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Billionaire’s Regret: The One He Lost Novel Cover

Billionaire’s Regret: The One He Lost

Ava gave her all to her marriage with the wealthy Silas, but he met her devotion with coldness and betrayal. After he abandons her for someone else, she chooses to leave him behind and rediscover her true self. As Ava thrives in her newfound independence, Silas is haunted by the weight of his errors. The once-indifferent billionaire now faces a painful path of regret, desperate to reclaim the heart of the woman he once took for granted.
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Chapter 3

A loud crash sent the couple in the room jumping, cutting their frantic, heated activity dead in its tracks. Caught completely off guard, Grant Smith scrambled to yank the blanket up over himself and the woman pressed to his side.

"Who the hell has the nerve to crash my good time..." Grant started to roar, but the second he recognized Braxton Payne’s face, his tone curdled into something sickly sweet and ingratiating.

"Mr. Payne? What brings you by here?"

Despite the irritation simmering under his skin, Grant dropped straight into a submissive stance the second he was in Braxton’s presence.

Braxton ignored him completely. His sharp, cutting gaze was locked straight on the woman hidden under the blanket. His eyes were ice, his voice thick with barely contained rage. "So desperate to spread your legs for Mr. Smith, huh?"

The woman under the covers snuggled deeper into Grant’s side, her voice playing sweet and flirty. "Mr. Smith, what’s going on?"

That’s when Braxton’s anger boiled over. "Maxine, get the hell out here!" he demanded.

When the person under the blanket didn’t move a muscle, Braxton’s fury only spiked. He stormed across the room to the bed and ripped the blanket clean off.

"Ah—"

The startled woman shrieked and immediately curled herself into Grant’s chest.

When he saw the naked woman wasn’t Maxine Mason, Braxton’s frown only deepened. The tension in the room was still palpable., but a faint, unexpected wave of relief washed through him anyway.

Grant was quick on the uptake; he immediately clocked that Braxton was here looking for Maxine.

"You looking for Miss Mason?"

Braxton’s cold gaze snapped over to Grant. "Where is she?"

"Miss Mason isn’t here. After she left the party, she said she had something important to take care of and bailed."

"Didn’t Miss Mason come back to the inn with you?" Braxton’s sharp eyes narrowed, a heavy, suffocating pressure rolling off him.

"No!" Grant shot back firmly.

Even an idiot could see it now: Braxton didn’t just see Maxine as another fling.

At first, Grant had been annoyed Maxine bailed halfway, planning to get what he wanted from her another day. Now? He counted himself lucky she’d left when she did. If he’d actually slept with Braxton’s girl, he’d be six feet under by morning.

"Carry on, Mr. Smith. I won’t keep bothering you," Braxton said, the hostility melting off his posture. He gave a quick, sharp nod of goodbye before turning and striding out the door.

...

Maxine was soaking in the bathtub, and every time she closed her eyes, Braxton’s cold, indifferent face flashed through her mind. Their run-in tonight had made one thing painfully clear: where she stood with him was nowhere.

A sudden, insistent knock on the door pulled her out of her thoughts. She wrapped a towel tight around her body and pulled the door open.

The man barged right in, kicked the door shut with his boot, and pinned her flat against the wall before she could even blink.

The familiar, woody scent of his cologne made Maxine’s heart skip a little. "Braxton, what are you doing here?"

"Weren’t you supposed to be with Grant tonight?" he asked, his dark eyes boring straight into hers, displeasure written all over his face.

Thinking about her flirting with Grant earlier was what had set him off.

"Something important came up. I rescheduled with him for another day."

Braxton’s gaze darkened, and his grip on her wrist tightened until it ached. "What, am I not enough for you? You’re that desperate to climb into another man’s bed?"

Staring into his furious eyes, something stirred in Maxine’s chest. "You told me you didn’t care if I saw other people. Why are you mad now? Is it possible…?"

Before she could finish her sentence, Braxton’s hot, open-mouthed kisses started trailing down her collarbone, claiming every inch of her skin.

Panicked, Maxine tried to shove him away, but she never stood a chance—he only held her tighter.

Under any other circumstances, she would’ve leaned right into him, matched every bit of his hunger. But remembering his cold, callous words from tonight gave her a burst of unexpected strength, and she pushed him off.

"Braxton, what are you doing here this late?"

Braxton frowned, no apology for his hunger in sight. "I came to be with you."

"I’m not feeling well tonight. If you need company, go find someone else."

With that, Maxine turned to walk away.

"I only want to be with you right now!" Braxton wasn’t about to let her escape. He dragged her back into his arms and crashed his mouth against hers again, the kiss so deep it swallowed every one of her protests and struggles whole.

After their passionate encounter, Braxton’s hand wandered slowly up and down her smooth back.

"Why weren’t you into it earlier? Was I not good enough for you?"

Usually, when they were together, she’d bend over backwards to please him. But just now, she’d felt distant, detached, and it left him frustrated and unfulfilled.

Seeing Braxton still hungry for more, Maxine dropped her gaze, a heavy, hollow sadness settling in her chest.

His tenderness, his fiery passion—they only ever came out in these moments, behind closed doors. That’s all they ever would be.

Maxine was quiet for a long time before she finally worked up the courage to say what she’d been thinking. "Braxton… let’s end this."

She quietly bent to grab her clothes off the floor and pulled them on quickly. A dull ache throbbed low in her abdomen as she clutched at her stomach, probably from how rough Braxton had been earlier.

"What did you just say?" Braxton’s surprise melted fast into a frosty, biting glare.

"I said let’s end this. I don’t want to keep this relationship going anymore."

He would never marry her. And she didn’t want to just be his dirty little secret forever. She was scared if this kept going, she’d get tangled up so deep she’d never find her way out.

Braxton’s gaze went dark, a bone-deep chill rolling off him. "Why?"

"I’m twenty-five now. I want to find someone to marry, settle down."

She’d been with Braxton for five years. She wasn’t going to waste another minute of her life waiting for something that would never happen.

She was tired of living like this, always hidden, always a secret.

"Marriage?" Braxton’s eyes narrowed. "I thought you were smarter than this, Maxine. Wanting marriage from me is fucking naive."

Maxine gave a bitter, wobbly smile. "Braxton, I’m just a normal girl. It’s normal to want a marriage and kids. My youth doesn’t last forever. I can’t just be your lover forever."

Braxton’s face stayed blank, unreadable. He dressed quickly, then cast one detached, cold glance at Maxine. "I suggest you think this through carefully before you talk to me about this again."

"I already have. A man like you never runs out of women throwing themselves at you. Losing me won’t matter one bit."

Now that she’d made her decision, she’d forced herself to steel up enough to take this step. She knew if she stayed, she’d never work up the courage to walk away again.

Seeing how determined she was, Braxton’s face darkened even more, and he stormed out slamming the door behind him.

When he left Maxine’s apartment, Braxton’s face was colder than ice.

Sitting in the car, his driver could feel the tension thick enough to cut with a knife, and he glanced over cautiously, voice barely a whisper. "We not staying here tonight, sir?"

Usually, when Braxton came to see Maxine, he stayed until early morning. Why was he leaving so early tonight?

"Take me home," Braxton said, his gaze burning so hot with anger it looked like it could set the whole car on fire.

The driver didn’t dare ask another question and immediately turned the key in the ignition.

The room still smelled like them, still held the faint traces of what they’d just done. Left alone, Maxine’s mind kept circling back to Braxton, over and over.

Determined not to let him get to her anymore, Maxine changed into clean clothes and texted her friend Samantha to meet her for drinks.

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