Come Back To Me: Billionaire’s Regret

Shirley POV：Connor added my bank account.A few moments later, my phone vibrated with a notification. The transfer was in.I looked at him, a cold smirk on my lips."Thank you. Just as generous as before."Without waiting for a response, I turned toward the exit, forcing every muscle in my body to hide the agony.The cold wind bit through my soaked clothes, sending a violent shiver through me.A dull, familiar ache began to pool in my lower abdomen.My hands shook as I fumbled through my handbag."Where is it?" I whispered.Dammit. I was out of painkillers.I slumped against the cold wall, clutching my stomach.A horrific scene from two years ago flashed behind my eyes.That winter night... lying on the freezing pavement as they kicked me, over and over, aiming for my pregnant belly.I felt my baby forced through my pelvis, sliding out of my body and onto the frozen ground.Then, in my arms, that tiny life grew cold and rigid, inch by agonizing inch.The old scar on my soul was being

Shirley POV：Should've known asking was a waste of breath.Last night, I endured the most agonizing dinner of my life.The dishes laid out before me were works of art, the kind of exquisite delicacies you only see in high-end culinary glossies.But sitting across from Connor’s cold, impenetrable mask, I couldn’t look up. I kept my eyes fixed on my plate. And every mouthful tasted like dry earth.When I woke up in the hotel’s cloud-like bed the next morning, the ache in my hip from the accident had finally dulled.I was in front of the mirror, misting on another layer of analgesic, when my phone shrilled.It was Josh. He sounded like he was sprinting through a terminal."Shirley, don't be late for the Virex Group pitch. I just touched down at the airport—if I get hung up, you’re on. Hold the line until I get there.""Don't worry," I said, already scrambling for my gear. "I'm on it."I raced home to transform. I curled my hair into loose, polished waves and stepped into a lime-green pow

Shirley POV：The elevator doors glided open on the 36th floor, and I followed Connor out.The moment I stepped into his office, the sheer, exaggerated scale of the place took my breath away.It was a true corner office. Two massive floor-to-ceiling windows met at a ninety-degree angle, framing the sprawling urban skyline like a living mural.The interior was a study in minimalism—monochromatic grays, cold surfaces, and a layout so sparse it felt clinical.The bookshelves, the bar, the sofa, the conference table... everything was just like Connor:Sharp, hard, and devoid of warmth.Only the sunlight spilling across the floor offered any reprieve from the chill.Connor unbuttoned his suit jacket and draped it over the back of his chair.His gaze settled on me, the razor-sharp edge from the meeting room finally beginning to dull."Sit," he said.I didn't move."If you have something to say, make it quick. I know how much your billable hours are worth. I’d hate to be a line item on your ex

Coonor POV:Yesterday afternoon, I was at the convention center, scouting the site for the expansion project.Through the blinding rain, my driver took a sharp turn too fast and clipped a pedestrian.The poor woman collapsed into a puddle, struggling to push herself up from the freezing water.When she finally looked up, my heart stopped dead.It was Shirley!Three years. I’d spent three years looking for her.My driver was about to step out, but I barked at him to stay put.I threw the door open, but all I saw was her retreating figure, limping away through the downpour.She just kept going, nursing her pain in the rain.I sat back in and told the driver, "Get to the main entrance. Now!"I had to catch her. I had to find her.I tore through the corridors of the exhibition hall, my eyes scanning every face, every shadow.Nothing.Panic started to claw at my throat.Had she already left? How badly was she hurt?I picked up my pace, almost running.Suddenly, around a corner, a body colli

Connor POV:Panic swirled in Shirley’s eyes. She huddled into herself, her chest heaving with jagged breaths.In the dim, flickering light, she stared at me for a long beat before slowly extending her hand.Her skin was icy, and she was shaking—hard.Right now, she looked fragile, helpless—a far cry from the vibrant, sharp one I’d seen at the pitch meeting.The fine mist of rain settled over us as we stood face-to-face.She was forcing herself to take deep, measured breaths.After a long silence, she whispered a faint "Thank you" and turned to walk away.I grabbed her arm, my voice cracking with a loss of control I hadn't felt in years."Have you lost your mind? You’re going to risk your life for a damn bag? What if he’d had a knife? What if that guy was carrying? He could have bled you out before I even got out of the car!"A sharp ache twisted in my chest.When we broke up, I’d left her with more than enough money to live comfortably.How the hell was she driving that junk pile of a