Too Late: She Chose The Billionaire Heir

"She’s just like a sister to me, Eliana. You’re being dramatic." That was Jax’s excuse every time he chose Catalina over me for three years. When Catalina staged a fake drowning in three feet of water, he pushed me aside to save her, telling me my life wasn't his problem. But the breaking point came when she deliberately pushed me down a flight of stairs. My ankle shattered on the concrete. I was lying there in agony, unable to move. Yet, Jax didn't check on me. He stepped over my bleeding body to scoop Catalina up because she had a minor scratch on her elbow. He screamed at me for "hurting" her. While I lay in the hospital alone, waiting for surgery, he was spoon-feeding her soup in her dorm, posting photos captioned "My Hero." He thought I would always be his "Elie Bear," the doormat waiting at home to clean up his messes. He was convinced that no matter how much he hurt me, I would never actually leave. But he was wrong. I didn't scream. I didn't fight. I simply signed the withdrawal papers, blocked his number, and boarded a one-way flight to New York without saying goodbye. Three months later, when Jax finally realized his "sister" was a nightmare and came crawling back to beg for forgiveness, he found me. But I wasn't alone. I was holding the hand of a billionaire heir who looked at Jax with cold, deadly eyes. "Touch her again," my new fiancé whispered, "and I will destroy your entire family by morning."

Chapters

Chapter 3

The annual spring formal was supposed to be the highlight of the year. Instead, it felt like an autopsy of my relationship.

I stood by the punch bowl, gripping a plastic cup as I watched them on the dance floor. Jax and Catalina moved with a synchronization that made my stomach turn. It wasn't overtly sexual; it was something worse. It was intimate.

It was a language of shared history that I didn't speak. He knew exactly when she would spin; she knew exactly how he would catch her.

"They look like they were made for each other," someone whispered behind me.

"Totally. I heard they're practically soulmates," another voice agreed.

I took a sip of the overly sweet punch to keep from gagging.

Catalina broke away from Jax and floated toward me, her dress shimmering under the strobe lights. She didn't look malicious. She looked helpful. That was the cruelty of it.

"You look tired, El," she said, touching my arm. Her fingers were cold against my skin.

"I'm fine," I said, pulling away.

She leaned in closer, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know, I'm really glad you and Jax are still trying. I actually told him he should ask you out back in sophomore year. He was so unsure, but I said, 'Give her a chance, she needs someone.'"

The room tilted.

*She told him to ask me out.*

The ground beneath my feet felt like it dissolved. All those memories—Jax asking me to the movies, the shy confession, the first kiss—it wasn't passion. It was an assignment.

I was a project Catalina had assigned him because she wasn't ready for him yet.

"Excuse me," I mumbled.

I rushed to the bathroom, locking myself in a stall. I dry-heaved over the toilet, but nothing came up except the bitter taste of bile.

I left the dance early. I didn't tell Jax. He wouldn't notice anyway.

A few days later, I was in the student lounge working on an essay. A group of students from the drama club were drinking wine in the corner—technically illegal on campus, but no one cared. Catalina was holding court again.

She was tipsy, her cheeks flushed a deep rose.

"Jax is just... intense," she giggled. "You guys don't know the half of it. When we were twelve, I lost my charm bracelet in the lake. He spent four hours diving for it until his lips turned blue. He missed his own baseball championship game just to find a piece of cheap jewelry for me."

The group swooned.

"He's always been yours, hasn't he?" a girl asked.

"Basically," Catalina shrugged, swirling her wine. "I mean, he dates other people to pass the time, but when I call? He answers. Always."

I sat frozen behind a bookshelf.

*Dates other people to pass the time.*

Every detail she spilled matched a memory I had of Jax cancelling plans.

*Sorry, El, family emergency.* (He had been diving in a lake.)

*Sorry, El, got stuck at practice.* (He had been fixing her flat tire.)

The lies fit together like a perfect, horrifying puzzle. I wasn't his girlfriend. I was the commercial break in the Catalina show.

Jax walked into the lounge then. He looked around, spotting Catalina.

"Cat," he called out. It was automatic. A reflex.

Then he saw me sitting in the shadows.

