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She Chose Him, I Chose Her Ruin Novel Cover

She Chose Him, I Chose Her Ruin

While driving to meet a client, a billionaire is shocked when his car's navigation system suddenly speaks in a playful, highly intimate male voice named Billie, talking of elopement and personal cravings. Recognizing the custom settings, he calls his wife, Carolyn Stafford, who admits she recently borrowed his Porsche. Uncovering this unsettling clue of a hidden relationship, he laughs off his suspicion over the phone before immediately steering his car toward Carolyn's office to confront the truth.
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Chapter 3

"Mrs. Stafford spent a fortune on Billie. Everyone in the industry praises Mrs. Stafford for loving her kingdom more than handsome men. Hahaha!”

“Exactly,” said the portly man, picking up his glass. “Billie, why don't you join us in toasting Mrs. Stafford?”

I stopped in my tracks, my hand frozen mid-motion to open the door. 

Carolyn was allergic to alcohol and never drank. Even during social gatherings, I always stood in front of her to take the brunt of the drinking. 

I looked at the wine glass on Carolyn's table and at Billie, who was acting coy, “I'm not drinking. Our Carol wouldn't want that."

“Is that right?"

Billie clung to Carolyn's arm and to my surprise, Carolyn actually picked up the glass, her expression calm as she looked at the man.

“Billie doesn't drink. Since we're toasting, why don't I drink with you, Sir?"

I watched Carolyn down the glass of wine. 

The private room erupted in cheers and Billie, flushed, praised Carolyn as a hero. 

Carolyn smiled affectionately and pinched his cheek, making my body feel as though it had been sliced by a rusty, dull knife, leaving gruesome, terrifying wounds.

I watched myself become riddled with holes, still hoping maybe there was some misunderstanding.

But then, my childhood friend steadied me as I swayed on my feet, ready to charge in and confront Carolyn, “I’m going in to tear that bastard apart.”

I stopped my childhood friend, pulled out my phone and dialed Carolyn's number. 

I clung to a sliver of hope, wanting her to give me an explanation, to tell me if there was something else going on. 

I watched as Carolyn picked up the phone on the table, her expression complex as she looked at Billie.

Seeing that, Billie immediately hung up without hesitation, hugged her arm and reminded her, “You promised to stand up for me, right?"

Billie stared stubbornly at Carolyn, “Right, Carol?”

I stubbornly dialed Carolyn's phone repeatedly, making the screen on the table lit up and then went dark, then lit up again until finally, Carolyn made her decision. 

“Alright, I'll stay with you today."

After that she hung up and flipped her phone face down, completely blocking my calls. 

Billie broke into a wide smile becoming the final straw that broke my heart.

I almost lost my balance, but managed to squeeze out a shred of rationality from my grief to tell my childhood friend. “Surveillance."

“Check the surveillance," I said, my voice trembling as I pointed upward at the surveillance camera, “Save it for me. I need evidence."

As I watched the surveillance footage and Carolyn's face grow pale, I told my childhood friend, “Since Carolyn has made her choice, I won't let her get away with it."

As I got into my childhood friend's car, my childhood friend pulled up all the documents.

“I think you should see this too.”

The document was about Billie's Little Red Book. It was like a vast web, weaving the love between him and Carolyn—a love that never included me.

I watched the video they recorded last month while she was on a business trip, showing Billie sitting in my Porsche.

In the video, he smiled brightly as he said, “What should I do, everyone? My wife's car broke down, so I bought a new one—the latest model. I secretly prepared a surprise for her."

He recorded the navigation voice and then made a shushing gesture toward the camera. 

“Guess what, will she like this surprise? Will she also buy me some cookies then?"

I suppressed my disgust and kept scrolling down, seeing that on the day I had my follow-up appointment at the hospital, Billie was at the same hospital as me, holding a lab report, looking smug.

“The main package is here for another sperm quality check!"

“Everyone, please guess with me. Will it pass this time?" He chuckled, “If it passes, I can become a dad!"

“He really is a bastard!" My childhood friend angrily slammed the steering wheel, but I no longer felt the initial anger and pain of betrayal. 

I calmly told him.

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