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She Left Without Hate, But He Lived With Regret Novel Cover

She Left Without Hate, But He Lived With Regret

9.8 / 10.0
For ten years, Vivienne endured billionaire Rafael’s cruel betrayals and torment. Bound by her mother's ashes and a tragic fire she couldn't prove her family didn't cause, she lived in a prison of shame. But when the dark mystery of that fatal night is finally unraveled, the truth sets her free. Leaving her toxic past behind to continue her mother’s legacy, Vivienne walks away forever. Now, the ruthless man who vowed to destroy her is the one begging her to stay.

She Left Without Hate, But He Lived With Regret Chapter 1

"Comrade Vivienne Devereux, the organization has assigned you to a classified research mission. Your identity will be erased, and you’ll live under a new name. Are you sure you don’t need more time to reconsider?"

Vivienne lowered her gaze, slipping a hand into her pocket. Her fingers tightened around her phone as it buzzed relentlessly.

She didn’t need to check to know who it was.

Taking a deep breath, she looked up and nodded.

"No need to reconsider."

"I’ve dedicated years to this. This is what I’ve worked for and been waiting for. I’m willing to serve my country; nothing else matters."

"But there are rumors… about your engagement to Rafael—"

Vivienne cut them off with a calm shake of her head. "Baseless gossip. It never happened."

"If that’s your final decision, then prepare yourself. As a secret researcher, your identity and household records will be erased. From this moment on, Vivienne will no longer exist in this world."

As she walked home, her superior’s words echoed in her mind.

She was finally about to gain her freedom.

She told herself she should be happy. She should feel relief.

Yet, as her fingers hovered over the lock, the sharp, breathless sounds from inside made her pause.

Vivienne unlocked her phone, scrolling through dozens of unread messages.

The surveillance footage flickered to life, her fiancé, Rafael, tangled in Freya Ludwig’s embrace, their bodies pressed together in shameless indulgence.

On Rafael’s left middle finger glinted the ring she had given him when she turned eighteen, bought with her first hard-earned paycheck.

She had always known about Freya.

But this was the first time he had brought her into their home, to their bed.

"Brother, this ring is in the way. Can I take it off?"

Freya’s voice dripped with saccharine sweetness, her pout feigned innocence.

Before Rafael could answer, she reached up, fingers grazing the band.

A slow, disdainful smirk curled at his lips.

"Freya, your hands were made for playing the piano. You shouldn’t have to touch trash like this."

With a flick of his fingers, he ripped off the ring himself and tossed it aside as if even its presence disgusted him.

"Brother, you’re so good to me," Freya cooed, climbing onto his lap, her arms looping around his neck.

"Come on, let’s continue."

Rafael pushed her beneath him, their bodies melting into one, the sight searing into Vivienne’s vision.

There were countless videos. But in the end, she didn’t have the courage to watch them all.

The last message was a voice recording.

"Sister Vivienne, I’m at home with Brother. Don’t come back just yet, okay? If you interrupt us, Brother will get mad."

Rafael’s impatient voice cut through in the background.

"Why are you even bothering with her? Come here."

The moans inside the house grew louder, shameless, and unrestrained.

But this time, Vivienne felt nothing.

She didn’t know how long she stood there, staring at the locked door, her fingers ice-cold against the fingerprint scanner.

Then, the villa door creaked open.

Freya stepped out, draped in nothing but a slip dress, her skin stained with fresh, crimson love marks.

She met Vivienne’s gaze, a slow smirk curling at her lips.

"Oh, it’s you, Sister. Didn’t I tell you not to come back?" She tilted her head, feigning concern before her voice dipped into mockery.

"What are you doing here?" Her eyes gleamed with cruel amusement. "Setting yourself up for pain?"

From inside, Rafael’s indifferent voice rang out.

"Since she’s here, have her go buy some. You must be tired. Go lie down and rest."

Freya hummed in agreement, then turned to Vivienne with a saccharine smile.

"Sister, we ran out of condoms. Could you buy us two more boxes?"

Vivienne’s mind buzzed, her ears ringing.

The disheveled sofa, the tangled sheets, the unmistakable scent of betrayal, each detail cut into her like a blade.

Slowly, she turned, locking eyes with Rafael.

He sat there lazily, his shirt askew, his expression unreadable.

"If you hate me so much, why did you marry me?"

Rafael’s lips curled into a smirk, cold and merciless.

"I married you to torment you, obviously. What, did you think it was out of love?"

He leaned forward, voice laced with mockery.

"You’re the pathetic one here. Otherwise, why did you agree to marry me?"

He stood, closing the space between them in a single stride.

The warmth she once knew in his gaze had long turned to ice, a cruel stranger replacing the boy she had once loved.

Back in their youth, their love had burned recklessly, lighting up the entire school.

Never had she imagined they would go from breathless confessions to venomous enemies.

His fingers clamped around her chin, yanking her back to the present.

A sharp sting shot through her jaw, but the pain was nothing compared to the words that followed.

"Did you forget?"

"Your mother’s ashes are still with me."

"If you dare go back on your word, I’ll scatter them immediately."

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She Left Without Hate, But He Lived With Regret of Contents

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