His face went pale. He looked from Catalina, who was beaming at him like a prize she had won, to me.

"Eliana," he stammered. "I didn't know you were here."

He walked over, reaching for my water bottle on the table. "You look thirsty. Here."

I stared at his hand. The hand that had held mine. The hand that had held hers.

"No thanks," I said. My voice was steady, which surprised me. "I'm not thirsty."

Catalina watched us, a smirk playing on her lips. She raised her glass to me.

"Don't be rude, Eliana," she called out. "He's just being nice."

Panic flared in Jax’s eyes. "Cat, stop."

"What?" She laughed. "I'm just saying. You'd do anything for me, right Jax? Even fight your parents?"

Jax flinched. "That was a long time ago."

"But you did it," she insisted. "You told your dad you'd never take over the company if he didn't let me come to dinner."

I closed my laptop. The sound was like a gunshot in the quiet room.

I stood up.

"Eliana, wait," Jax said, stepping in front of me. "Did you eat? We can go grab a burger."

He was terrified. He could see it in my eyes. The adoration was gone. The patience was gone.

"I ate," I lied.

I looked at him, really looked at him. He was handsome. He was charming. And he was completely hollow.

"I have to go," I said.

"Eliana—"

I walked past him. I didn't look back at Catalina. I didn't need to. I knew exactly what her face looked like.

It looked like victory.

Continue to next part

Betrayed by her own kind, a young werewolf is discarded when her Alpha sells her to a rival pack like a mere commodity. Thrust into a hostile new environment, she must navigate the dangerous politics of her captors while grappling with the sting of abandonment. As she struggles to survive, she uncovers hidden strengths and faces a destiny far greater than her previous life allowed. It is a journey of resilience, power, and unexpected survival.

Action Fantasy Werewolf

9.1

His Unwanted Fiancée Was His True Savior

9.1

I was standing in five thousand dollars of hand-stitched lace when I received the medical report. My fiancé, Dante de Rossi, the future Don of Chicago, had gotten another woman pregnant. He didn't apologize. He didn't beg. He looked me in the eye and called it a "strategic necessity." "Isobel saved my life five years ago," he said coldly. "I owe her this child. You will raise it as your own. It is the price of the Peace Treaty." He forced me to cancel our engagement photos so he could take them with her. He took her on the vacation meant for our honeymoon. At dinner, he ordered me the seafood risotto, completely forgetting my deadly shellfish allergy, while fussing over Isobel’s water temperature. When I tried to leave, he cornered me. "You are a mob wife, Nina. Act like one. She is the hero who saved me." I wanted to laugh. Because five years ago, in that alley, Isobel wasn't even there. I was the one in the mask. I was the one who stitched his femoral artery and saved his life, risking my own medical license. He was destroying our twenty-year relationship to pay a debt to a liar. I didn't scream. I didn't fight. I simply picked up a red marker and walked to the calendar. On the day of our wedding, while Dante stood at the altar waiting for his obedient Queen, I was already boarding a one-way flight to the other side of the world. I left him nothing but four words scrawled across the date: "Let's break up, Dante."

Action Mafia Romance

8.4

My Peace Beyond His Regret

8.4

My boyfriend, Damien, chose a Vegas trip with his toxic best friend, Branden, over our relationship, ignoring my ultimatum that if he walked out, we were over. He walked. A week later, he was back, dangling a designer handbag as a peace offering. But while he was partying, I was in the ER with a severe, stress-induced anxiety attack. The final blow came when I saw Damien had 'liked' Branden' s social media post mocking my pain. He stood outside my apartment, laughing with Branden, calling me "dramatic" and "clingy," completely unaware I had already packed his entire life into boxes. "What... what is all this, Cecil?" he stammered, his face turning from shock to rage as he saw his belongings ready for the movers. "What have you done?" I looked him dead in the eye, my voice cold and steady. "We're over, Damien. So, are these boxes going to your place, or to Branden's?"

