraphina opened her mouth. She wanted to say that dinner was in the oven. She wanted to say that she had bought him the watch he wanted for their anniversary. But the words felt like dry stones in her throat.

Harper is dying, Julian said.

The ringing in Seraphina's ears stopped abruptly, replaced by a vacuum of silence.

She has six months, Julian continued. He did not blink. Maybe less. It is stage four. Her stomach.

Seraphina looked at the smudge of lipstick on his collar. It looked like a wound.

So you are divorcing me because she is sick, Seraphina said. Her voice sounded strange to her own ears. Flat. Detached.

It is her last wish, Julian said. He took another sip of whiskey, draining the glass. She is scared, Sera. She has no one. She wants to be Mrs. Sterling before she dies. It is the only thing she has ever wanted.

The only thing she has ever wanted.

Seraphina thought about the last three years. She thought about the way she had learned to cook his favorite risotto. The way she had charmed his difficult board members. The way she had hidden her own music, her own name, her own fire, just to be the perfect, quiet wife he needed.

I will give you everything, Julian said, misinterpreting her silence. The penthouse in Tribeca. The summer house in the Hamptons. A monthly allowance that will let you live in luxury for the rest of your life. I am being generous.

He was buying her displacement. He was paying for his conscience.

Seraphina looked down at the papers. She did not open the folder. She did not read the terms. She did not care about the numbers.

She picked up the Montblanc pen that sat on the table. The metal was cool against her skin.

Julian frowned. His eyebrows pulled together. He had expected a fight. He had brought his lawyers' arguments, his justifications, his guilt wrapped in anger. He was not prepared for silence.

Seraphina uncapped the pen. She looked him in the eye.

If she were not sick, she asked softly. If she were healthy. Would you still be doing this?

Julian froze. His hand tightened around the empty glass. For five seconds, the only sound in the room was the rain hammering against the glass. He looked away, toward the window, toward the city lights that blurred in the storm.

There is no if, Julian said. She needs me.

It was not a no.

Seraphina felt something inside her chest snap. It was not a loud break. It was quiet, like a thread finally giving way under too much weight. The pain was so sharp it was almost blinding, but then, instantly, it was gone. Replaced by a cold, gray numbness.

She lowered the pen to the paper.

She did not read the non-disclosure agreement. She did not check the alimony clause. She simply wrote her name on the signature line. The ink flowed smoothly, dark and permanent.

Seraphina Vanderbilt Sterling.

She stared at the name for a second. It would be the last time she wrote it.

She capped the pen and pushed the document back across the table toward him.

I do not want your compensation, she said. I just want it to be over. Effective immediately.

Julian stared at the signature. He looked unsettled. He reached for the papers, his movements jerky.

My lawyers will contact you, he said. He sounded annoyed. As if her compliance was more irritating than her resistance would have been.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. A specific ringtone. A soft, melodic chime.

Julian's face changed instantly. The hardness evaporated, replaced by a look of tender, desperate concern. He pulled the phone out and answered it before it could ring a second time.

I am coming, he said into the phone. His voice was a whisper she had not heard in years. Don't be afraid. I am on my way.

He shoved the phone back into his pocket. He grabbed his keys off the console table. He turned and walked back toward the door, grabbing his wet coat.

He did not look back. He did not say goodbye. He did not say sorry.

The heavy door clicked shut. The lock whirred again.

Seraphina stood alone in the center of the vast living room. The silence rushed back in, heavy and suffocating.

Then, her stomach turned.

It was a violent, sudden lurch. A wave of nausea that started in her gut and rose to her throat. She clamped her hand over her mouth and ran toward the guest bathroom.

She barely made it. She fell to her knees on the cold tile floor, clutching the porcelain rim of the toilet, and retched. Her body shook with the force of it.

She dry heaved until her throat burned and her eyes watered. When it finally stopped, she slumped back against the cabinet, gasping for air. She looked at her reflection in the mirror across the room. Her skin was the color of paper. Her eyes were hollow.

But under the sickness, under the heartbreak, something else was waking up. A cold, hard resolve.

