MasukBella pov
The road stretched ahead, dark and endless. I had no idea where I was going. The Black estate was in the richest part of Silverton, miles from anything resembling public transportation. It was nearly midnight. It was raining. I was pregnant and homeless and completely, utterly alone. I reached a bus stop and collapsed onto the bench, my suitcase falling beside me with a wet thud. The rain pounded down, soaking me to the bone, but I couldn't make myself move. Couldn't make myself care about anything except the tiny life growing inside me. "I'm sorry," I whispered, my hand pressed to my stomach. "I'm so sorry. I should've protected you better. Should've seen this coming. Should've." Should've what? Never agreed to marry a man who saw me as a burden? Never hoped for love from people who'd never given it? Never believed I could be anything more than second-best? A memory surfaced, sharp and painful. I was seven years old, standing in our living room while my parents cooed over Jade's school play performance. I'd won a writing contest that day, and had been so excited to tell them, but when I'd tried to speak, my father had held up one hand. "Not now, Bella. Can't you see we're celebrating your sister?" I'd learned to be quiet after that. To make myself small. To never ask for anything, never expect anything, never hope for anything. And still, somehow, I'd ended up here. Broken and alone on a street corner, with nothing but forty-seven dollars in my wallet and a baby no one wanted. The rain fell harder. I tilted my face up to it, let it wash away the tears, the makeup, the last traces of the girl who'd worn a wedding dress and believed in fairy tales. That girl was gone. Someone new was being born in her place. Someone harder. Someone who would never let anyone hurt her again. I pulled out my phone with shaking hands and searched for bus routes out of Silverton. The last bus to anywhere ran at 12:30 AM. I had twenty minutes to decide where to go, how to survive, how to build a life from nothing. My eyes landed on a destination I'd never heard of before. Crestwood. A Small city, three hours away, cheap rent according to the message boards I found. Far enough from Silverton that no one would find me, far enough to disappear. I bought a one-way ticket with my credit card, knowing Caleb could track the purchase, knowing he wouldn't care enough to follow. The transaction went through. Forty-seven dollars left to my name until the card hit its limit. A bus pulled up, its brakes squealing in the rain. The door hissed open, and the driver looked at me with something like pity. "You getting on, miss?" I grabbed my suitcase and stood, my legs shaking so badly I nearly fell. The bus was nearly empty—just me and an old woman sleeping in the back, and a teenager with headphones staring at his phone. I found a seat near the middle and pressed my face against the cold window as the bus pulled away. Through the rain-streaked glass, I could see Silverton's skyline receding, all those glittering towers full of people who'd never know my name, never care that I'd existed. Black Tower rose above them all, Caleb's kingdom, his empire. The building where he'd built his fortune, where he spent more time than he'd ever spent with me. "I'll come back," I whispered against the glass, my breath fogging it. My hand moved to my stomach, protective and fierce. "One day, when I'm stronger. When I've built something that matters. When I can look you in the eye and show you exactly what you threw away." The words felt like a vow, like a promise written in blood and rain and tears. "I'll come back, and when I do, you'll all pay. Every single one of you." The bus turned a corner, and Silverton disappeared behind buildings and trees and distance. I closed my eyes and let the exhaustion take me, let my body sag against the seat while my mind spun with impossible plans. I had nothing. No money, no home, no family. Just forty-seven dollars, a suitcase full of cheap clothes, and a baby growing inside me that the world had already decided wasn't wanted. But I had something else too. I had rage. Pure, crystalline, unbreakable rage. And rage, I was learning, could be just as powerful as love. Maybe more so. The old woman in the back woke up and shuffled toward the front, getting off at some stop I didn't recognize. The teenager stayed glued to his phone. The driver kept his eyes on the road.No one looked at me, no one saw me. I was invisible again, just like I'd always been. But this time, I chose it. This time, being invisible meant being safe. It meant having time to plan, to heal, to grow strong enough to face them all again. My phone buzzed. Another text from the unknown number.Hello dearest readers, We have finally reached the end of The Billionaire's Discarded Bride! 277 chapters of chaos, tears, revenge, redemption, and way too many dramatic confrontations. I can’t believe we made it. I’m sitting here emotional, exhausted, and slightly proud of myself for not abandoning this story halfway through like I threatened to do at least seventeen times. 😭 At this point, I must confess… I’m low-key envious of Bella. Like, seriously envious. That woman got the whole package: the brooding billionaire who actually learns and grows, the protective family drama, the hot reconciliation scenes… A girl can dream, okay? If any of you are also secretly jealous of her love life, please raise your hand so I don’t feel alone in my delusion. To every single one of you who read, commented, voted, gifted, or even just silently cheered from the shadows thank you. From the bottom of my caffeine-filled heart. Your support turned this little idea into a full-blown journey, an
