Reclaimed By The Billionaire

3

(Yasmine’s POV)

I ran.

I didn’t stop to think, didn’t stop to breathe. My heels clattered against the pavement as I pushed forward, weaving through the streets, my vision blurring with unshed tears.

The night air was cold, but not nearly as cold as the realization sinking into my bones.

Leo had proposed to Nana.

In front of everyone.

And I had stood there like a fool, watching my world fall apart while people laughed, whispered, and filmed my humiliation.

I reached my apartment building and yanked the door open, my hands shaking so badly I could barely turn the key. When I finally shoved it into the lock and stumbled inside, I pressed my back against the door and sank to the floor.

My heart pounded in my ears. My breath came in sharp, broken gasps.

I had to leave.

Now.

If I stayed, Nana and Leo would twist the story even more, painting me as the pathetic, desperate ex who tried to steal a billionaire.

My hands clenched into fists.

I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

I pushed myself up, ignoring the way my knees wobbled beneath me. Every part of my body ached—my feet throbbed from running, my head pounded from the humiliation, and a dull, twisting pain lingered in my lower stomach.

I couldn’t focus on that now.

I grabbed my suitcase from the closet and started stuffing my clothes inside, barely thinking about what I was taking. I just needed to get out. Away from here. Away from them.

But just as I zipped up my bag, the knock came.

Soft. Deceptively gentle.

Then—the door swung open.

Nana.

She stood in the doorway like she owned the place, her silk dress pristine compared to my tear-streaked, disheveled state. She had changed since the event, but her makeup was still flawless, her blonde hair sleek and perfect. The picture of someone who had just won.

Her lips curled into a smirk. "Packing already?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat and turned away, pretending to ignore her as I grabbed my coat. "Leave, Nana."

She stepped inside, closing the door behind her.

I stiffened.

"I figured you’d run," she said, circling the room like a predator, her heels clicking against the floor. "You always were a coward."

My hands trembled as I clenched the fabric of my coat. "What do you want?"

She hummed thoughtfully. "Closure, I suppose. You should at least hear the truth before you disappear."

I didn’t want the truth. I didn’t want to hear another word from her, but I stood frozen, my body betraying me as she stepped closer.

"You never had a chance, Yasmine," she said softly. "You were never meant to be by Leo’s side."

I forced out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. "You expect me to believe that? He—he loved me. He—"

Nana tsked, her expression twisting into something almost pitying. "Oh, sweet girl," she whispered. "He never loved you."

The words sliced through me like a dagger.

I sucked in a sharp breath, willing myself not to break in front of her.

"He was forced into this engagement," she continued, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "It was always the plan, Yasmine. His father, my father… they arranged this a long time ago. Leo only ever kept you around because—well, let’s be honest, you were a convenient distraction. A way to rebel."

My stomach churned.

Lies. It had to be lies.

But deep down, something in me cracked.

Because Leo had stood there. Silent.

Not once had he stopped this. Not once had he denied it.

I turned away, blinking back tears, but Nana wasn’t done.

"Did you really think he’d choose you over me?" she scoffed. "Me, the daughter of the man who could make or break his company? While you—" she let out a soft laugh—"you were nothing but a stray. A girl I took in out of pity."

Pity.

The word sent a violent wave of nausea through me.

My throat tightened, my pulse roaring in my ears.

"You were like a pet," she continued, stepping closer. "A lost little thing that I felt sorry for. And now? Well… you’ve outlived your usefulness."

Something inside me snapped.

I turned sharply, grabbing her arm, my nails digging into her perfect skin. "Was it all a game to you?" My voice shook with rage. "Was I just something for you to control?"

Nana’s eyes flashed with something cruel.

Then—she shoved me.

Hard.

I stumbled back, my heel catching on the edge of the suitcase.

Pain shot through me as I hit the floor, my hip slamming against the hardwood, my hands barely breaking my fall. A sharp, twisting pain flared in my lower stomach, stealing the breath from my lungs.

I gasped, my arms shaking as I tried to push myself up.

Nana simply smoothed out her dress. "Goodbye, Yasmine."

Then she was gone, the door clicking shut behind her.

I lay there, my body trembling, my breath coming in shallow pants.

The ache in my stomach lingered, sending a sickening wave of dread through me.

I had to leave.

I forced myself up, biting my lip to keep from crying out as pain shot through my leg. My ankle throbbed from the fall, my hip ached, but I couldn’t stop now.

I grabbed my suitcase, limping toward the door.

One step. Then another.

I didn’t look back.

The streets blurred past me as I walked—no, limped—to the bus station.

Every movement sent another sharp ache through my body, but I pushed forward, my grip tight on my suitcase handle.

No taxis. I couldn’t risk it. I had no money to waste.

When I finally reached the station, the fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, flickering slightly. A small group of people huddled near the benches, waiting.

I bought a ticket with shaking fingers, the attendant barely sparing me a glance.

New York.

That was far enough.

I clutched my coat tighter around me, sitting down in the farthest corner of the station.

My body screamed in protest, but I ignored it. I ignored the dull, persistent pain in my stomach, the cold, the exhaustion pressing down on me like a heavy weight.

I had nothing left here.

No family. No home. No Leo.

A sharp pang shot through my chest, but I shoved it down.

I won’t cry. Not for him.

Not for any of them.

The bus pulled up, brakes hissing against the pavement.

I stood slowly, my body heavy, aching, but my steps were steady.

I would survive this.

I stepped onto the bus, handing over my ticket.

As I settled into my seat, the city lights flickered outside the window.

I stared at them, my hand pressing gently against my stomach.

We’ll be okay, baby.

I wasn’t sure if I was saying it for the baby growing inside me or for myself.

But as the bus pulled away, leaving everything behind, I made a promise.

I would never let anyone break me again.

Never.