All Chapters of Betrayed By Ex, Loved By My Billionaire Boss : Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

Regina's POV The news spread through the office like wildfire. By Tuesday morning, the whispers had turned into full-blown chaos. Half the company was in shock. The other half looked like they were waiting for the other shoe to drop.And me?I walked in with my head high, a new keycard in my hand, and a fresh nameplate waiting on my desk: Regina Blake – Acting Director of Strategic Accounts.Not assistant or temporary coordinator. Acting Director. Mary's old title.I didn't gloat. I didn't smile. I simply got to work. But of course, peace was never an option.By noon, Cassandra stormed into the building like a woman possessed. Despite being escorted out the day before, she must've bullied her way past security. She came straight for my office like a heat-seeking missile."Regina!" she snapped, slamming the door shut behind her.I looked up slowly. "You're not supposed to be here."She ignored that. "How dare you go behind my back? You want to play executive now, is that it? You thin

I couldn't sleep.The office lights were off, but I was still there, hours after the cleaning crew had left. My laptop screen glowed in the dark like a lighthouse on the edge of a storm. I clicked through internal records Jenna had quietly sent me—discreet logs, server access timestamps, flagged correspondence.And there it was again.An outgoing message from Mary's user ID, routed through the internal system, sent to an anonymized domain—twice. One timestamp matched a day I'd been in a meeting with her. The second? It matched the day after she got suspended.She shouldn't have had access anymore. Someone had kept the door open for her. I stared at the access list. Then I froze.I shot up from my chair, grabbed my coat, and stormed toward his floor.He was still at his desk, half asleep, headphones in. He didn't see me coming until I slammed my hand on his keyboard.He jolted upright. "Jesus—Regina?""Travis. What the hell is this?" I yanked out a printed screenshot of the server logs

Regina's POV Nicholas and I were doing something dangerous.We were plotting a coup against the woman who built him, controlled the board, and practically owned the Harwood name. And the worst part? We had no idea who was still loyal to her—or how far she'd go to keep her throne.Jenna arrived at my place just after midnight. She came armed with her laptop, an energy drink, and a face that said don't ask me how illegal this next part is."I traced the server from Cassandra's last leak," she said, cracking her knuckles. "Guess what? It links to an offshore holding company registered to an address in Luxembourg. And surprise, surprise—Lolita sits on the board of that company too."I blinked. "She's laundering company sabotage through her own ghost firm?""Exactly," Jenna said. "That's how she's been moving files, data, even false narratives—without leaving a fingerprint."Nicholas swore under his breath. "We need hard proof. Something that connects her to the sabotage directly.""She's

Regina's POV Lolita didn't scream. She didn't cry damn it! She didn't even blink! She just stared at Nicholas like she'd finally seen the monster she always suspected he could become. "You've made a mistake," she said in a low voice. "One you won't recover from." "I already did," he replied. "The day I let you run this place unchecked." The room was still reeling from the vote, the silence so heavy it nearly choked me. Board members began quietly packing their things, avoiding eye contact with both Nicholas and Lolita like they were afraid either one might spontaneously combust. Lolita stood slowly, smoothing down her blazer with grace that almost masked her venom. "To all of you," she said to the board, "don't think I'll forget this. When the shareholders start asking questions—and believe me, they will—I hope you have answers." Then she turned to me. "You think this is over? Little girl, I raised empires with men like Nicholas under my heel. You're a passing phase.

Regina's POV By lunchtime, I was a headline and a cautionary tale. Every side-eye, every hushed whisper—it all boiled into one hard truth: I wasn't just fighting for my job anymore. I was fighting for my name. And I wasn't going to lose. I locked my office door and called the only person who'd understand. "Tell me it's time," I said. A deep chuckle answered. "Regina Moore calling me in the middle of a scandal? Must be bad." "Devon, it's a war zone." Devon—a PR fixer, a marketing genius, and my friend from college—was infamous for turning messes into miracles. "I saw the photo," he said. "You look great, by the way. But yeah, the narrative is ugly." "I need to rewrite it." "You want to play offense?" "No," I said coldly. "I want to scorch the damn field." An hour later, I was in a private café downtown, hoodie up, sunglasses on, laptop open. Devon slid into the seat opposite mine, his grin sharp and dangerous. "You want me to spin the truth?" he asked. "No. I want you to