The Billionaire’s Discarded Bride

: Sent Out Of The House

Bella pov

The road stretched ahead, dark and endless. I had no idea where I was going. The Black estate was in the richest part of Silverton, miles from anything resembling public transportation. It was nearly midnight. It was raining. I was pregnant and homeless and completely, utterly alone.

I reached a bus stop and collapsed onto the bench, my suitcase falling beside me with a wet thud. The rain pounded down, soaking me to the bone, but I couldn't make myself move. Couldn't make myself care about anything except the tiny life growing inside me.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, my hand pressed to my stomach. "I'm so sorry. I should've protected you better. Should've seen this coming. Should've."

Should've what? Never agreed to marry a man who saw me as a burden? Never hoped for love from people who'd never given it? Never believed I could be anything more than second-best?

A memory surfaced, sharp and painful. I was seven years old, standing in our living room while my parents cooed over Jade's school play performance. I'd won a writing contest that day, and had been so excited to tell them, but when I'd tried to speak, my father had held up one hand.

"Not now, Bella. Can't you see we're celebrating your sister?"

I'd learned to be quiet after that. To make myself small. To never ask for anything, never expect anything, never hope for anything.

And still, somehow, I'd ended up here. Broken and alone on a street corner, with nothing but forty-seven dollars in my wallet and a baby no one wanted.

The rain fell harder. I tilted my face up to it, let it wash away the tears, the makeup, the last traces of the girl who'd worn a wedding dress and believed in fairy tales. That girl was gone.

Someone new was being born in her place. Someone harder. Someone who would never let anyone hurt her again.

I pulled out my phone with shaking hands and searched for bus routes out of Silverton. The last bus to anywhere ran at 12:30 AM. I had twenty minutes to decide where to go, how to survive, how to build a life from nothing.

My eyes landed on a destination I'd never heard of before. Crestwood. A Small city, three hours away, cheap rent according to the message boards I found. Far enough from Silverton that no one would find me, far enough to disappear.

I bought a one-way ticket with my credit card, knowing Caleb could track the purchase, knowing he wouldn't care enough to follow. The transaction went through. Forty-seven dollars left to my name until the card hit its limit.

A bus pulled up, its brakes squealing in the rain. The door hissed open, and the driver looked at me with something like pity. "You getting on, miss?"

I grabbed my suitcase and stood, my legs shaking so badly I nearly fell. The bus was nearly empty—just me and an old woman sleeping in the back, and a teenager with headphones staring at his phone.

I found a seat near the middle and pressed my face against the cold window as the bus pulled away. Through the rain-streaked glass, I could see Silverton's skyline receding, all those glittering towers full of people who'd never know my name, never care that I'd existed.

Black Tower rose above them all, Caleb's kingdom, his empire. The building where he'd built his fortune, where he spent more time than he'd ever spent with me.

"I'll come back," I whispered against the glass, my breath fogging it. My hand moved to my stomach, protective and fierce. "One day, when I'm stronger. When I've built something that matters. When I can look you in the eye and show you exactly what you threw away."

The words felt like a vow, like a promise written in blood and rain and tears.

"I'll come back, and when I do, you'll all pay. Every single one of you."

The bus turned a corner, and Silverton disappeared behind buildings and trees and distance. I closed my eyes and let the exhaustion take me, let my body sag against the seat while my mind spun with impossible plans.

I had nothing. No money, no home, no family. Just forty-seven dollars, a suitcase full of cheap clothes, and a baby growing inside me that the world had already decided wasn't wanted. But I had something else too. I had rage. Pure, crystalline, unbreakable rage.

And rage, I was learning, could be just as powerful as love. Maybe more so.

The old woman in the back woke up and shuffled toward the front, getting off at some stop I didn't recognize. The teenager stayed glued to his phone. The driver kept his eyes on the road.No one looked at me, no one saw me. I was invisible again, just like I'd always been.

But this time, I chose it. This time, being invisible meant being safe. It meant having time to plan, to heal, to grow strong enough to face them all again.

My phone buzzed. Another text from the unknown number.