Too Late For The Billionaire's Regret

Chapter 7

Word Count: 783 | Released on: 04/06/2026

ad against the cool leather of the seat, her body trembling with adrenaline and rage. She arr

ors slid open w

the entrance to her

ed over her chest, a smug, proprietary look on her face. Her bodyguards s

lear focus. She looked at the woman who had stolen her life, wh

the plush carpet. Her eyes, filled with venom

The daughter of a convict, fresh out of whatever gutter you've been hidin

s price tag. "Harlan told me all about your little performance

as the

world narrowed to Kali

y a word. She

her hand

asn't the desperate, angry slap she'd given Harlan

alance on her ridiculous heels and crumpled to the floor, a heap of red silk an

He didn't even draw his weapon. He simply used the butt of his holstered pistol to strike

s one of pure fury. "You bitch!" She lunged forw

utter disdain. She lifted her foot, the sharp

licate, expensive train of her gown, pinning the fabric to

ext time you mention my child," she said, enunciatin

ce, and swiped her key card. The door to her suite clicked open. She walk

d it felt like a physical violation. She fumbled in her clutch fo

d on the s

s. "Cora... she attacked me! She hit me! She's insane, a complete monster!" She a

eavy moment. Only the sound of hi

, his voice was colde

e single word sharp

fake tears dryin

er. And let me be perfectly clear. You can call her whatever you want. But if I ever hear you use a word like 'gutter' o

ne wen

g buzz in her ear. The jealousy and humiliation

. The foundation of lies she had built her life

Chapter End

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Too Late For The Billionaire's Regret

SHANA GRAY Modern

“I was happily preparing to tell Harlan, my lover of five years, that I was pregnant with our child. But when I pushed open his study door, I heard him ordering the ruthless liquidation of my father's company. He wasn't just my family's head of security; he was Harlan Sinclair, a Wall Street predator. He threw a hostile takeover agreement at my feet and sneered that the baby in my belly was a bastard. "Take the money, get rid of that child, and get out of my sight forever." My best friend Kali had forged a DNA report and drugged me to steal him, and he believed every word. Stumbling out into the pouring rain, I was violently struck by a speeding truck. As my blood pooled on the wet asphalt and my baby's life slipped away, Kali stepped out of a luxury SUV just to smile at my agony. Later, in a grim underground clinic, a fake nurse raised a lethal syringe to finish the job. I didn't understand how five years of deep love could be shattered by a single cheap lie. I understood even less how the man who once swore to protect me could so coldly condemn our unborn child to death. Rescued by my father's loyal guards at the last possible second, I vanished into the shadows. Four years later, I stepped off a private jet in New York. The naive, broken Cora was dead; I had returned to make them all crawl.”