Billionaire's Regret: I'm Their Father

The air in the master suite was still thick with the lingering warmth of passion, but the atmosphere shattered the second Everett stepped out of the bathroom, fully dressed and coldly composed. Wendy sat at the edge of the plush king-sized bed, smoothing down her silk robe over her trembling knees. Her heart was beating fast—not just from the intimacy they had shared moments ago, but from a secret so precious it made her breath catch. Two days ago, she found out that a life was growing inside her. For two years, she had loved Everett quietly, dutifully, and deeply in the shadows. She had cooked his favorite meals, learned his silent moods, and waited patiently for him to see her as more than just a convenient contract—a docile woman filling a vacant house. Carrying his pregnancy, she genuinely believed their marriage had finally found its foundation. "Everett," she began softly, turning toward him with a hopeful, shy smile. "I need to tell you something—" A crisp white envelope slid across the bed, slicing through her words making her stop. Everett stood towering over her, his hands tucked casually into the pockets of his tailored trousers. His dark eyes were as cold as polished obsidian, devoid of a single trace of the tenderness he had shown her on this very bed minutes ago. "Sign them," he said. His voice was unyielding. "I'm getting married for real this time." The air was sucked straight out of Wendy's lungs. Her chest tightened so painfully that she couldn't breathe. Getting married... for real? Her heart seemed to stop beating. The warmth from moments ago vanished, leaving nothing but a cold, hollow ache spreading through her chest. "What... what are you talking about?" Wendy whispered, her voice cracking as she forced herself to look down at the document on the table. The bold black title glared back at her like an insult. DIVORCE AGREEMENT. Her heart lurched. "Chloe is back," Everett said without a shred of hesitation or warmth. "Our two-year substitute arrangement is up. I kept my end of the deal, and now it's time to close the chapter. Chloe deserves the real wedding and the status I couldn't give her before." A cold, sickening dread poured over Wendy. Substitute arrangement. That was all she had been—a placeholder keeping his bed warm until the woman he actually loved returned. The tenderness he had just shared with her wasn't passion or affection; it was a parting gesture, a final transaction to clear his conscience before kicking her out. Her trembling hand drifted down, cupping her flat stomach. And what about our baby? What about the family I thought we were building? She opened her mouth to scream at him, to tell him about the child growing inside her, but the words died in her throat. Look at him. He doesn't love me and he never can. She thought. If she told him now, he would either view her baby as an inconvenient burden or try to rip the child away from her to avoid a scandal. She couldn't give him her baby. She couldn't let her child grow up in a home where its mother was despised. A strangled sound escaped her throat. Her hands had gone numb. Tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill, but she squeezed them shut, forcing the sorrow down into a hard, painful lump in her chest. Something in her chest cracked cleanly in half, and on the other side of the c***k was a woman who was no longer going to cry in front of him. She picked up the contract, her fingers shaking as she flipped to the back. A cashier's check fell onto her lap. "There's a five-million-dollar alimony check attached," Everett added, stepping closer, his shadow falling over her like a heavy cage. "It's more than enough for you to move out, live comfortably, and stay out of my sight. Take it and walk away cleanly." Wendy stared at the check. Five million. To an ordinary person, it was a fortune. But to Everett, it was pocket change—a cheap payoff to toss away two years of her life, her youth, her nights spent nursing him through late-night work stresses, and the soul she had poured into this cold house. If she was leaving, she had to protect her child alone. And raising a baby on her own meant she couldn't afford to be a proud, penniless martyr. A ragged, bitter laugh escaped her lips. The heartbreak in her chest slowly hardened into sharp, defensive anger. "Five million?" Wendy asked, lifting her head to meet his cold gaze. Her voice shook, but her eyes blazed. "Is five million what two years of my life are worth to you, Everett? Is that the price tag you put on my care, my devotion, and my silence?" Everett's jaw tightened. "Don't get ungrateful, Wendy. You came into this house with nothing. Five million is far more than you deserve." A muscle flickered in Everett's jaw. He had braced himself for tears, for begging—not for a woman who stood this straight, bargaining for a price instead of his love. She was really going to take the money. The thought stirred something ugly inside him. Had their entire marriage meant nothing to her? Had every smile, every quiet dinner, every night they shared been nothing more than a calculated investment? "Did you ever love me?" he asked suddenly, his voice low and accusatory, as though her composure itself were an unforgivable offense. "Or was every night just an investment, waiting for its payout?" The laugh that escaped her this time had no warmth left in it at all. “If I told you I loved you,” she said quietly, refusing to look away, “would it change anything? Would you tear up those papers? Would you send Chloe away?” A pin-drop silence settled over the room. Wendy waited. She searched his eyes for even the smallest c***k—for hesitation, regret, anything that said she mattered. There was nothing. His silence was his answer. In that cruel, endless moment, he chose Chloe over her without saying a single word. A broken smile touched Wendy’s lips. “That’s what I thought.” "And you seem to forget one major detail," Wendy said, pushing herself up from the bed to stand face-to-face with him, refusing to cower. "I was young and naive when I married you, but I wasn't completely foolish. I never signed a prenuptial agreement. If we take this to court, I'm entitled to a full division of marital assets. Five million wouldn't even cover a fraction of what a judge would award me." She took a slow, agonizing breath, burying her heartbreak beneath a fierce glare. "If you want me to quietly sign this paper today and walk out of your life forever without making a scene that embarrasses you and your precious Chloe... you're going to have to pay for my silence." Everett's eyes narrowed into dangerous, lethal slits. A violent edge flared in his dark gaze. He took a predatory step forward, towering over her, his teeth clenched so hard that his jawline turned pale. "You're threatening me?" he sneered, disgust dripping from every word. "I thought you were different, Wendy. In the end, you're just as greedy and opportunistic as the rest of them." The accusation stabbed straight through her bleeding heart, but Wendy didn't flinch. Let him think I'm greedy, she thought fiercely. Let him hate me. My child will need every penny to be safe and secure away from you. Without breaking eye contact, Everett whipped a pen from his breast pocket. He grabbed the check from her hand, laid it against the wall, and added an extra zero to the amount with aggressive, slashing strokes. "Fifty million," Everett snarled, ripping the check off the wall and shoving it violently against her chest. "Take it and get the hell out of my life!" The violent force of his shove sent a shockwave through her weak body. The humiliation, the suffocating grief of her shattered love, and the sudden hormonal surge of early pregnancy violently crashed over her all at once. The room began to spin. Her vision blurred into dark, jagged patches. "Everett..." she gasped, reaching out blindly to steady herself against the bedpost. Her knees gave out beneath her. Before she could process the darkness swallowing her whole, Wendy's strength vanished, and she collapsed onto the hardwood floor, motionless.