CEO Regret Short Stories & Novels

After my husband topped the wealth rankings, he hired his first love as his personal housekeeper at a high salary. “Quincy, you hail from humble beginnings. I don’t want you embarrassing me in high society, so I specifically brought in Vivian to teach you the rules. From now on, everything you do must be reported to her for approval.” From that moment on, in public, I was the glamorous Mrs. Lane. However, behind closed doors, to even enjoy simple marital moments with my husband I had to write a thousand-word application seeking Vivian’s approval. Then, my adoptive father had a heart attack. I dropped to my knees, begging her to transfer me five hundred thousand dollars. She laughed coldly. “What kind of surgery costs half a million? Stop making excuses to pad your family’s finances.” “This isn’t a small sum. Write a 10,000-word application, and this time it’s denied.” Rage coursed through me, my body trembling uncontrollably as I spun toward Tyler and fell to my knees, begging him to save my father’s life. There wasn’t even a flicker of emotion on his face. “Vivian did nothing wrong. I know you’re still clinging to your old poor habits even after getting rich, but my money doesn’t grow on trees.” “This time, your father’s medical treatment will be put on hold as a lesson. Next time, don’t blame me if he’s kicked out of the VIP ward.” In the end, my adoptive father died on the operating table due to the delay in treatment. Completely disheartened, I finally asked Tyler for a divorce.

My father was critically ill. I begged my fiancé to keep his post-wedding promise—to withdraw emergency funds from the medical trust fund he had sworn to protect me forever. He refused. The next day, he announced his engagement to Pera. Overnight, I became the laughingstock of everyone. In my deepest despair, my childhood friend Seamus— The heir to a long-established Mafia family— Knelt down in the park and proposed to me in front of everyone. That night, he transferred a large sum of money to my account. I said yes without hesitation and rushed to the hospital to pay for my father's treatment. But he never woke up again. The hospital said he had suffered "unexpected complications." Everything after that—the lawyers, the funeral, all the arrangements—was handled by Seamus. Under the Mafia family's protection, everything went smoothly, and my father was able to be quietly buried. The wedding proceeded as planned. Years later, I overheard a conversation between him and the doctor who treated my father. “Seamus,” the doctor said in a low voice, “You tampered with the organ allocation priority list. You delayed Shirley’s father’s transplant so that Pera’s father could receive an organ transplant in time. You falsified the urgency level. Do you know what will happen if this is exposed?” “The list itself was legal,” Seamus replied after a pause. “I just…adjusted the urgency level.” “You committed medical fraud,” the doctor said sharply. “You ruined his only chance to live. All for Pera. Don’t you regret it?” “I don’t regret it,” Seamus answered without hesitation. “I would do anything for her. Even my life, even the honor of the Mafia family.” “Throughout our marriage, I’ve been trying to make up for everything I owed Shirley. That should be enough.” My vision blurred. Only then did I finally understand— The woman he truly loved was always Pera. "If that's really the case," I thought numbly,"Then I should leave."

Everyone in New York knew I was the Godfather’s heart. Gavin Whitestone’s heart. He loved me for ten years. He’d fly into a rage if I so much as got a paper cut. But he’s the one who gave me these three scars. The first time, he pulled every doctor to treat Sofia, the girl who took a bullet for him, and ignored the shrapnel tearing into my side. The second time, he was drugged and fucking Sofia in his bed. When I walked in on them, he shoved me aside, desperately carrying her to the hospital. The third time, he took my father's last gift to me—a revolver—and gave it to a pregnant Sofia, just to make her smile. He told me, “It’s all for the baby. Once the baby is born, we’ll go back to how we were.” But this time, I didn't forgive him. I threw away every gift he ever gave me and vanished without a trace. And that’s when the untouchable Godfather finally broke.

