All Chapters of BILLIONAIRE’s REGRET : I MARRIED EX- HUSBAND ENEMY: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

-SCARLETT REED-Morning sunlight came in like an apology — soft, insistent, refusing to be ignored. It pooled across the kitchen counter and lit the steam from Cassian’s coffee. He stood there, sleeves rolled, jaw a little more tired than it should be for a man who never slept less than six hours. For a heartbeat I just watched him. I wanted to memorize the arc of his shoulder, the scar of concentration between his brows; later, when things shifted again, I could compare this calm to whatever came after.He didn’t look at me at first — just the way he always does when he’s pretending not to look. The quiet attention feels more dangerous than a shouted confession.“You didn’t sleep?” he asked when he finally turned.“Barely.” I forced my voice smooth. “Nerves.”“Of course.” He poured coffee, handed it to me. Our fingers brushed. It was a small shock, electric and ordinary, and for a second my chest loosened. I pressed my hand to my stomach without thinking, the gesture automatic now. I

-CASSIAN HALE-The noise from the party still echoed in my skull long after the last guest left.Reporters. Flashbulbs. Liana’s voice like glass breaking clean through the noise.“You’re nothing but his replacement.”I’d heard a lot of cruel things in my life, but nothing had ever landed quite like that one.Not because she said it in front of everyone—God knows I’ve been publicly gutted before—but because she meant it. Every syllable came loaded with truth I didn’t want to face.The elevator doors slid open to the penthouse, and the silence hit me harder than the noise downstairs. Everything smelled like expensive champagne and tension—like victory that turned sour halfway through the toast.Scarlett followed me in a few minutes later. She’d changed out of the rose-gold gown, but the glitter still clung to her skin. Her heels clicked against the marble, hesitant for once.“Cassian,” she started softly.I didn’t turn. I was staring out at the city—at the reflection of myself in the gl

-LIANA-By the time I stepped into the Hale Tower again, the city had already chosen its villain.And it wasn’t Scarlett.It was me.The news cycle hadn’t stopped since that damned party. Every headline was the same variation of the same truth they’d built for me: the bitter ex-wife, the jealous mother, the woman who couldn’t let go.They could make me out to be anything they wanted.But what they couldn’t erase was that I was still the one person Cassian Hale couldn’t ignore.The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, and the world I’d left behind years ago came back in one cold rush—glass walls, marble floors, the faint scent of money and ambition.“Ms. Halenti?”I turned. The receptionist smiled too politely. “Mr. Hale and Mr. Halenti are expecting you in Conference Room Twelve.”Of course they were.This wasn’t just another corporate meeting—it was the meeting. The Hale Corporation had decided to join forces with Tristan’s firm for an international tech expansion deal, something

-LIANA-The morning sunlight poured softly through the tall curtains, slicing through the faint haze of steam drifting out from the bathroom.“Mommy, it’s too hot!” Elias’s voice rang out, followed by the sound of splashing water.I laughed under my breath, kneeling beside the tub. “That’s because you keep turning the tap like a little scientist. Sit still, Mr. Genius.”He grinned, his wet curls sticking to his forehead, tiny hands slapping the water just enough to splash me. “You’re wet now!”I sighed, mock-dramatic. “Oh no, whatever will I do?”He giggled, and the sound softened something inside me — something the world hadn’t touched in a long time. These small moments were my only peace left, my reminder that there was still something untainted by the chaos outside those glass towers.When I finished rinsing the soap from his shoulders, I wrapped him in a towel and kissed his cheek. “Go change, sweetheart. Maya’s making breakfast.”Elias nodded and ran off, leaving tiny wet footpr

-TRISTAN- Pain has a voice. It doesn’t scream. It hums — low, constant, like the growl of a machine that won’t shut off. That’s what I woke to. A steady, dull hum under my skin, as though fire had melted its way into my veins and refused to leave. My first breath tore through my lungs like glass. My throat was raw, every inhale sharp and metallic. For a long moment, I didn’t remember where I was — only that the ceiling above me was too white, the lights too dim, the air too sterile. Then came the scent. Antiseptic. Burn cream. Saline. Hospitals. Memory came in pieces. Liana’s face. The crowd. The burn. The sound of her screaming my name. “Tristan!” My body jerked, and immediately, agony answered. A groan tore from my chest before I could stop it. I felt the pull of bandages across my back, skin tightening like it had been stitched with fire. “Easy,” I rasped to no one, half to myself. My voice came out like sandpaper, dry and broken. The room was quiet.