Continue Reading

Other books by Norrra

More
You Chose Her, Now Watch Me Disappear

You Chose Her, Now Watch Me Disappear

Mafia

5.0

On our fifth anniversary, my husband Dante gave me a unique gift: he burned my business to the ground. Why? Because a shopkeeper had been rude to Sofia, the fragile ward he swore to protect. While I waited in our penthouse, he was comforting her in front of the flames. But that was just the beginning. When I finally snapped and confronted Sofia for mocking our marriage, she cut her own arm and screamed for help. Dante didn't hesitate. He shot me. He put a bullet through my hand to save her. Then, to "discipline" me, he dragged me to the cellar and waterboarded me—using my deepest trauma against me—until I admitted to a crime I didn't commit. I endured it all, thinking he still loved me in his twisted way. Until the day we were ambushed at the docks. The enemy held a gun to my head and a knife to Sofia’s throat. "Choose," the gunman said. "The Queen or the Ward?" Dante looked at me. He calculated that I was strong enough to survive, but Sofia would break. "Let the girl go," he said. He watched as the gunman pulled the trigger on me. As I fell backward into the freezing ocean, bleeding from a chest wound, Dante screamed my name. He thought he had killed me. He didn't know I was wearing a Kevlar vest. He didn't know that while he was mourning his dead wife, I was already planning my escape. Dante Moretti thinks his Queen is dead. I intend to keep it that way.

The Fixer's Secret: Taming My Husband

The Fixer's Secret: Taming My Husband

Modern

5.0

I spent three years playing the role of the perfect, silent wife to Julian Sterling, the most volatile billionaire in Manhattan. To the world, I was just a socialite; in reality, I was a high-stakes crisis negotiator known as "The Fixer," living a double life to survive a marriage that was nothing more than a cold, clinical contract. The illusion shattered when Julian publicly humiliated me at his private club, flaunting his mistress while his mother issued a brutal ultimatum: produce an heir by next week, or my family's remaining assets would be wiped out. But the true betrayal lay hidden in a secret file in my parents' safe. I wasn't chosen for love or status; I was a "genetic stabilizer," a biological filter purchased to breed the mental instability out of the Sterling bloodline. My own parents had sold me like a lab rat, trading my life to unfreeze their bank accounts. Julian treated me like a "slab of meat" while chasing the ghost of a woman named Seraphina, and my mother-in-law viewed my womb as nothing more than a corporate asset. I realized then that every person I had ever trusted had placed a bounty on my DNA. "I'm not jealous, Julian," I told him as he pinned me down in a hospital room, his eyes wild with the Sterling madness. "I'm just the one holding the bill." When a secret request came in for a "ghost negotiator" to defend Sterling Industries against a hostile takeover, I didn't turn it down. They had no idea that the elite specialist they were hiring to save their empire was the same wife they had spent years trying to break. I'm done being the cure for this family. This time, I'm the poison, and I'm going to make sure they pay every cent they owe me.

From Rejected Omega To The Royal White Wolf

From Rejected Omega To The Royal White Wolf

Werewolf

5.0

I stood in the rain, watching my ex-mate place fresh white roses next to a toxic silver chain on my headstone. The epitaph read *Beloved Daughter*, which was laughable. Five years ago, I called my father from a mangled car wreckage, bleeding out. Instead of sending an ambulance, he asked if the car was salvageable. Then Clayton took the phone. He didn't offer help. He used the Alpha Command to reject me while I was dying, all because I was a "weak" wolf and his new favorite, Ainsley, needed his attention. They left me to die in the gutter to protect their reputation. Tonight, I walked into their desperate charity gala, wearing a dress worth more than their entire failing pack. My father didn't weep with relief at my resurrection. He looked at me like a stain on his carpet. "You ungrateful brat!" my aunt shrieked, slapping me across the face hard enough to draw blood. "You were supposed to stay dead! You're ruining Ainsley's night!" They signaled security to dump me in the alley, thinking I was still the powerless girl they broke. They didn't notice the air in the ballroom turn heavy with ozone. They didn't feel the crushing weight of a true predator entering the room. Until the double doors exploded inward. A man with eyes like molten gold stepped through the dust, his terrifying aura forcing every wolf in the room to their knees. He looked at the red mark on my cheek and let out a roar that shook the chandeliers. "WHO TOUCHED MY MATE?!" My father trembled on the floor, looking between the enraged Alpha King and me. "Mate? But... she is nothing." I smiled, my eyes flashing silver. "Hello, husband," I whispered. "Let the execution begin."

