
Too Late To Want Me Back, Ex Husband!
For five years, Elara was the "peasant" wife, the woman who gave her kidney to save Shawn's life, only to be rewarded with his cold indifference and his family's verbal abuse. She was the dutiful housewife, hiding her true identity as the world's most feared cybersecurity genius, and the secret heiress to a global empire. She stayed for love. She stayed for the hope of a family.
But hope dies in a cold swimming pool.
When Shawn pushes a pregnant Elara into the water to save his mistress, he not only breaks her heart, he kills the only thing she had left to love.
Waking up in a hospital bed with an empty womb and a frozen heart, Elara is done playing nice. As Shawn prepares to discard her for his mistress, he's met not with a weeping wife, but with the arrival of five of the most powerful men in the world-Elara's brothers.
Now, the "peasant" is the predator. While Shawn's empire begins to crumble under a mysterious cyber-attack, he finds himself desperately chasing the woman he once despised. But Elara has already moved on to a man who never had to be taught her value.
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Chapter 5
ELARA
I was drowning.
I fought the water with every ounce of strength I had left, but I was fighting the panic too. The trauma dragged me under like a physical weight-the jagged memory of the first time I had met Shawn.
He had saved me then, a nerdy girl being tormented by bullies who thought it was fun to try and drown me inside the school pool.
I could still hear their high-pitched laughter. I could still feel their small, cruel hands forcing my head down. I remembered the burning in my chest, the terror, and the absolute helplessness.
I had hated the water ever since.
And yet, knowing my past-knowing that water was my greatest fear-he had pushed me into it. He knew it traumatized me. He knew I could die.
He wasn't just angry. He was trying to murder me.
The realization was harder and colder than the water flooding my lungs.
I struggled, my limbs thrashing weakly as I refused to let my story end in this dark, silent deep. I refused to let my revenge be stalled before it even began. I refused to let my baby die.
Yet... my muscles burned with exhaustion, my chest screamed for oxygen, and my vision blurred into a stinging, chlorine-stained haze.
I tried to scream, but I only swallowed more of the pool's emptiness. I sank, my body growing heavier with every passing second, my silk dress tangling around my legs like a snare. Tears spilled even underwater...
Please...
My thoughts began to scatter as the darkness crawled closer, whispering for me to just let go.
In those final seconds, I wanted to call my father. I wanted my brothers.
A wave of regret swamped me, more suffocating than the water. I should have listened to them when they warned me. I should have listened when they fought against this marriage, when they begged me not to donate a part of my body to a man they didn't trust.
I should have-
I heard a splash. Distant. Muffled.
Did Shawn come back for me? Did he finally remember who I was to him? Did he actually care?
Did he-
The darkness claimed me before I could find the answer.
-
When I regained consciousness, the rhythmic beep of a monitor was the first thing I heard.
I floated in the gray space between sleep and awareness, my body feeling like it was made of lead and my head pounding with a thrum. The sharp, sterile scent of antiseptic settled over me before my mind could fully catch up.
Hospital.
When I finally managed to peel my eyes open, they found a stark white ceiling, the edges blurred. Slowly, my gaze drifted down to a nurse in pale blue scrubs, flipping through a chart at the foot of my bed.
"Hey..." I croaked. My throat felt like it had been scrubbed with sandpaper. My voice was barely a rasp.
Her eyes widened slightly, and she rushed to my side. "Hey, Miss Elara. Take it easy. How are you feeling?"
"Fine..." I whispered weakly, swallowing against the pain. "Water..."
She nodded quickly, pouring water into a plastic cup. She slid a hand behind my head to support me, tilting the straw to my lips. The first sip burned like fire. The second was heaven.
"How do you feel now?" she asked softly, her eyes full of a professional kind of pity.
"Better..." I murmured. I tapped her wrist gently with a trembling hand. "Can you lift me up? I want to sit up..."
She hesitated, her eyes flickering to the monitors, torn between caution and compassion.
"It's okay," I assured her quietly, trying to find a spark of my old strength. "I think I'm fine..."
With a soft sigh, she adjusted the bed, the motor whirring as it propped me up.
"Thank you," I whispered, leaning back against the thin pillows. "Has anyone come for me? What hospital is this?"
"You are in Gracefilled Hospital," she replied. "And yes, the gentleman who brought you in... he's been checking on you every hour."
For a second, my heart twisted with a phantom hope. Shawn?
Then she added, "He says he's your friend. Your lawyer, to be exact."
I shut my eyes as the hope died a cold death. Cassius. Of course it was him.
He must have come to the party to pay his respects to Grandpa Max. He must have noticed I was missing. He was the only one who ever looked for me. He must have followed the trail of destruction Shawn left behind and found me drowning in the dark.
