The Billionaire Married Me, Then Forgot How to Love Me

(Serena)

I step out from behind the velvet curtain, and there he is.

James Hale. My billionaire husband.

My heart skips the way it always does when I see him waiting like this—cool, confident, owning the entire boutique without even trying. He’s sitting back in the plush private lounge like it was built for him.

His dark eyes lock on me, and the corner of his mouth lifts.

That look. 

The one that always makes me feel like I’m the only woman in the world.

I smile, even though I feel... tight inside. Tense.

Because I haven’t told him.

I haven’t said the words: I’m pregnant again.

After the miscarriage a few months ago, we both shut down.

I can’t help touching my hand to my stomach.

Still flat. Still nothing to see. 

But I know there is a baby growing inside of me.

I told myself I’d wait until I was further along before I said anything this time.

To wait a little longer before I get his hopes up. 

Before I get my hopes up…

“You’re going to ruin lives in this red dress,” James says, standing up with a grin.

He is tall, broad, and built with the kind of strength that makes people step aside without a word. 

His unruly dark hair is always perfectly undone, and his straight jawline stays rough with just the right amount of stubble.

I laugh a little. “You said that about the black one.”

“Yeah, but this one…” He backs me into the dressing room and yanks the curtain close, eyes dragging over every inch of me. 

“This is the dress. I’ll be the envy of every man in the room.”

I drag the curtain back open. 

“Then this dress it is. But we don’t have time for what’s on your mind.”

“Sure we do.” He grins and reaches for me again.

We do have the time. But I am really not in that mood.

Tonight. I will tell him tonight.

“I need hours to get ready, you know that. To look the part…”

“You always look perfect.” He whispers to me. 

I want to believe him. I do. But I also know what his world expects.

Flawless hair. Flawless body. Perfect poise. 

And I’m just me. 

Bakery girl, small-town girl, girl with dough under her fingernails. 

Girl with a little junk in her trunk.

Girl who got lucky.

James’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He ignores it. 

Then it goes again. Then again. He pulls it out of his pocket and frowns.

He answers it immediately when it starts to ring. “Yeah?”

I hear a female voice.

And then—he does something he’s never done before—he turns away from me. 

I blink in disbelief.

James always stays near me when he takes calls. He never has anything to hide.

He usually keeps one arm around me, like he doesn’t care who hears. 

Work calls, boardroom drama, deals—he’s always let me listen. 

But now, he walks a few steps away, lowers his voice, and I can’t hear a single word.

I stare at his back. Something’s wrong. Why is he hiding something?

He finishes the call and comes back, all charm again.

“Crisis at the office,” James flashes me his smooth, effortless smile and takes my hand. “You meet me later at Hale Tower and I'll book us a room at the venue for later,” he adds with a wink.

It sounds romantic. Maybe even thoughtful.

But it doesn’t feel like that. Not exactly. 

It feels like he’s handling something. Handling me. To keep me happy.

Still—I nod. “Okay. Sounds perfect.”

He kisses me and leaves.

***

I glance toward Hale Tower, just ahead, gripping the steering wheel tighter than I should be. 

That call James took was eating at me the whole drive.

I’m about to pull into my reserved spot when a woman steps right out in front of me!

“Oh God!” I slam the brakes and wrench the wheel to the right.

My little car lurches up the curb and crunches into the base of a lamppost. 

The whole thing happens in a blink, just one blur of motion and adrenaline. 

I slam the gear into park, turn off the ignition and throw open the door.

There she is. A tall, very pregnant woman, now leaning on my car.

My stomach drops. 

She could’ve been seriously hurt. 

Her baby could have been hurt. I’d never forgive myself if that happened…

I rush over, heart hammering. “Are you okay?!”

She glares at me like I’ve personally declared war on her. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” she yells. “You could’ve killed me! I think I’m going into labor!”

My chest feels tight with panic.

She doesn’t look injured. But her anger is so loud, so sure, I start to question myself. 

Maybe I really did mess up. Maybe my worries did affect my driving.

“You get your license out of a cereal box?” she continues.

I take a breath, trying to calm the rising panic. “You stepped out of nowhere, I swerved to miss you…”

Her eyes flash. “Oh, I see what this is. You’re gonna blame me for insurance. Say the crazy pregnant woman jumped in front of you, right? Is this what you do? Are you an insurance scammer?”

“What?” I stare at her.

“You can’t scare me,” she announces. “My husband works right in there.” 

She points at Hale Tower. 

“He’s a billionaire. And if you try anything, his lawyers will bury you.”

Billionaire? Okay… Well, my husband owns that place and half the rest of this city. 

But I don’t want to inflame her anymore.

“He’s on his way out here. Just you wait and see…” She’s leaning on the hood of my car, like it’s her chaise lounge. 

I try to hold onto some sliver of composure but I’m glancing up at her as she checks her nails and smooths her already perfect outfit. 

I can’t stop looking at her.

Flawless hair. Flawless body. Perfect poise even eight months pregnant.

Just the type of daughter-in-law Margo Hale wanted instead of me.

And then her whole posture changes. She straightens up. Her face transforms into something bright and polished.

She waves past me. “Ah,” she says. “Here he is now… James! Honey!”

I turn. And time stops because my James is walking toward us.

My husband James.

I see her move into his personal space and her hands touching him without hesitation.

She puts her arms around his neck, collapsing onto him. “James, this useless woman tried to ram into me! She could have hurt our baby!”

Their baby?

I can’t move. I can’t think. 

All I can do is stare as she leans on him like she belongs there, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

He steadies her gently, one arm around her waist. But he doesn’t shrug her off. 

He should be moving away from her. Why isn’t he moving away from her?

“Savannah… you seem to be okay… Are you? The baby?” His voice is low, gentle.

Savannah?

My chest tightens. Not that Savannah. Not the Savannah.

But it is. I know in my heart it is.

His ex-fiancée. She’s here. She’s back. Calling my husband hers.

My mouth goes dry.