Ela Osaretin

"Lucien, let's get a divorce," I said in a peremptory tone that was long overdue, the most decisive farewell to this absurd marriage.
We had been married for exactly three years—three years that, for me, were filled with nothing but endless loneliness and torment.
For three years, the husband who should have stood by my side through every storm, Lucien Sullivan, had completely disappeared from my life as if he had never existed. He vanished without a trace, leaving me alone to endure this empty, desolate marriage.
Today, I finally received his message:
"I'm back. Come pick me up at the airport."
When I read his words, my heart leapt with joy, and I raced to the airport, thinking that he finally understood my love and was coming back to me. But his cruelty was far worse than I could have ever imagined—he was accompanied by a pregnant woman, and that woman was Carla, my closest and most trusted friend.
In that moment, all of my previous excitement, all my hope, and all of our shared laughter and tears turned into the sharpest of daggers, stabbing into my heart and leaving me gasping for air.
Now, all I want is to escape from this place that has left me so broken—to lick my wounds in solitude. Even if these wounds will remain with me for the rest of my life, I refuse to have anything to do with him ever again.
He should know that it was his own hand that trampled our love underfoot, that his coldness and betrayal created this irreparable situation. But when he heard those words, he desperately clung to this broken, crumbling marriage, unwilling to let it end—almost as though doing so could rewind time and return everything to how it used to be.
"Aurora, come back. I regret everything!"
Regret? Those simple words stirred no emotion in me—only endless sadness and fury. My heart let out a frantic, desperate scream: It's too late for any of this!

Billionaire's Regret, Too Late!

“What sort of drama is this? There is a real and fake Mrs Sullivan?” That voice sounded in the air.


I turned around to find him walking up to us.


Today, he was dressed, casually in black sweatshirt and sweatpants.


I wanted to lie and say he looked less attractive, I wanted to say he looked better only in suits but I had to admit, the man could look majestic in anything.


“The polygamy is this city is interesting and it seems like both women don’t even know that they’re married to the same man.”


He knows that I was the real Mrs Sullivan so why was he making a joke about this?


I avoided Damon’s gaze, frankly because I hated being in this situation right now.


I didn’t want to put up a fight about being Mrs Sullivan because Lucien wasn’t worth fighting for.


But at the same time, I didn’t want to be labeled as a mistress.


I glanced at Carla who was still looking nervous.


Chapter 24 All I need