Tears slipped from under my lids before I could stop them.
When I opened them again, the nurse looked alarmed.
"Are you in pain anywhere? Should I call the doctor?"
I shook my head slowly. The pain wasn't something a doctor could fix. It lived in the hollow of my chest. It lived in my memories.
It was pain, and a crushing gratitude. Cassius had saved me from being murdered by my own husband.
"There was an old man who came earlier, too," she added gently. "Your grandfather?"
My throat tightened. What had those people told Grandpa Max? Had anyone checked the CCTV, or had Shawn already erased the evidence? Did the old man believe their lies about me pushing Miranda?
Ignoring the pounding in my skull, I asked for my phone. She retrieved it from the bedside drawer and handed it over.
"Thank you..."
As she turned to leave, a cold remembrance slammed into my gut, turning my blood to ice.
The pregnancy kit. The double red lines. My baby.
"Wait!" I called out, my voice cracking with panic.
She turned back, her expression shifting into something guarded and somber. "Yes?"
"My baby..." My hand drifted to my stomach, trembling. "My baby... is it still okay?"
The nurse didn't speak. Her lashes dropped, her gaze fixed firmly on the floor.
The silence was the only answer I needed.
A weak, broken sound tore out of me as I clutched my stomach. My breath hitched, my chest collapsing inward as the world tilted on its axis.
When she tried to step closer to comfort me, I shook my head desperately, waving her away.
She hesitated for a second, then quietly slipped out of the room.
And I finally broke.
I screamed, gripping my stomach, as sobs ripped violently out of me. The fat hot ears soaked the thin hospital gown, the sheets, and my shaking hands. My shoulders heaved with a grief that felt too massive for me to hold.
Shawn had almost killed me. But he had successfully killed my baby. He had snuffed out a life while my own kidney was the only reason he was still breathing.
How wicked could a man be? How could he be so heartless to the woman who gave him everything?
My hands shook as I wept uncontrollably, as I scrolled through my contacts, my blurred vision stopping at a name I hadn't dared to call in five long, lonely years.
Dad.
It was time to go home. I couldn't carry this weight alone anymore. If I tried, I knew it would finally kill me.
The phone rang twice before a deep, familiar voice answered.
"Hello?"
I swallowed hard, biting down on my lower lip until I tasted copper. "Dad..." I whispered. "It's me."
A long, heavy pause followed.
"Elara?"
"Dad..."
"Oh my God! Elara!" His voice broke, the shock quickly turning into intuition as he heard my agonizing sobs. "Elara? What's the matter? Why are you crying? Where are you?"
His tone sharpened with a parental panic, and I could hear my oldest brother in the background, demanding to know what was wrong.
"Elara, tell me where you are! Talk to me! Did that bastard do something to you?!"
My sobs worsened, choking the words I desperately wanted to say. I couldn't breathe, let alone explain the horror of the last few hours. I ended the call because the silence was the only thing I could manage.
My baby...
With wet trembling fingers, I typed out the name of the hospital and hit send.
When he arrived with my five brothers, I would tell them everything. No more hiding.
And then, I would let them help me burn Shawn's world to the ground.
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9.3
On her wedding night at The Plaza Hotel, Clara went looking for her husband.
Instead, she found him in the dimly lit parking garage, passionately pinning down her bridesmaid.
She couldn't even scream or expose them. Just hours before the ceremony, Julian had tricked her into signing away her twenty percent shares of their co-founded company, leaving her completely penniless and unable to pay her grandmother's life-saving medical bills.
Fleeing in absolute despair, a sudden hotel blackout plunged her into a second nightmare. She was dragged into a pitch-black room and brutally violated by a heavily drugged stranger.
When a shattered Clara returned to the office to audit the books and reclaim her power, Julian demoted her to a dusty desk by the trash cans.
He flaunted his mistress in the executive suite and deliberately sent Clara into a horrifying trap. He arranged for vicious clients to drug and assault her, demanding high-definition blackmail photos so he could divorce her with absolutely nothing.
"Since you want to play rough, you can service Mr. Petrocelli tonight," the thug sneered, locking the VIP room door.
Clara was pushed to the brink of hell. Why was the man she devoted three years of her life to trying to destroy her so completely? And why did the freezing cedarwood scent of the stranger who ruined her in the dark perfectly match Conrad Vance, the ruthless CEO and Julian's untouchable uncle?
Rather than let Julian win, Clara smashed a glass bottle, held the jagged edge to her own throat to force the men back, and threw herself off the second-floor balcony into the freezing night.
But the bone-crushing impact never came. A massive figure shot out from the shadows and caught her, and her brutal counterattack finally began.