During my three-year secretive relationship with my boss, Zane Bender, we used 999 condoms. Before Zane dated me, he'd go through 20 partners per month. After he started dating me, he only bedded me and me only. He promised me that he'd give me a surprise on my birthday. I thought it was going to be a grand proposal. But the moment the clock struck 12, Zane called me. "Cassidy, buy a pack of condoms and deliver it to the 31st floor of Mavelon Hotel right now. Remember, I want the extra thin ones." At that moment, I couldn't believe my ears. Before I could react, Zane completely lost his patience. He urged, "Stop standing around! Hurry up and get over here! Lily and I are in the mood right now!" Lily Hubbard was the charming secretary who recently joined the company. My complexion turned pale instantly. "You're sleeping with her, Zane? Then… Then who am I to you?" Zane fell silent for a while. Then, he let out a soft chuckle. "You? You're just a bedwarmer who can help alleviate my urges. That's all." It turned out that the so-called surprise wasn't a proposal. It was just me fantasizing about a relationship that never existed in the first place. The pink bubbles of love and romance finally popped on my 25th birthday. After that, a car accident completely changed everything in my life. When I meet Zane again, he realizes that he can no longer win back the heart of his "pet".

In the Santoro family, there was one rule: the heir marries a daughter from another powerful Family. But Alessio Santoro was crazy. He wanted to marry me, a nobody from a flower shop. He knelt in the family chapel for ten days straight. He even took a bullet fired by his own father, the Don. All just to walk away from his title and run away with me. I held him, crying, begging him to stop. He just smiled and kissed my eyes, wiping my tears. "Don't cry, Thea. As long as I can marry you, it's all worth it." In the end, the Santoros relented. But they had one condition: Alessio would still produce the next heir. Just not with me. He had to have a son with Aurelia Rossi. So I endured. I endured listening to them through the wall, night after agonizing night. I endured the smell of her perfume on his skin, the sight of her marks on his neck every time he kissed me. A year later, Aurelia got pregnant. It was a girl. Alessio begged me, his eyes red. "Just a little longer, Thea." So I waited another year. Finally, news came. Aurelia was pregnant with a boy. I thought we could finally leave, finally be free. But then disaster struck. Aurelia’s daughter had a sudden, violent allergic reaction. Everyone blamed me. They threw me in the cellar and left me to die. And Alessio? He believed them. This time, I was the one who gave up. I walked away from everything.

Ever since she was two, Elara Vane became her twin sister's personal blood bank after the girl was diagnosed with a rare genetic defect. Doctors predicted her sister wouldn't live past eighteen, so her parents and brother doted on her, putting her first in everything. They even blamed Elara, accusing her of "stealing" her sister's nutrients in the womb, claiming it made her sickly. In her past life, no one in the family loved her. Only her fiancé, Dante, truly stayed by her side. But Elara never expected Dante's love had its own agenda. Until her sister accidentally fell off a cliff and needed a full blood transfusion. Dante signed the consent form without hesitation, sending her to the operating table to be the donor. As her blood drained and her consciousness faded, Elara swore that in another life, she would never be her sister's blood bag again! The next time she opened her eyes, she was back to the day after her engagement to Dante...

When Joy Staton, my adoptive sister, fainted in the freezer on her birthday, William Staton, my brother, checked on the security footage in rage. The moment he saw that I was the one who took Joy into the freezer, he kicked me inside without hesitation. Before shutting the door, he stared at me in disgust. “You’ve been pushing your luck a lot these days, huh? If I’d been a second too late, Joy would’ve died!” I wanted to defend myself, but William refused to listen and slammed the door shut. I heard him talking to the bodyguards outside. “If she doesn’t apologize, don’t let her out!” But he did not know that Joy had set the freezer to –58 °F. I did not even have the strength to complain about the freezer being cold. William did not know that the sister he once loved dearly had stopped breathing in the freezer. He had killed his only blood relative left in the world.