Action LGBT+Modern Romance

9.4

Pact Of Love Under Oath

9.4

Alicia had never imagined that her wedding day would unravel into a storm of secrets, betrayals, and overwhelming passion. Just before her wedding, a devastating truth came to light, drawing the name of Dante Moretti into her life-a man whose power and ruthlessness had made him the most feared figure in Italy. Shaped by his past and driven by control, Dante trusted nothing but his own will, until Alicia shattered his certainty with her quiet tenderness. Bound together by vengeance and guilt, they were forced to face enemies determined to destroy them and confront emotions neither of them could deny. Through tears, danger, and a love that endured amid chaos, Alicia and Dante discovered that true love was not a choice but something that simply took hold. But when life stripped away their peace, it was love-pure and unbreakable-that guided them back to their path. This was a story of redemption, family, second chances, and a love that defied fate.

Action Modern Romance

9.2

Reborn Queen: The Billionaire's Dangerous Asset

9.2

I died as the "Queen," an elite assassin who leveled criminal syndicates, only to wake up in a damp trailer smelling of rot and stale tobacco. My new body belonged to Arleen Brewer, a malnourished teenager with a failing heart and a life defined by systemic poverty. A flickering blue light in my mind identified itself as a System, offering a devil's bargain: survive this life, and I could resurrect my dead brother, Dusty. To earn his return, I had to endure my alcoholic stepfather’s rage and a body so weak it struggled to even stand. At my elite prep school, the rich kids treated me like a walking corpse, covering my desk in trash and mocking my heart condition. Even my fiancé, Shen Wenyu, publicly branded me as "unstable" and stood by while the school's golden boy tried to humiliate me. They expected me to wither away, but they didn't realize a wolf was now wearing the sheep's skin. I shattered the bully’s nose with a metal tray and tore up my engagement contract in front of a stunned auditorium, only to be met with immediate threats of lawsuits and expulsion. I didn't understand how the original Arleen survived this suffocating injustice without breaking, but as the Queen, I was ready to turn this school into a war zone. Then Hale Clemons, the most dangerous man in the city, cornered me outside the principal's office. He saw through my mask, realizing his very presence was the only thing keeping my failing heart from stopping. "I’m not buying your loyalty," he said, handing me a gold-embossed card. "I’m investing in a weapon." I took the deal, ready to use his power to bring my brother back and bury everyone who ever looked down on Arleen Brewer.

Action Billionaire Modern

7.6

Replaced By A Mistress: The Wife's Revenge

7.6

I went to the City Clerk's office to update my passport, desperate to feel alive again after losing my ability to draw. Instead, the clerk handed me a reality that killed me. "Mrs. Crosby," she whispered, her face drained of color. "You aren't married to Bennet. The divorce was finalized three years ago. On October 12th." The date hit me harder than a physical blow. October 12th was the day my right hand was crushed. The day Gianna Skinner, a woman obsessed with my husband, shattered twenty-seven bones in my drawing hand with a marble bust. Bennet, the most ruthless Don in New York, had promised me justice. He swore he locked Gianna in a dungeon to rot for hurting his "Angel." But the screen in front of me told a different story. He had married Gianna the very same day he divorced me. I drove to the Lake House where she was supposed to be suffering. I didn't find a prison; I found a modern glass palace. There they were, sitting on a swing set I had designed. Gianna wasn't rotting. She was laughing in his lap, wearing a silk robe. "She is so pathetic," Gianna purred, tracing his jaw. "Five years and she still thinks she is the Lady of the house." Bennet chuckled, the sound dark and terrifying. "She is broken, Gianna. A bird with no wings. She has no value to the Family anymore, except as a trophy on my shelf. She is my pet. You are my fire." My phone buzzed in my pocket. A text from Bennet. "Happy Anniversary, my Angel. Tonight, I give you the world." He wasn't giving me the world. He was building a cage out of lies. Through a bugged ring, I later heard his endgame: he planned to institutionalize me for "mental instability" so he could bring Gianna into the light. I didn't go home to cry. I went to my office and opened a secure browser on the dark web. *Subject: Protocol Erasure.* *Target: Harper Cline.* *Execution: Immediate.* Bennet thought he had broken his pet. He was about to realize he had just unleashed a lioness.

Action Modern Romance

Too Late: She Chose The Billionaire Heir

Chapter 3

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