8.4
For twenty years, I lived as the adopted daughter of the wealthy Hill family.
But today, they forced me to sign a severance agreement and kicked me out so their precious biological daughter, Malia, could marry my fiancé.
To ruin me completely, they framed me for stealing Malia's engagement bracelet, threatening me with prison.
I calmly exposed the "sapphire" as cheap glass, then rolled up my sleeves to show the reporters my scarred, punctured arms.
For two decades, I wasn't a daughter. I was Malia's living blood and bone marrow bank.
They drained my health to keep her alive, even ordering doctors to ignore my failing organs just so she could attend a gala.
"Take this million dollars and shut your mouth," my adoptive father sneered, throwing a check at my feet.
My ex-fiancé looked at me with disgust, and Malia screamed that I was a crazy, vindictive liar.
They had stolen my life and my health, yet they still looked down on me like I was garbage.
I ripped the check into pieces and threw it in their faces.
Just as they ordered the butler to drag me out, a group of men in black suits shattered the chaos.
The heir of the untouchable Montgomery dynasty stepped through the door, ignoring the Hills' fawning, and handed me a DNA report.
I wasn't a disposable blood bag. I was the long-lost true heiress of old New York money.
And now, I was going to take back everything they stole from me.

9.8
Adeline's stepmother had secretly drugged her for years, turning a child genius into a drooling, mentally disabled laughingstock just so her stepsister could steal her life.
But when her greedy father sold her off to Griffin Herring—a violent, untouchable billionaire psychopath—to save his company, things took a deadly turn.
Before the wedding, Griffin attacked her in a dark alley, nearly snapping her neck before stealing her grandfather's silver necklace.
That necklace held a micro-drive with her family's deepest secrets, and without it, she had nothing.
Back at the estate, her situation only worsened. Her stepsister Damaris paraded around in the Herring family's diamond engagement gifts, trying to force-feed Adeline wet dog food on an Instagram live stream.
When Adeline's calculated "clumsiness" ruined the video, her furious father locked her in a damp, rusted basement.
"Give her to the psycho," her stepmother hissed through the door. "Let him lock her away forever."
Listening from the shadows, Adeline's fists clenched until her palms bled.
Her supposed mental fog wasn't a tragedy—it was a calculated assassination of her mind. They had destroyed her childhood and were now throwing her to a monster just to keep the billions.
The dull, empty look in Adeline's eyes vanished instantly, replaced by a razor-sharp, chilling clarity.
She pulled a thin surgical needle from her messy bun and picked the heavy iron padlock in ten seconds. It was time to break into the billionaire's penthouse, take back her necklace, and tear them all apart.

9.7
For three years, I was the dutiful wife of billionaire Ervin Valdez.
On our third wedding anniversary, he came home smelling of his mistress's perfume, pinned me down, and brutally mocked me.
His mistress, Sylvia, had even sent me a fake ultrasound report to force me out of the picture.
In Ervin's eyes, I was just a vicious, calculating liar who used a pregnancy to trap him into marriage.
He didn't care that I had actually lost that baby, nor did he know the trauma of my gambling father selling me to a dark club where I was assaulted by a stranger.
When I finally handed him the signed divorce papers, giving up all assets, and left the penthouse with nothing but an old suitcase, he just sneered.
"She is playing a game of hard to get. She won't last three days before she comes crying back."
He froze all my bank accounts, let his mistress humiliate me in public, and waited coldly for me to starve and beg.
He thought my entire existence relied on his wealth, completely confident that I would inevitably surrender to his control.
But he was wrong.
I calmly opened my old laptop, bypassed the complex encryptions, and looked at the dozens of unread emails from top-tier global brands begging for my return.
I resurrected my hidden identity as the legendary jewelry designer "R," and walked straight into the top design firm in Manhattan.
"It is time to find myself again."

7.5
Elena Vale's life is carefully controlled, molded by strict family expectations and an arranged marriage she never wanted. But the night before her wedding, a shocking betrayal turns her world upside down. One scandalous mistake leaves her publicly humiliated, her engagement broken, and her future uncertain.
Just when all hope seems lost, Adrian Blackwood, a powerful and enigmatic billionaire, offers her a lifeline: a contract marriage. Thrust into a world of wealth, power, and danger, Elena must navigate his dominance, protect her independence, and confront those who seek to destroy her.
As tension and attraction build between them, Elena discovers her own strength and resilience, while Adrian reveals sides of himself he has long kept hidden. Together, they face betrayal, ambition, and jealousy, learning that love can emerge from the most unexpected circumstances.
In the end, Elena claims her dignity, her future, and a love forged on her own terms.

9.3
Charlene was locked in a Swiss asylum by the wealthy Gay family, force-fed antipsychotics until her hands shook violently.
Her adoptive brother, Columbus, dragged her out of the psych ward merely to parade her as a prop for the paparazzi.
He had locked her up to get a psychiatric evaluation, ensuring she was declared legally insane and unable to claim her massive trust fund.
The moment she returned to the estate, the torment worsened.
Her other brother, Antwan, kicked her to the ground and shattered her wrist on the gravel.
"You lost your legal rights, you stupid bitch," he sneered, while the staff blindly ignored her agony.
Her childhood bedroom was completely gutted and given to a distant cousin.
Worse, she discovered Columbus was secretly sleeping with Isabela—the fake heiress who had framed Charlene in the first place.
Every trace of her existence in the family was being violently scrubbed away.
She had lost her dignity, her health, and the baby the doctors claimed had died in the delivery room.
She couldn't understand why the family she loved hated her so viciously, stripping away everything she had.
That was until she saw a little boy in the hospital hallway, a perfect, miniature replica of her own face.
Clutching the gold-crested cufflink he dropped, she realized the asylum's doctor had stolen him.
Her baby was alive.
With her heart turned to stone, Charlene made a silent vow to crawl out of hell and burn the Gay family to the ground.