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He Betrayed Me at My Lowest. I Met Him at His Peak

He Betrayed Me at My Lowest. I Met Him at His Peak

Romance
last updateปรับปรุงล่าสุด : 2026-08-06
โดย:  Sonia’s BookVerseอัปเดตเมื่อครู่นี้
ภาษา: English
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5 การให้คะแนน. 5 ความคิดเห็น
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รายงาน
ภาพรวม
แค็ตตาล็อก
สแกนรหัสเพื่ออ่านบนแอป

คำโปรย

Drama

Girl Power

Sweet Love

Independent

Intelligent

Brave

Contract Marriage

Lovers Reunion

Second Chance

When Elara Vance was at her breaking point—homeless, grieving, and clutching a positive pregnancy test—she turned to the only person she ever trusted: Julian Thorne. But instead of the protection he promised, he gave her a cold shoulder and a one-way ticket out of his life, choosing his family’s empire over their "pathetic" love.Five years later, Elara is no longer the girl who begs. She has rebuilt her life from the ashes, fueled by a quiet strength and the secret she kept from the world. But fate has a cruel sense of humor.When her new job lands her in the inner sanctum of the tech industry’s most ruthless billionaire, she finds herself face-to-face with the man who destroyed her. Julian Thorne is now at his peak—more powerful, more handsome, and more dangerous than ever. He doesn't recognize the woman he discarded, but he wants her.He thinks he can win her with his billions, unaware that Elara isn't there for his money or his heart."You told me I was a mistake you couldn't afford, Julian. Now, I’m the debt you’ll never be able to pay off."As the past and present collide, Julian is determined to claim her, but Elara has a bombshell that could topple his empire: The child he never knew existed is waiting at home.

