All Chapters of BILLIONAIRE’s REGRET : I MARRIED EX- HUSBAND ENEMY: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

-LIANA-The morning light slanted through the curtains — too bright, too ordinary for a world that had cracked open the night before.I hadn’t slept. Not since I arrived home just to see Elias. Not when I took a hot shower to calm my nerves.The smell of antiseptic still clung to my clothes. Even after the shower, I could feel the hospital on me — cold, sterile, humming with machines that had kept Tristan alive through the night.Every time I closed my eyes, I saw it again.The flash of movement.The hiss of liquid.The way he’d shoved me aside without hesitation, his body intercepting the acid meant for mine.The way I saw pain flashing across his faceMy hands trembled as I poured myself coffee I didn’t want. I gripped the edge of the counter, breathing slow, deliberate breaths, trying to steady myself.Across the room, the television flickered silently.Every channel showed the same thing — us.THE HALE CORP ACID ATTACK, the headlines screamed.Clips replayed the chaos on loop: Tri

-LIANA-By the time the doctors cleared me to stay overnight, the hospital corridors had turned quiet.That heavy, late-afternoon quiet where everything feels suspended — grief, anger, exhaustion — waiting to see which will break first.Tristan was resting again, his breaths shallow but steady. His arm was still bandaged, his shoulder propped up by pillows to stop the burn from pulling too tight.I sat in the chair beside his bed, scrolling through the endless stream of news updates.Each headline twisted the truth a little more.“Acid Attack Mystery: Rival CEOs Targeted?”“Who Wanted Liana Halenti Dead?”“Scarlett Hale Breaks Down in Tears.”Of course she did.Scarlett always knew how to cry when the cameras were rolling.I drove Elias back home and he’s with Maya for the evening, and the quiet without him felt too sharp. Too cold.I wasn’t used to stillness anymore.The door opened softly, and Detective Argen stepped in — tall, mid-40s, his coat still smelling faintly of rain.“Ms.

-TRISTAN-When the afternoon comes to a brittle close, Detective Argen returns with the new lead: the shell company had a phone number listed—prepaid burner, routed through a series of VOIP accounts. Someone nagged a point into the system and had used a courier service to pick up the chemicals. The forensics hadn’t established prints on the canister that were usable, but they matched a gait profile—tall, left-handed. Left-handed—small, useful detail. The cloak of anonymity thins when the hunter has patience.I call in a favor—one of the people I never like owing a debt to—and have him pull CCTV in a two-mile radius around the delivery path. We line up times, walk patterns, the moments when deliveries pass and trucks idle. If the attacker rented a van, we’ll see it somewhere. If someone miscoded their route and looped around security a second time, we’ll find it. I dig into every logistical seam. I make calls that are rude and necessary.The ward fades while I work. My phone becomes a

-SCARLETT REED-Three months can feel like a lifetime when you’re lying every single day.The war between Hale International and Valenti Corp had only grown louder, sharper, bloodier.Headlines screamed rivalry. Stock markets trembled.Executives switched sides like frightened animals sensing an earthquake before it hit.And in the center of it all was Cassian Hale — farther from me than he had ever been.I watched him from the doorway of his office now, his silhouette sharp against the skyline windows. Nights had carved shadows into his cheeks. His hair was messier these days, his jaw constantly clenched. He barely slept. Barely smiled.And worst of all?He barely touched me.I rested a hand on the swell beneath my silk blouse.Or rather… what was supposed to be a swell.Behind the stiff fabric was nothing but layered silicone and elastic straps digging into my ribs.I hated it.I loved what it gave me.I needed what it promised.But each day it felt more impossible to maintain.Beca

-CASSIAN HALE-I woke to cold sheets.Again.The left side of the bed — Scarlett’s side — was untouched, the comforter still neatly tucked, her pillow still molded to the shape of her head from last night.For months now, she’d been slipping out of bed before dawn, claiming nausea, insomnia, the “pregnancy hormones” she said were ruining her sleep.I ran a hand through my hair and exhaled. Hormones. Right. That was normal.Still…The silence of the penthouse felt too heavy. Too hollow. Too unfamiliar.I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, letting the cold morning air bite my skin awake, and reached for the robe hanging over the chair. My back ached from a night of restless turning — ever since the charity gala where I saw the boy, something inside me refused to settle.Those gray eyes…I pushed the thought down like I had been doing for weeks. No. No. It was impossible. Liana had betrayed me. She had. She had. My jaw clenched.I needed coffee. And Scarlett. Preferably calm, emotio