I was eight months pregnant, at a charity gala with my husband, Don Massimo, when a rival family hit us. The crowd panicked. I was shoved to the floor, hard. Blood everywhere. Massimo lost his mind, screaming for medics, desperate to save my baby. But when I woke up, they were gone. Both of them. No baby, no Massimo. I remembered the gunfire, Massimo shielding me with his body. A cold dread washed over me. I hauled myself into a wheelchair and raced down the hall. That’s when I heard them—Massimo and the doctor. "Boss, I'm sorry. We did everything we could. The baby… he didn't make it." Tears streamed down my face. They killed my baby. The rival family killed my baby. But his next words shattered my world. "There was only one medical team. I had to make a choice. Bianca… she was carrying my child, too." Massimo sighed, then gave the order. "No one tells Arabella. She'll raise Bianca's son as her own. He will be my only heir." I slapped a hand over my mouth, my vision blurred by tears as I turned away. The man I loved was a lie. Fine. If he wants a war, he'll get one.

To help my "destitute" husband pay off his debts, I scavenged for scraps for five years. My son and I survived on expired canned food. That changed on my son's birthday. I saw him in a bespoke suit, spending millions to celebrate the birthday of the woman he truly loved. That was the moment I realized he was actually the most powerful billionaire on Wall Street. To please the love of his life, he let our child be injected with unknown drugs, leaving him on the brink of death. He even forced me to drain my own blood to save her son. Later, I became someone he could no longer reach. I linked arms with a man far more powerful than him and walked away. That once arrogant man ended up kneeling in the Arctic snow, clutching a photo I had burned, weeping like a stray dog.

On our wedding, my boyfriend of five years, Lucas Hunter, is in the middle of sliding the wedding ring onto my finger when a little boy rushes up to him and hugs his leg. "Daddy, please don't ditch me and Mommy!" At that moment, his first love, Isabella Welch, walks over and shows the paternity test report in front of all the guests. "On the night Lucas and I broke up six years ago, I was already pregnant with his child." Lucas' expression changes drastically. He subconsciously glances at me afterward. "I didn't know about this, Vivian!" "Well, you do now," Isabella cuts him off. "By the way, not only am I your son's biological mother, but I'm also the sole daughter of the richest woman in Andaysia." She then shows Lucas something on her phone. The next moment, his gaze becomes passionate immediately. "I've given up on my marriage alliance just to seek you out, Lucas. I am the woman you should be marrying instead of that…" Isabella eyes me up and down. "Instead of that regular corporate slave." Lucas stays silent only for a moment before retracting the ring that has touched my fingertip. Then, he slides it onto Isabella's finger. I can't believe it. Is this really the man I've loved for the past five years?" "Have you thought this through, Lucas?" Lucas leans in to murmur into my ear, "Vivian, once I've secured the major project in the company with Isabella's help and get custody over my son, I'll give you an even grander wedding." I just chuckle icily in return before leaving the altar without even sparing him a glance. After that, I call Alexander Shaw, an admirer who has loved me for ten years, on the phone. "Are you busy? If not, come here and marry me." Then, I turn back to look at the new couple, who are in the middle of making their vows. Isabelle calls herself the daughter of the richest woman in Andaysia, she says. But how is it possible for me to not know that my mom has swapped me out for another daughter?

During my cousin Monica Bleuthe's birthday party, my boyfriend, Grayson Chapman, who claimed to be on a business trip, suddenly appeared holding her hand and toasting the crowd. We were stunned when our eyes met. Monica hugged his arm intimately. "I forgot to introduce him to you, Ella. This is my boyfriend, Grayson. He's the CEO of the company we worked with last time." Grayson approached me and lowered his voice to say, "It's just a misunderstanding. I'm only pretending to be Monica's boyfriend." We had been in a relationship for four years, and he had never allowed our relationship to go public. He even refused to let me attend any high-end parties with him because he thought I was just an ordinary employee who was not glamorous enough to be introduced to anyone. He had no idea that my father wanted me to gain valuable work experience away from the family business. I hid my identity so that I would be better equipped to take over my family business one day. If I had married Grayson, he would have enjoyed a portion of my family's fortune. Unfortunately, that was no longer possible.