Betrayal's Cost: A Husband's Revenge

Betrayal's Cost: A Husband's Revenge

Billionaires

5.0

Ethan Hayes was in a late-night board meeting, his tech empire soaring, built on logic and precision. Meanwhile, his beautiful socialite wife, Amelia, was at another party, her laughter echoing, a champagne flute always in hand. He valued loyalty; she had other agendas. That night, a tagged photo on social media confirmed his long-held dread: Amelia, head on a younger man's shoulder, Leo Vance, an art student. This wasn't the first time, but it was the most blatant betrayal. He drove to their penthouse, only to find Amelia and Leo tangled on the couch, laughing. "Ethan. You're home early." Her voice was cool, dismissive. "Don't be scared, Leo. He won't do anything," she whispered, loud enough for him to hear. The final nail in the coffin of their marriage. The next day, what little rage he expected to feel was absent. Just cold clarity. He was done pretending. He met Dr. Maya Sharma, an astrophysics candidate his foundation was sponsoring. Brilliant, resilient, and unfairly defunded. "The truth is, your funding was specifically pulled and given to another, less promising project. Why did you lie about that?" He pressed. Maya confessed her funding went to Leo Vance, because Amelia, on the university board, had pulled strings. The humiliation deepened when he found Leo Vance, Amelia's lover, smugly preening in his private closet, wearing his silk robe. "She said you wouldn't mind. That you're used to sharing." The insult, casually delivered, hit harder than any blow. He wanted to scream. He was a man who valued control, and Amelia had turned him into a spectacle in his own home. He had become a stranger, an invisible guest. He had endured her betrayals for years, choosing convenience over self-respect, and now he was paying the price. But a new path had opened. He funded Maya' s project, and with a cold, calculated smile, set a plan in motion to reclaim his life. "Enjoy the penthouse," he' d told Amelia. "I won't be needing it anymore." This was his fight, and he was ready.

Father's Day: A Slap In Public

Father's Day: A Slap In Public

Modern

5.0

Father' s Day usually means family, gifts, and forced smiles. As an architect, I build strong foundations, but my relationship with my father felt like glass. This year, I was going to his studio apartment, not just with a gift, but to retrieve my mother' s vintage watch-the last thing I had of hers. But before I even got inside, a call shattered the fragile peace. "Brenda," my father' s new, live-in girlfriend, was already on the offensive. She claimed the watch was hers, a "payment" for her "service." My father, when I finally reached him, only sighed-that familiar, weary sound of avoidance. He defended her, told me to calm down, and refused to get involved. "Just… not today, Olivia. Let' s not fight on Father' s Day." The humiliation only escalated a few days later, at my daughter Lily' s elementary school art fair. Brenda and her sullen son, Chad, launched a public attack, accusing me of trying to steal from my "poor, sick father." Their performance drew stares and whispers, painting me as the heartless, ungrateful daughter. Then, with my daughter trembling by my leg, Brenda threw herself to the ground, screaming that I had pushed her. Chad lunged, ready to strike, but my husband, Mark, intervened. Just as I was trying to leave, Brenda grabbed my ankle, shrieking, "You' re not going anywhere!" Suddenly, my father appeared. Relief surged, thinking he would stop this madness, defend me. Instead, he rushed to Brenda' s side, asking, "Are you okay, my love?" Then, his eyes cold with disappointment, he turned to me. "Olivia, how could you do this to Brenda?" -and he slapped me. In public. In front of my daughter. As I stood there, reeling, Brenda, clinging to his arm, cooed, "Tell her, darling, tell your ungrateful daughter the truth." My father looked at me, his face hard, unforgiving. "Brenda is not my girlfriend, Olivia," he declared. "She' s my wife. We got married last month." The world tilted. My own mother' s watch, a wedding gift to this woman? He actually looked me in the eye and said, "If you want to remain my daughter, you will respect my wife and you will forget about that watch." "Or you can keep fighting, and you can consider yourself disowned," he paused, letting the threat hang. "The choice is yours." A cold, clear calm settled over me. There was nothing left to fight for. I pulled out my phone, opened my banking app, and looked him dead in the eye. "How much is it worth?" I asked. "The watch. How much do you want for it? Name a price. I' ll buy it from your wife." His face went pale as Brenda whispered a price in his ear. "Fifty thousand dollars," he choked out. "Done," I said, showing him the confirmation screen. "For my own mother' s watch. Now it' s mine again." The gift, the illusion, the pretense of family-all gone. My father made his choice. Now, it was time for me to make mine.

