The Billionaire's Regret; Now He Desperately Wants Her Back.

Opulent chandeliers illuminated the grand dining room of the Michaelson's mansion. The entire family sat around the large table, which stretched for miles. Silence filled the air and the only sound that could be heard was the spoons clacking against their shiny porcelain surfaces. There were palatable cuisines topped on the table with fruits and expensive French wines."So, Vivian, how was your stay in Australia? I heard you plan on establishing your fashion house here in the United States," my mom inquired, breaking the solitude with her gaze settling on Vivian.Vivian beamed, feeling delightful.With a nod, she replied, "Yes, Mrs. Judith, I did have a lot of projects back in Australia, but I left it because of Michael.."Vivian held my hands which were on the table and I gulped down the lump in my throat. A tiny smile sprang on my face, but it vanished in an instant when my father's gaze met mine.Seeing Vivian here didn't please him.He believes she is a spoiled, mannerless lady wh

The grand elite auction would commence anytime from now. Alighting from my car, I glanced at my wristwatch to check the time. I will finally have the chance to meet the new CEO of the Imperial Company at this gathering today. I've approached them about partnering, but they haven't accepted my offer. Given the excellent standing of my company and my stellar reputation, I anticipate that they will accept my offer right away.A forced grin tugged at my lips as I cast a glance at the gigantic Marino Empire which towered over the other buildings beside it. Parts of the building had gold plaster applied to them, and the walls were composed of sturdy glass. The courtyard was lined with posh, expensive cars, and there were uniformed guards stationed at strategic locations like statues. The entire place screamed wealth as only highly reputable people visited it.."Michael, you must get me that Hope diamond at the auction today. I've been craving to have that for years.." Vivian chirped happily

POV: Emerald (Vanessa)I didn't read gossip articles.I don't need to. My phone buzzed nonstop, sure, but that wasn’t new. Headlines came and went like weather. I wore confidence like armor and made sure my silence was louder than any headline they could print.So while the internet was in flames over who I used to be—Vanessa Michaelson, ex-wife, “the wife who got thrown away”—I was doing yoga on my penthouse terrace, the skyline of Manhattan glittering below me, a glass of citrus-infused water in reach, my son giggling nearby with his sketchpad.I inhaled deeply, then exhaled the past.The sun was warm on my skin. The silk of my matching workout set moved like a second skin. My hair was loose, free, soft around my shoulders. No cameras here. No pity. No rage. Just breath, just blood, just being.“Mommy,” Kelvin called, holding up his sketchbook. “Look. I drew the tree from the park.”I dropped to one knee beside him, brushing his curls back gently.“It’s beautiful, Kelvin”. I kissed

POV: EmeraldThe rain came softly that afternoon, a quiet hush against the glass walls of the penthouse as gray light spread across the skyline. I sat cross-legged on the thick cream rug in the center of the living room, my laptop forgotten on the sofa behind me. All my attention was on the small boy lying on his stomach in front of me, crayons scattered around him, his tongue tucked in the corner of his mouth as he colored with fierce concentration.Kelvin.My son. My miracle.He was five now—soft curls, bright eyes, skin that held the golden warmth of a sunbeam. He had a gentle heart and a stubborn streak I know too well. And right now, he was coloring a giant red dragon with a blue crown.“It’s you,” he said suddenly, sitting up.I blinked. “Me?”Kelvin nodded solemnly and held up the drawing. The dragon was strong, with large wings, and it hovered over a small castle.“You’re the queen dragon. And you protect the castle from bad guys.”My heart squeezed.“You think I’m a dragon?”

POV: MichaelIt started with a simple phone call.I was in the middle of a morning strategy meeting when Mark, my assistant, slipped in and handed my phone to me. He whispered something. His face was pale.“Sir, it’s urgent.”I took the phone, pressing it to my ear. “What is it?”On the other end, my head of international development spoke in a low, grave tone.“We’ve been shut out of the Singapore deal.”I frowned. “That’s not possible. We’ve been negotiating for six months.”“I know, sir. But there was a last-minute acquisition. The land, the licenses, the partnerships—we got outbid. And the board already approved their registration this morning.”“Who?” I asked, though my stomach already turned.A pause.“Imperial Holdings.”The words hit like a slap.I ended the call without responding.The room had gone still. My executives shifted uncomfortably.My voice was tight when I spoke. “Meeting adjourned.”They filed out silently, leaving me alone in a room full of glass walls and the