One week before our wedding, my fiancé, my father’s own consigliere, sold him out.He set him up for a FBI raid. My father died in a pool of blood, his eyes wide open, and the once-great Moretti family collapsed overnight. In my darkest hour, Dominic, the Don of the New York Luciani family, showed up with a crew of mercenaries. He didn't just take care of the rat; he gave me total protection. He obsessed over me for three years, even tattooing my name over his heart. I fell for it. I believed he loved me. I let my guard down and stayed by his side, serving as the lead perfumer for the coldest man in the city. Until today. Outside the wine cellar, I overheard him talking to his rival. "Old man Moretti died never knowing who had leaked his location," Dominic said. "But imagine if that stupid woman, Elena, found out," the rival mocked. "If she knew the man who killed her father was the same husband kissing her forehead every night... would she lose her mind?" My hand froze on the cellar door. The rival’s laughter came through the cracks: "You’re cold-blooded, Dominic! Elena thinks you’re her savior. She even wants to give you an heir. She’d never dream the raid that destroyed her life was actually your offering to Sienna."

My best friend, James Swift, went back to the day he was supposed to reconcile with his extremely wealthy birth parents. He was unwilling to be a puppet controlled by the rich, so he was unwilling to return to his birth parents. Hence, he asked me to be his replacement without any hesitation. I looked at his mother, who was wearing a lot of diamond rings, and his father, who was dressed in old-money clothes. I immediately replaced James’s position. It was as if any hesitation would be a huge disrespect to this unexpected wealth. Five years later, James showed up with a DNA report and asked me to leave the Swift family. However, he was too late. After five years, I was no longer just a replacement for him. I was already the right-hand man of Swift Corporation. No one would threaten my status in this family.

My husband, Don Lorenzo, ran New York's underworld. And he's the one who put me in prison. All because his childhood flame, Cassandra Viti—the Viti family princess—killed my father. I was the first one on the scene. The Feds caught me standing over the body. He faked the evidence. Made sure I took the fall. I spent three years in hell. His apology? A single sentence and an unlimited black card. "I owe Cassandra three wishes. Once you're out, once I've paid my debt to her, you'll be my Donna again."

My boyfriend, Miles, finally invited me to his family’s Christmas dinner. I passed out on the way there. Half-conscious, I heard him whisper, “Sorry, Eva. Those thugs said you’re just their boss’s type. Too pretty for your own good, babe. Blame that—not me.” “Don’t be scared. If you help me pay off the debt… maybe they’ll let me have you back. I’ll make it up to you. For the rest of your life, I swear.” He wheeled me through the back of a casino. My family’s casino. The boss he was selling me to… was my brother. Ever since our parents died in a crossfire, my brother had taken full responsibility for me. More than a brother, he’d become a father figure—a protector. My stupid boyfriend should be scared—he had no idea how fiercely my brother protected me, or how ruthless he could be to anyone who dared hurt me.

At my three-year anniversary dinner with Vincent Hartwell, his secretary deliberately poured red wine over my head. I finally reached my breaking point and slapped her in front of all the guests. That very night, the incident spread like wildfire through high society circles. When my mother saw the leaked bedroom photographs of the two of them, the shock triggered a heart attack. She collapsed and died on the spot. When I learned the news, I sank to the floor and cried all night. Meanwhile, Vincent stayed by his secretary's side, comforting her. When he came home, he brushed past my disheveled state without a glance, loosened his tie, and spoke in that careless tone of his. "I've already buried the story. Don't let it happen again. "I have a meeting tonight. Pull yourself together and get to the villa within thirty minutes. Madison needs you." As he walked toward the door, he added over his shoulder, "She's fragile right now because of the pregnancy. If you do anything to harm my only child, I won't forgive you." I listened without crying or arguing. However, after he left, I pulled the divorce agreement from my drawer that I had prepared weeks ago. Beneath it lay my own positive pregnancy test. 'Vincent, I'll leave to find my biological father in three days.' This time, I was really leaving. I would make sure my father paid for every grievance I had endured over the last few years.

My husband is a man with powerful emotions. To keep his adopted sister content, he allocates millions annually for her to spend lavishly. He's concerned about her well-being. Each night, he sits by her, ensuring she settles down. Later, when I was shot and bleeding heavily, requiring immediate aid, he remained utterly indifferent.He directed the entire medical team to his distraught adopted sister instead. I used my remaining strength to call my husband. The phone connected. His voice, tinged with irritation, answered: "What is it now? You're fine, perfectly healthy. Why would you need a doctor?" "Listen, Sofia needs me. Our family's medical resources are spread thin. For minor issues, just bear with it." My heart sank, feeling as if it had turned to ice. He truly is a man with powerful emotions. It's just that the one he truly cares about has never been me.