Shadowed By Her, Now Free

Shadowed By Her, Now Free

Romance

5.0

For seven years, I lived in Chloe Adams' s shadow, the architect of her fame, ghostwriting her witty captions and composing jingles, content to be the loyal friend. Then, at her engagement party, Chloe announced her new brand deal, her arm linked with reality TV star Brody Hayes. "It' s time for you to find your own spotlight, you know? Away from me." Her casual dismissal, meant to be a gentle nudge, landed like a physical blow, firing me from her life. Everyone in the room watched, waiting for me to nod, to accept my role as Chloe' s devoted groupie. But something inside me snapped. "No," I said, the word cutting through the celebratory hum like glass. Chloe' s perfect smile faltered. "I' m just done. Done writing your posts, done composing your jingles, done being your shadow." Her face blotched red, the gracious influencer replaced by a furious toddler. "You can' t be 'done' !" she hissed. "I' m not done with you!" I thought I was finally free, but her fury escalated. She shoved me, then roared, "Your parents gave me a key years ago, remember? What' s yours is mine." I rushed home to find my sanctuary invaded, my studio defiled. A stranger strummed my grandfather' s prized vintage Martin guitar, another giggled, scrolling through my private files. Rage burned through me. As I called 911, Brody snatched my phone and smashed it. "He thinks he' s so much better than us just because his parents have money," Brody declared, manipulating the crowd. Chloe' s eyes blazed. I felt a sharp sting as she slapped me, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth. Helpless, I watched as she grabbed a bottle of sticky red liqueur and upended it over my head. Laughter and jeers erupted, phones flashing, recording my humiliation. Then, I saw it: Brody wore my mother' s hand-carved wooden bird necklace, a sacred link to her memory. "Chloe gave it to me. Said it was just some trinket she found lying around. A good luck charm." "It' s a cheap piece of wood. Stop making a scene over nothing. You' re embarrassing yourself." My mother' s last gift, the most precious thing I owned, dismissed as "nothing." A raw, desperate cry escaped me. "That was my mother' s. It was a gift from my dead mother!" Her face went dead white. "You shut your mouth!" she shrieked, striking my head. Brody whispered to Chloe, eyes on my open laptop. "His laptop is still on. The application portal is still open." My college applications. My future. "NO!" I screamed, struggling against the men holding me. "Don' t you touch that!" But I was forced to watch as Chloe, with a cruel smile, clicked, erasing my Yale application, my entire dream. "This is Yale," she snarled, holding up my laptop before letting it smash to the floor. A piece of the broken screen sliced my cheek, the warm trickle of blood a final punctuation. "The application deadline is in fifteen minutes," Brody chimed. "Tough luck, man." Hope died. "Lock him in the basement until morning." The basement. My deepest, primal fear. "Chloe, no. Please. Not the basement. Do anything else. Please!" I begged, dignity gone. But Brody' s whisper sealed my fate: "He' ll ruin everything." Chloe' s eyes hardened to stone. "Do it." They dragged me, struggling, pleading, towards the yawning black maw. I tumbled down the creaking stairs, landing on the cold, damp concrete. The door slammed shut above me. The click of the lock echoed in the suffocating darkness. I woke in a hospital bed, Maria, our housekeeper, explaining she' d found me. My parents burst in, back from Paris. "I' m so sorry we let this happen. We brought a monster into our home. Into your life." "It' s okay, Dad. She didn' t ruin anything." "I got my acceptance letter from Juilliard two months ago. A full scholarship." The only thing Chloe destroyed last night was the last bit of affection I had for her. Thousands of miles away, Chloe' s card was declined. She tried to call me. Voicemail. She tried again. Voicemail. She swore I was playing games. Meanwhile, at Juilliard, I stood on stage. "You are the protagonist of your own life. Don' t ever let anyone else hold the pen." Chloe Adams, abandoned and broke, would keep waiting for me to come crawling back.