Bella pov When we finally pulled apart, the garden burst into lively movement. Maya was the first to rush over, threw her arms around my neck, and squeezed me so hard I could barely breathe. Enzo followed right behind her, laughing as he pulled Caleb into a brief, awkward hug before turning to hand Grace a small glass of fresh apple juice.We moved to the lawn tables where trays of food and tea were set out. Sebastien stood near the fence, talking quietly with Olivier, though his eyes kept drifting back to me with a look of peaceful warmth. Across the grass, Nadia sat on a blanket, helping Tom build a small tower out of leftover wooden chair blocks while Grace happily toddled in circles around them, her hands sticky with fruit.Hours passed in a gentle blur. The afternoon sun moved slowly across the yard, casting long, golden shadows against the fence. People ate, laughed, and moved between small clusters of conversation. There were no speech schedules, no photographers, and no corpo
Bella POVI woke up before anyone else on the morning of our vow renewal. I walked downstairs into the kitchen in the early quiet, pulled open the glass back door, and looked out at the garden.Maya had come the evening before carrying armfuls of flowers from the market. White blossoms, pale yellow roses, and long, trailing green vines that she had twisted directly into the wooden fence along the garden wall. It did not look like a staged venue. It looked like something that had grown there naturally over time.Caleb came downstairs at six in the morning, his bare feet silent on the hardwood floor. He carried two warm mugs of tea and stopped beside me at the window."You're supposed to be asleep," he said softly, handing me a mug."So are you," I replied, taking a warm sip.He looked out at the gate post. "Maya left flowers on the fence.""She had extras," I said."She also left a note," Caleb said, pulling a folded scrap of paper from his pocket. "It says, and I quote: If either of y
Bella POVI was sitting at my desk with a hot cup of coffee resting beside my laptop. The screen was bright, displaying my calendar for the day, with my nine o'clock call still forty minutes away.A sharp chime sounded from my phone. The screen lit up with an incoming email notification from my solicitor. I reached over and tapped the screen to open it.Ms. Black,We received an urgent notification from Silverton Memorial Hospital regarding Richard Hart. You remain listed as his official primary contact and next of kin on his legacy file.Mr. Hart suffered a severe stroke on Wednesday evening and was admitted to the intensive care unit. His condition is currently stable, but he has experienced significant physical and speech impairment.Please advise if you wish to update your contact preferences or require further action.Regards,Legal TeamI stared at the screen while my coffee grew cold. I picked up my phone and dialed Caleb's number. He answered on the second ring."Bella? Is eve
Bella POVI was standing by the kitchen island with a steaming mug of tea, wiping down the counter with a damp cloth. The house was quiet, save for the hum of the refrigerator.Clack-clack.The sharp metal rattle of the front door's mail slot echoed down the hallway, followed by the soft thud of paper hitting the hardwood floor.I set my cloth down, walked to the foyer, and picked up the small pile of mail. Among the glossy magazines and corporate notices sat a thick, plain white envelope.I turned it over in my hands. The paper felt soft and worn at the edges, as if it had traveled a long road. My thumb brushed over the return address stamped in bold black ink on the top left corner: State Correctional Facility for Women. Below it was a prisoner ID number and a name: Jade Hart.My heart gave a single, hard thump. I walked back to the kitchen and set the letter flat on the island. I looked at the envelope for five full minutes while my tea grew cold. Then, taking a steadying breath,
Bella POVA week later.Lyon in October is the color of something ending gracefully.I looked out the window of Sebastien's car as we drove from the airport. The trees along the wide boulevard were turning shades of deep amber and rust. The afternoon light was flatter and warmer than Silverton's, and the city moved at a quiet, unhurried pace. Sebastien had spent decades building his life here. I could see it in the way pedestrians smiled and nodded as his car passed by—not with fear, but with genuine respect.The car pulled up the winding driveway and stopped in front of the grand estate.Sebastien was already standing at the front door. There was no assistant beside him, no formal staff waiting. He wore a soft, pale grey sweater, and his posture was slightly less rigid than usual.He opened the car door for me himself. "You look tired, Bella," he said, offering his hand."I had a baby a few months ago and ran a record-breaking IPO last week," I said, stepping out onto the stone path
Bella POVThe morning after my breakdown, I woke up with swollen eyes and a pounding headache. Maya was already in the kitchen making coffee when I emerged, and she took one look at my face before sliding a mug across the counter."You look like hell," she said bluntly."I feel worse." I wrapped my
Caleb POVThree cracked ribs and a laceration requiring eight stitches — that was what the doctor told me, and Bella had opened her eyes just long enough to tell the nurse she didn't need that much fuss before the sedative pulled her back under. They let me stay with her after. I dragged a chair t
Bella POVThe message came through my business contact line, which was why I almost didn't question it.Re: Singapore acquisition — potential whistleblower with documentation on Richard Hart's shell company activity. Can only meet in person. Time sensitive. Tonight, 8 PM, 14 Crane Yard (warehouse d
Bella POVThe problem with living with someone you were attracted to was that ordinary things stopped being ordinary.The way he handed me my coffee in the mornings — remembering before I did that I'd switched to one sugar — became a thing I was aware of. His habit of working at the dining table i