After getting laid off, I come across a post when I'm looking for a new job. "What sort of job is the most lucrative these days?" There's a comment with the most likes in the comment section. "Find yourself a sugar daddy, duh! My sugar daddy is already the CEO of a company even though he's only in his 30s! He gives me 100 thousand dollars every month. Not only is he handsome and caring, but he's also amazing in bed! Hoo boy, we can keep going around seven times every night!" Someone asks the commentor, "How did you find such an amazing daddy?" "Last May, he was at a bar drinking his sorrows away after an argument with his girlfriend. I consoled him for a bit. That's how we ended up being together. "He kept complaining that his girlfriend was like dead fish in bed, so he was already sick of her a long time ago. You know what men are like, always going for excitement in life." My fingers curled around my phone slightly. Last May, I did get into a huge argument with my boyfriend, Brian Dicht. He never came home that night. The next morning, he returned while reeking of alcohol. I continue scrolling down the comment section, only to see the commentor posting a photo. "See? I was acting all cute and whiny to him just now by telling him that I cut my finger when I was preparing a meal for myself. He agreed to drop by my place to keep me company tonight." In the photo, there's a diamond ring adorning the ring finger that has a plaster wrapped around it. That ring looks exactly the same as the set of engagement rings Brian and I have. At the same time, my phone starts ringing. Soon, Brian's voice drifts from the other end of the line. "Bella, something came up in the company at the last minute. I'm not coming home tonight."

I've been in a secret marriage with my CEO husband, Mitchell Clayton. But Mitchell keeps making our son, Aster Clayton, call him "Uncle Mitch" the whole time. In order to make it up to Aster, Mitchell has given him unlimited wealth. But on the day of Aster's birthday, Mitchell hands over the gift that Aster has been eagerly looking forward to the most to his ex-girlfriend's daughter, Stacy Padilla. The gift is a bouquet of flowers made of handmade lucky stars that I've spent half a year folding. As I stare at the empty table, I feel my heart sinking to the pits of my stomach. Then, I call a real estate agent immediately. "Hello, I'd like to purchase a villa that's located in Northern Yewrope. Make it quick." "A villa? Mr. Clayton's secretary never brought it up to me before. Have you gotten it all mixed up, ma'am?" "No," I reply in a low tone. "I'd like to purchase the villa under my own name. If you breathe a word about this to Mitchell, I'll sue your company under the reason of leaking your clients' privacy." After receiving a positive response from the agent, I end the call. Still, I remain rooted to the spot for a long time. Once I return to the banquet hall, Aster tugs at the hem of my dress. "Mom, where's Uncle Mitch? He promised me that he'd attend my birthday party." I feel tears stinging my eyes as I pull Aster into a hug. "Sweetie, he will never be here. Let's not wait for him anymore, okay? Mommy will bring you to a better place." Stars will cover the sky there. None of them will get stolen ever again. As for a certain father who keeps breaking his promises, he will never get to see us ever again.

My anxiety spiked during our wedding photoshoot. A sharp pain stabbed through my chest. My fiancé, Caius—the Falcone family heir—was helping his adoptive sister, Fiorella, try on my wedding dress. He didn't even spare me a glance. He was on one knee, focused on adjusting the lace on Fiorella’s hem. Before we’d even left the shop, Fiorella posted a selfie in the dress. She was all smiles, my fiancé standing beside her, posed like her groom. Calmly, I pulled out my phone. I sent a message to a painter I keep on retainer. "A royal portrait. The two of them. Old-world style. Use the cheapest materials you can find. I want the frame dripping with fake diamonds. Make it look like trash." I'll have it sent to Fiorella. A wedding present. The note will be simple. "A work of art as priceless as your bond. Best wishes on your wedding."