You'll also like

The Mute Heiress's Fake Marriage Pact

The Mute Heiress's Fake Marriage Pact

Alma
5.0

I was finally brought back to the billionaire Vance estate after years in the grimy foster system, but the luxury Lincoln felt more like a funeral procession. My biological family didn't welcome me with open arms; they looked at me like a stain on a silk shirt. They thought I was a "defective" mute with cognitive delays, a spare part to be traded away. Within hours of my arrival, my father decided to sell me to Julian Thorne, a bitter, paralyzed heir, just to secure a corporate merger. My sister Tiffany treated me like trash, whispering for me to "go back to the gutter" before pouring red wine over my dress in front of Manhattan's elite. When a drunk cousin tried to lay hands on me at the engagement gala, my grandmother didn't protect me-she raised her silver-topped cane to strike my face for "embarrassing the family." They called me a sacrificial lamb, laughing as they signed the prenuptial agreement that stripped me of my freedom. They had no idea I was E-11, the underground hacker-artist the world was obsessed with, or that I had already breached their private servers. I found the hidden medical records-blood types A, A, and B-a biological impossibility that proved my "parents" were harboring a scandal that could ruin them. Why bring me back just to discard me again? And why was Julian Thorne, the man supposedly bound to a wheelchair, secretly running miles at dawn on his private estate? Standing in the middle of the ballroom, I didn't plead for mercy. I used a text-to-speech app to broadcast a cold, synthetic threat: "I have the records, Richard. Do you want me to explain genetics to the press, or should we leave quietly?" With the "paralyzed" billionaire as my unexpected accomplice, I walked out of the Vance house and into a much more dangerous game.

Brilliance Unmasked: The Cold-Blooded Tycoon Wants His Vengeful Queen

Brilliance Unmasked: The Cold-Blooded Tycoon Wants His Vengeful Queen

Renard Jendrock
4.9

Arabella, a state-trained prodigy, won freedom after seven brutal years. Back home, she found her aunt basking in her late parents' mansion while her twin sister scrounged for scraps. Fury ignited her genius. She gutted the aunt's business overnight and enrolled in her sister's school, crushing the bullies. When cynics sneered at her "plain background," a prestigious family claimed her and the national lab hailed her. Reporters swarmed, influencers swooned, and jealous rivals watched their fortunes crumble. Even Asher-the rumored ruthless magnate-softened, murmuring, "Fixed your mess-now be mine."

My Irresistible Alpha

My Irresistible Alpha

Eunoiab
5.0

She gave him her innocence. He gave her a mark she could never escape. Five years ago, Elena's world shattered when she was betrayed by everyone she loved. Left homeless and heartbroken, she found fleeting solace in the arms of a devastatingly handsome stranger-a single night of raw, primal passion that became her secret touchstone of strength. Now, she's rebuilt her life from the ashes, fighting to provide for her young son. But every door she tries to open slams shut, sabotaged by a powerful, unseen force. That force is Dax Valiente. Billionaire. Alpha. Obsession. As a human girl, Elena has never expected what awaits her when she walks into the Valiente Group. That ruthless man was not just her new Boss, but the werewolf king who wants her to be his.

Revealing My Secret Identities! My Bros Are Speechless!

Revealing My Secret Identities! My Bros Are Speechless!

