The Billionaire's Regret Harriet And Damien Mga Nobela at Kwento

The morning hadn’t even stretched into full daylight when Clara burst into Sophia’s office, phone in hand, face carved with worry. “You need to see this,” she said, placing the screen gently but urgently on Sophia’s desk. The headline pulsed at the top of a national blog: “Former Billionaire’s Mother Breaks Silence: ‘Sophia George Is a Threat to Stability’” Sophia’s eyes narrowed. Her fingers stiffened around the ceramic mug. Below it played a video of Camilla Hart,Liam’s mother. Poised. Perfectly coiffed in her signature bun and pearl necklace. But her words were sharp enough to cut steel.

Daniel asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement. I grinned mischievously. "Oh, I have a few ideas." Daniel raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Do tell." I leaned in, my voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. "Let's just say...we're going to make Alex very unhappy." Daniel's eyes widened in surprise, but then he laughed. "I'm in." With our visas in hand, we finally left the state and embarked on a romantic getaway to a beautiful beachside resort. The warm sun on our skin, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, and the stunning scenery all around us made for a perfect setting to rekindle our love.

The familiar voice made the blood in my veins freeze, my heart thumping wildly. Grinding my teeth to the point of breaking, I forced out the words from my lips “No. I will pay for it myself.” “How can I let you do so? I was trained to be a gentleman,” Damien insisted. A sigh escaped my lips as I looked at him, placing my hands on my hips “I will stop patronizing the store then.” I threatened. Damien was one of the acquaintances I knew in this city. It started first as a love interest, but he was kind to get the idea that I had a boyfriend.

He remembered standing at the funeral as a young man, staring at the coffin and wondering how someone who had seemed so powerful could disappear from his life so completely. After that day, Damien stopped being a son. He became a man obsessed with revenge. He worked. He expanded. He bought companies. He destroyed competitors. He built an empire so enormous that nobody could look down on him anymore. But none of it brought his father back. None of it gave him back the years he had lost. And none of it made the anger disappear. Then Cynthia Hart appeared. At first, Damien had thought it was fate handing him an opportunity. Thomas Hart had a daughter.

Then I closed my phone and looked out at the dark sky. “Let them come,” I whispered. ~~~~~~ In a quiet restaurant across the city, Damian sat at a private table opposite a sharp-eyed woman with dark hair and a predatory smile. Evelyn Hart. The journalist who nothing ever passed through her. She placed a recorder on the table between them, her manicured nails tapping against the metal. “So,” she said smoothly, “you want me to destroy your ex-wife’s image. Why?” Damian’s jaw tightened, his expression unreadable. “Because she is not telling the truth ”

And then she pulled out a slim white envelope. “A cheque for a million dollars,” she said. “Take it. Under one condition. Leave my son alone.” I stared at her. “Your... son? I’m sorry, you must have me mistaken for someone else.” I made to walk away, but she continued. “Damien. You didn’t know his last name, did you? His real last name?” she smiled. “That’s the first clue. You’re just a phase. A distraction.” I froze. Damien had told me he was an orphan, but then here was this woman who he shared a striking resemblance with, calling him her son. “He never—he never said—”

“Actually, let’s not waste time. I’m not interested in whatever game you’re playing. I don’t need anyone to force me into a loveless marriage.” Damien Cross leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. “Game?” “Blind dates, contracts, whatever this is,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “I’m not here for your convenience or your money.” To her surprise, he chuckled; it was a low and amusing sound. “Direct. I like that.” She bristled. This wasn’t going according to her plan. “Let me guess,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “You think I’m some arrogant billionaire who uses his money to get whatever he wants.”

Deciding not to engage in further argument, Damien chose to proceed with the original intention he had in mind when he got out of his car. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a crumpled hundred-dollar bill, and extended it toward her. "Here... this should cover a new outfit and some extra for your needs." He hadn't anticipated the resounding slap from Aella after his words had left his mouth. Damien Sullivan, the CEO of Damien Fashion World, a multi-billion-dollar company, was slapped by a commoner. Rage welled up inside him at the thought. His ego was more than bruised, and Aella didn't seem to mind as she grabbed the dollar note from his outstretched hand and tore it to shreds.

Hart said and Damien nodded. “Being busy,” he replied. Brook moved closer to them with Lydia and smiled at Damien. “Damien,” he called cheerfully and Damien stared back and forth between him and Lydia which Brook noticed. “Oh, my fiancé. Lydia.” Brook said and Damien looked at Bryan. “Wasn't she yours?” he asked. “Yeah, but he lost her.” Brook joked and Lydia laughed. “Hmm, I guess it's a common thing amongst the Harts to steal,” Damien replied.

Everything stopped, cause I'm standing in front of our reserved table and he's still seated. He looked up; and that slow, sinful smile crept up his beautiful face. "No." I breathed. Damien stood, gesturing to the chair in front. "Good evening, Ms Harriet." I stared, and stared and stared. "You’re the investor?" Damien said nothing as he helped me to my seat. "My apologies, Ms Harriet. The mistake was from my legal team, but I did tell them not to let you know when I found out who you really were." He said, and I frowned.