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ความคิดเห็น

Moonscribe
Moonscribe
I’m loving the book already I mean who doesn’t love a badass heroine
2026-06-15 15:07:05
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0
Sonia’s BookVerse
Sonia’s BookVerse
Beautiful story, I’m enjoying it so far
2026-05-13 06:46:55
1
0
SIRIS
SIRIS
interesting.... nice
2026-05-09 07:44:31
1
0
Debby Khimberly
Debby Khimberly
This book is so addictive, I keep unlocking
2026-05-04 00:29:19
1
0
Sonia’s BookVerse
Sonia’s BookVerse
Hey everyone! I’m so incredibly excited to finally share this story with you all! ... We are diving into a world of high stakes, deep secrets, and intense chemistry, and I can’t wait to see what you think of Elara Vance’s journey. If you’re enjoying the ride so far, please hit that Like button!!
2026-04-29 06:14:37
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0
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The Rain & The Ruin
​The rain in Crestview didn’t just fall; it punished. It was a cold, rhythmic assault that turned the city’s soot-stained streets into a labyrinth of grey slush. It hammered against the cracked, salt-crusted windows of the bus station, mirroring the frantic, shattered rhythm of Elara Vance’s heart. Each drop sounded like a gavel striking a desk, pronouncing a sentence she wasn't ready to serve. ​In her trembling hand, she clutched two slips of paper that represented the total sum of her existence. One was a positive pregnancy test, the blue lines appearing like a cruel joke against the plastic; the other was a crumpled eviction notice, the ink bleeding into the cheap paper from the dampness of her palms. ​"He’ll help," she whispered, her voice a ghost of a sound that was immediately swallowed by the wind whistling through the station’s rafters. She looked at the empty, cold bench beside her, imagining Julian sitting there, his warm hand covering hers. "Julian loves me. He promised we
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Five Years of Silence
The boardroom meeting had been an exercise in prolonged, exquisite agony. For two grueling hours, Elara had felt Julian’s gaze like a physical weight, stripping away her carefully constructed professional layers. He wasn't looking at her blueprints; he was searching for the ruins of the girl he had once loved and eventually destroyed. Every time she spoke of load-bearing structures or glass-curtain walls, she could see him dissecting her voice, looking for a tremor that would prove she still felt the ghost of their past. ​The moment the meeting adjourned, Elara didn't wait for the customary handshakes or the polite, hollow pleasantries of the corporate elite. Her skin felt too tight for her body. She gathered her tablet and leather portfolio with trembling fingers and bolted for the exit, her heels clicking a frantic rhythm against the polished marble. She needed air—unfiltered, city air—and she needed to get back to the safety of the hotel suite where Leo was waiting. ​She reached
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The Ghost of Thorne Tower
The boardroom meeting had been an exercise in prolonged, exquisite agony. For two grueling hours, Elara had felt Julian’s gaze like a physical weight, stripping away her carefully constructed professional layers. He wasn't looking at her blueprints; he was searching for the ruins of the girl he had once loved and eventually destroyed. Every time she spoke of load-bearing structures or glass-curtain walls, she could see him dissecting her voice, looking for a tremor that would prove she still felt the ghost of their past. ​The moment the meeting adjourned, Elara didn't wait for the customary handshakes or the polite, hollow pleasantries of the corporate elite. Her skin felt too tight for her body. She gathered her tablet and leather portfolio with trembling fingers and bolted for the exit, her heels clicking a frantic rhythm against the polished marble. She needed air—unfiltered, city air—and she needed to get back to the safety of the hotel suite where Leo was waiting. ​She reached
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The Hidden Truth
To finish the "New Dawn" project, Elara needed the original blueprints of the Thorne family estate—the "Apex Manor." It was a piece of architectural history she had once studied with love, never realizing it would become the site of her banishment. Julian had been uncharacteristically helpful when she requested the documents, his voice sounding entirely too smug over the phone. ​"I’ll have the archivist meet you in the basement," he had told her. "The blueprints are too fragile to be moved to the upper floors. You’ll have to review them in situ." ​But when Elara arrived at the cold, dimly lit archive room three levels beneath the foundations of Thorne Tower, the heavy steel door clicked shut behind her with a finality that made the hair on her arms stand up. There was no archivist. There were no white gloves or drafting lights prepared for her. ​There was only Julian. ​He was leaning against a stack of rusted metal crates, the harsh industrial lighting casting long, jagged
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The Ultimatum
​The silence that followed Julian’s discovery wasn't peaceful; it was a deafening, pressurized void that felt like it might cause the windows of the apartment to shatter. Leo stood at the end of the hallway, his green dinosaur blanket trailing behind him like a royal cape, looking at the tall, formidable stranger with wide, curious eyes. The boy didn't know he was looking at his own ghost. Julian, meanwhile, looked at the child as if he were witnessing a miracle—or a haunting—manifested in flesh and blood. ​"Leo, honey, go back to bed. This is just... a business associate. We have to discuss some boring building plans," Elara said. Her voice was a fragile thread, trembling so violently she feared it would snap. ​Leo looked between them, his five-year-old intuition sensing the lightning in the room, but he was too exhausted by the fever to argue. He nodded sleepily and retreated into his room. The moment the bedroom door clicked shut, the atmosphere in the foyer shifted from shock
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Into the Lion’s Den
The black Maybach glided through the towering iron gates of the Thorne Estate like a silent, apex predator returning to its territory with a fresh prize. Elara sat in the plush leather of the back seat, her hand clutching Leo’s small, warm one with a grip that was perhaps a little too tight. Outside, the sky had turned a bruised shade of purple, and the rain was beginning to fall again—a cold, rhythmic hammering against the roof that served as a cruel reminder of the night she had been thrown out of these very gates, broken and discarded. ​"Is this a castle, Mommy?" Leo asked, his face pressed so hard against the tinted glass that his breath left a fog on the window. ​His eyes were wide, taking in the rolling acres of the estate, the perfectly manicured hedges that looked like green walls, and the marble fountains illuminated by underwater lights that likely cost more than their entire apartment in London. To a five-year-old, it was a fairy tale; to Elara, it was a graveyard of mem
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Shadows of the Past
The next morning, the fragile peace of the North Wing wasn't broken by a shout or an alarm; it was shattered by the rhythmic, lethal clicking of expensive heels on the marble floors of the main hall. It was a sound Elara had heard in her nightmares for half a decade—the sound of a predator approaching. ​Beatrice Thorne had returned. ​Elara was in the sun-drenched breakfast room, a space of glass and white linen that felt far too cheerful for the storm that was brewing. She was focused on Leo, helping him cut his pancakes into the shape of stars, trying to maintain a semblance of normalcy. Then, the double doors swung open with a violent grace. ​Beatrice stood there, looking like an ice sculpture carved from a block of Chanel-scented arrogance. Her suit was a pale, clinical blue, and her hair was pulled back so tightly it seemed to sharpen the cruel lines of her face. She looked at Elara with a mixture of visceral disgust and genuine, wide-eyed shock. But when her gaze shifted dow
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The First Breakfast
Sleep was an impossible luxury for Elara Vance. Even in a bed draped in the finest Egyptian silk, with a mattress that felt like a cloud, the air in the North Wing felt thin and suffocating. The silence of the Thorne Estate was too heavy, filled with the ghosts of the girl she used to be and the woman she had been forced to become. ​She stepped out onto the wide stone balcony, the mountain air biting at her skin. Below, the vast, manicured gardens of the estate were bathed in the ethereal glow of a high moon. Long, silver shadows stretched across the grass like reaching fingers, and the constant, rhythmic splashing of the marble fountains sounded like a heartbeat in the dark. ​A movement below caught her eye. Near the central fountain, where the spray caught the moonlight like a shower of diamonds, a figure sat alone. It was Julian. He was perched on a stone bench, his posture slumped in a way she had never seen. By his side sat a bottle of scotch and a single lead-crystal glass. A
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The Weight of the Ring
After Marcus left—following a tense standoff in the foyer that had left the air vibrating with unspoken threats—Elara found herself retreating to the master study. It was a room she usually avoided, a cavernous space of dark oak and the scent of old leather that felt like the inner sanctum of the Thorne ego. She was supposed to be reviewing the final blueprints for the North Wing’s expansion, but her mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The "One Month" deal felt like a countdown to a collision she wasn't sure she would survive. ​She sat at the massive desk, her hands trembling as she reached for a pen. She opened a velvet-lined drawer, expecting to find stationery. Instead, her eyes landed on a small, navy-blue box tucked away in the very back corner, as if it were a secret the room was trying to hide. ​Her breath hitched, the air turning into lead in her lungs. She knew that box. It was a relic of a ghost. It was the engagement ring Julian had shown her in a blurred, beau
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The Gala & The Fire
The annual Thorne Foundation Gala was the social event of the year—a tradition of excess that served as a reminder of who truly sat at the summit of the city’s hierarchy. Julian had made it clear: Elara was to attend as his guest, an unofficial coronation that had sent shockwaves through the elite. ​The ballroom was a shark tank disguised in silk and sequins. Every laugh felt like a calculated move, every clink of a champagne flute a signal in a war Elara didn't fully understand. She could feel the weight of a hundred eyes on her back—the "Vance girl" who had dared to return to the Peak. The air was cloying, thick with the scent of expensive lilies and the underlying bitterness of old money. She stood beside Julian, her hand resting on his arm like a decorative ornament, but inside, she was counting the minutes until she could escape the suffocating glamour of a world that had once tried to erase her. ​"Is that the Vance girl? The one who was disgraced?" a voice whispered from behi
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