My Ex-Husband's Billion-Dollar Regret

Julia Owen POV:

Three years ago, the Hewitt Outfit's massive real estate project on the south bank of Riverhaven came to a grinding halt.

Over two thousand residents had been relocated, their homes demolished to make way for a gleaming new development. But one property, a single, ivy-covered manor, stood defiantly in a key location, holding up the entire enterprise.

That manor was mine.

It was the only thing my parents had left me. After their plane crashed into the ocean, their empire was carved up by treacherous allies and circling vultures. I was a child, passed between relatives who saw me as a meal ticket. By the time I turned eighteen and regained control of the estate, it was a crumbling ruin, home only to stray cats and the ghosts of a life I'd lost.

I spent months cleaning it, but it was uninhabitable. I left it for the strays, a quiet sanctuary I would visit to feel close to my parents.

Then the Hewitt Outfit came. Bulldozers were already parked outside when their men showed up with a contract, their voices cold as they talked about price.

My refusal to sell made Liam Hewitt and me mortal enemies.

His men came in waves. First polite, then threatening. They trespassed, vandalized, and tried to intimidate me.

I was with Cayden by then. He always seemed so helpless, so frustrated on my behalf. He claimed his hands were tied. The Family wouldn't accept our relationship. He wasn't a named partner in the Hewitt Corporation. Liam controlled everything. I knew Cayden resented his uncle, Gordon Hewitt, for sidelining him, so I believed him when he said he couldn't plead my case.

So I fought my own battles. I smashed the window of Liam's car. I threw paint on his men. I became a thorn in the side of the most powerful man in the city.

In the last six months, the attacks lessened. Cayden claimed his constant pleas had finally worked, that Liam had agreed to pause the project. He promised that once we were married, his family would have to respect our union and leave my property alone.

He said we had to wait a year. To build his career, he claimed. To prove himself.

Now I knew the truth. The delay wasn't about his career. It was about Vivian. He didn't want to let her go.

My chest aches. I remember how Vivian, after we graduated, had so eagerly invited me to move in with her. Her parents' two-bedroom apartment. I saw it as a home. I saw her as my only family.

Liam's cool voice cuts through the fog of my memories. "We're here."

The Bentley glides to a stop in front of a sprawling, modern villa. He gets out, walks around, and opens my door. He glances at the two in the back, his expression dismissive. "Julia isn't feeling well. You can get out and call a cab."

Cayden gives Liam a complicated, angry look before pulling a protesting Vivian from the car.

Liam turns back to me. As he reaches across to unbuckle my seatbelt, he doesn't hesitate. In one smooth motion, he sweeps me up into his arms.

A small gasp escapes my lips. The sudden weightlessness makes me instinctively wrap my arms around his neck.

"What are you doing?" Cayden spins around, his voice a raw shout. His shock and anger are even greater than mine. "Put her down!"

Liam merely adjusts his grip, his hand smoothing down the fabric of my dress. A slow, calm smile spreads across his face. "I'm just holding my girl."

He strides confidently up the stone steps toward the front door, carrying me as if I weigh nothing.

A sliver of unease, sharp and cold, pierces through the numbness in my heart.

He leans his head down, his lips brushing my ear as he speaks, his voice a low, private whisper just for me.

"Having fun playing amnesiac?"

---