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Ex, Regret All You Want, I’m the Tycoon’s Wife Now! Novel Cover

Ex, Regret All You Want, I’m the Tycoon’s Wife Now!

Given a second chance at life, Celine and Gavin are both reborn. But when history repeats itself and a devastating fire erupts, Gavin makes a shocking choice. Instead of saving Celine, he abandons her to rescue his childhood sweetheart, Kierra. He confesses his deep regret over choosing Celine in their past life, leaving her to perish in the flames. As Gavin walks away, Celine is forced to face a bitter truth: her ex-husband regretted their marriage just as much as she did.
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Chapter 2

Celine's POV

I understood the situation perfectly.

As long as I didn't get married, I'd be stuck living at the Darnell estate and tied to Gavin, with no escape from the endless back-and-forth between us.

Just hearing his name now made my skin crawl.

So I picked up the pen and, stroke by stroke, signed my name on the marriage contract with Max.

With Gavin working behind the scenes to speed things up, the wedding date was decided almost immediately. Whether it was fate or a strategic choice, the ceremony ended up on the same day as Gavin's wedding to Kierra.

...

Max didn't bother to show up on the wedding day. He sent a driver in his place.

Not that I was surprised. We hadn't even met in person.

This marriage wasn't based on compatibility or love. Max had been unhealthy for years, and the Pierson family needed someone to marry him in hopes of bringing him some luck. They likely thought we'd be divorced within a few years. My height, appearance, or looks didn't matter.

As I arrived, Gavin stepped into the venue with Kierra in his arms.

The moment he saw me, his mouth curled into a mocking smirk.

"Celine," he said, lifting an eyebrow, "you've always been a greedy little opportunist. The Piersons have more money and power than your family ever did. Marrying into that? Not exactly a downgrade. At worst, you'll be stuck wiping down a dying man."

Gavin paused, just long enough to let the insult settle. "Don't worry. When that sickly bastard finally kills you, I'll make sure you get a beautiful funeral."

The words were cruel, almost a curse.

But I didn't flinch. I calmly smiled instead.

"Then I wish you and your beloved all the happiness in the world," I replied. "May you have many children, and grow old together."

Gavin wasn't expecting that. His face flickered with surprise for just a moment. He looked at me, as if trying to figure out who I'd become.

Then Kierra tugged gently on his arm and leaned in close, her voice soft and pouty. "Gavin, my back's sore… carry me to our room and give me a massage, will you?"

He blinked as if waking from a trance. Without saying another word, he turned and carried her inside the Darnell estate, smiling all the way.

I felt nothing as well.

Wearing a white dress and holding a bouquet of fresh gardenias still damp from the morning dew, I stepped into the wedding car the Pierson family had sent for me.

...

That night, the so-called bridal chamber was far from romantic. Pierson Manor was old, cold, and silent, resembling more a haunted house than a honeymoon suite.

Still, the air carried a faint trace of sandalwood.

I paused.

It was the same scent I remembered clinging to the man who had pulled me out of the fire.

Could it really be him?

I was staring at my toes, lost in thought, when slow, steady footsteps echoed beyond the door. The soft tap of a cane punctuated each one.

I looked up.

Max stood in the doorway, his eyes fixed on me.

He was... strikingly beautiful.

Skin pale as marble, his eyes dark and sharp like ink dropped in water—clean, elegant features framed by a cold, unreadable expression. There was something regal about how he carried himself, radiating distance, composure, and an untouchable aura.

Under the soft lamplight, Maxwell Pierson didn't even look real. He looked like he'd walked out of a painting.

Before this moment, I'd imagined him as some brutish tyrant, terrifying and violent.

Not this.

His gaze slid over me without emotion. Then he turned his head away.

"My health is poor," Max said flatly. "I sleep lightly. I'm not used to sharing a bed. You can leave. The maids will show you to your room."

On our wedding night, he was kicking me out.

But I didn't argue.

I stood, crossed the room, and quietly poured a cup of tea. I walked over to Max and held it out.

"I'm not leaving," I said, my voice calm. "I'm your wife now. If your health is fragile, it's my responsibility to take care of you. Walking away would be neglect."

Surprise flickered in his eyes before he masked it. He glanced at the tea in my hands, then finally took the cup.

As he brought it to his lips, I added with a small smile, "Besides, if your health improves, that benefits me too. I mean, who wants to go to bed every night next to a gorgeous man they can't even touch?"

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