Zhen Xiang
5.0

For seventeen years, I was the crown jewel of the Kensington empire, the perfect daughter groomed for a royal future. Then, a cream-colored envelope landed in my lap, bearing a gold crest and a truth that turned my world into ice. The DNA test result was a cold, hard zero percent-I wasn't a Kensington. Before the ink could even dry, my parents invited my replacement, a girl named Alleen, into the drawing room and treated me like a trespasser in my own home. My mother, who once hosted galas in my honor, wouldn't even look me in the eye as she stroked Alleen's arm, whispering that she was finally "safe." My father handed me a one-million-dollar check-a mere tip for a billionaire-and told me to leave immediately to avoid tanking the company's stock price. "You're a thief! You lived my life, you spent my money, and you don't get to keep the loot!" Alleen shrieked, trying to claw the designer jacket off my shoulders while my "parents" watched with clinical detachment. I was dumped on a gritty sidewalk in Queens with nothing but three trunks and the address of a struggling laborer I was now supposed to call "Dad." I traded a marble mansion for a crumbling walk-up where the air smelled of exhaust and my new bedroom was a literal storage closet. My biological family thought I was a broken princess, and the Kensingtons thought they had successfully erased me with a payoff and a non-disclosure agreement. They had no idea that while I was hauling trunks up four flights of stairs, my secret media empire was already preparing to move against them. As I sat on a thin mattress in the dark, I opened my encrypted laptop and sent a single command that would cost my former father ten million dollars by breakfast. They thought they were throwing me to the wolves, but they forgot one thing: I'm the one who leads the pack.

Free At Last, Untouchable Now

Free At Last, Untouchable Now

Cora Wells
5.0

For three years, Natalie gave everything to be the perfect wife and mother, believing her love and effort could finally earn her a place in their hearts. Yet her sacrifices were met with betrayal from her husband and cold rejection from her son. In their eyes, she was nothing but a manipulator, using vulnerability to get her way. Her husband turned his back, her son misunderstood her, and she never truly belonged. Heartbroken yet determined, Natalie left her old life behind. When her family finally begged for a second chance, she looked at them and said, "It's too late."

Captivation: Want Nothing But You

Captivation: Want Nothing But You

Adolf Dunne
4.9

Her fiance and her best friend worked together and set her up. She lost everything and died in the street. However, she was reborn. The moment she opened her eyes, her husband was trying to strangle her. Luckily, she survived that. She signed the divorce agreement without hesitation and was ready for her miserable life. To her surprise, her mother in this life left her a great deal of money. She turned the tables and avenged herself. Everything went well in her career and love when her ex-husband came to her.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book
Too Late For Regret: My Lost Heir
1

Chapter 1 1

06/01/2026

2

Chapter 2 2

06/01/2026

3

Chapter 3 3

06/01/2026

4

Chapter 4 4

06/01/2026

5

Chapter 5 5

06/01/2026

6

Chapter 6 6

06/01/2026

7

Chapter 7 7

06/01/2026

8

Chapter 8 8

06/01/2026

9

Chapter 9 9

06/01/2026

10

Chapter 10 10

06/01/2026

11

Chapter 11 11

06/01/2026

12

Chapter 12 12

06/01/2026

13

Chapter 13 13

06/01/2026

14

Chapter 14 14

06/01/2026

15

Chapter 15 15

06/01/2026

16

Chapter 16 16

06/01/2026

17

Chapter 17 17

06/01/2026

18

Chapter 18 18

06/01/2026

19

Chapter 19 19

06/01/2026

20

Chapter 20 20

06/01/2026

21

Chapter 21 21

06/01/2026

22

Chapter 22 22

06/01/2026

23

Chapter 23 23

06/01/2026

24

Chapter 24 24

06/01/2026

25

Chapter 25 25

06/01/2026

26

Chapter 26 26

06/01/2026

27

Chapter 27 27

06/01/2026

28

Chapter 28 28

06/01/2026

29

Chapter 29 29

06/01/2026

30

Chapter 30 30

06/01/2026

31

Chapter 31 31

06/01/2026

32

Chapter 32 32

06/01/2026

33

Chapter 33 33

06/01/2026

34

Chapter 34 34

06/01/2026

35

Chapter 35 35

06/01/2026

36

Chapter 36 36

06/01/2026

37

Chapter 37 37

06/01/2026

38

Chapter 38 38

06/01/2026

39

Chapter 39 39

06/01/2026

40

Chapter 40 40

06/01/2026