Claimed by Three Billionaires

Chapter 1 – Selene’s POV

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“Please… Edmund, stop!”

My scream didn’t stop the blow.

His foot crashed into my stomach, sending me sprawling to the side. My hands instinctively tried to shield my body, but it was useless. I was already too weak.

“You think you can talk to me like that?!” he roared, his voice full of hate. “To me?!”

Another kick—this time to my back. I felt something crack and thought maybe it was a rib.

I tried to lift my head, and that’s when I saw him.

At the far end of the room, my baby was crying. Theo, my little boy, his eyes overflowing with tears, his tiny fists pounding the mattress as if he knew what was being done to me.

“Don’t look at the baby, damn it!” Edmund snarled, dragging me by the ankle.

“Please… not in front of him…” My voice broke, barely a thread.

“This is what happens when you talk about divorce. When you try to take what’s mine. And that damn baby is mine too! MINE!”

His fists were like hammers. And my son… my son kept crying. So loud. So broken.

“Theo… my love… Mommy’s here… everything’s okay…”

But I couldn’t reach him.

The blood blurred my vision, and darkness pulled me under until I woke.

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“Ladies and gentlemen, we are now preparing to land at John F. Kennedy International Airport. Please fasten your seatbelts…”

My body trembled. I opened my eyes sharply, breath ragged. It took me a moment to realize—I was still on the plane. And Theo, my baby…

He was safe. It had only been a nightmare.

But the trembling wouldn’t stop, and the images lingered. I clenched my teeth, refusing to cry.

The bank was my first stop after leaving the airport. When I handed my ID to the clerk, my throat went dry.

“One moment…” she said mechanically as she typed. “I’m sorry, but all your accounts have been frozen. There are no available funds or recent transactions.”

“Frozen? That can’t be…”

The woman looked at me with a mix of discomfort and professional sympathy.

“Someone with legal authority over you issued the order. I’m not allowed to give you more details.”

Of course. Eleanor Ravenshire—my mother-in-law. No further explanation needed.

I walked out with numb legs and a crushed heart. My next hope was my cousin Nathan. The only family I had left alive.

But when I reached the apartment tower where I remembered he lived, a guard stopped me.

“Who are you looking for?”

“Nathan Ashford. I’m his cousin. I just need to talk to him. It’s urgent.”

The man hesitated, but finally let me go up. I was knocking when another guard appeared.

“Are you looking for Mr. Ashford?”

“Yes, I’m his cousin, Selene Ashford.”

“Mr. Ashford no longer lives here. He sold this apartment to a business partner. I’m sorry, but you can’t stay.”

I had no words. Once again, I was back on the street, with my baby—and nothing else.

I walked for hours. Searched for familiar faces, familiar corners. Nothing. The sun disappeared. Theo shivered, and I could barely feel my fingers.

When I sat on a bench by the river, I thought I’d never get up again.

Then a voice pulled me from my misery.

“Hey, are you okay?”

A woman with messy hair, worn-out clothes, and surprisingly vivid eyes looked at me closely.

“Do you have somewhere to sleep?”

I shook my head.

“I know a women’s shelter downtown. It’s not pretty, but it’s better than freezing out here. If you want, we can go together.”

I hesitated.

“I’m Roxy,” she added. “And you look like you could use a miracle.”

She was right. So I accepted.

The shelter was in a forgotten part of the city. Roxy spoke for me, told them I had a baby and needed a place for the night. They let me in without question.

That night was the first I’d slept without fear in months.

The next morning, Roxy was gone.

But on the plastic table by the bed, she had left a note:

“Don’t be scared, beautiful. I went out on rounds with the guys, I’ll be back soon. You stay, with your baby they might let you stay longer. Use this for a coffee. Take good care of him. —Roxy.”

There were five dollars tucked underneath—the same five she had told me the night before were all she had left.

That gesture made me cry—not out of weakness, but because it was cruel to realize I had received more from a stranger than from my so-called friends.

Days passed.

I offered to help at the shelter in exchange for a bed. I washed, cleaned, folded. Some of the women began asking me about my accent, my story.

“I studied Art History at Oxford,” I said.

“And how did you end up here?”

I didn’t answer.

“It doesn’t matter,” a volunteer said. “No one judges here.”

They told me about their lives, their scars. We had all escaped something.

And for the first time… I didn’t feel alone.

One night, while sorting donated clothes, a volunteer approached me.

“Selene, someone is asking for you at the entrance.”

“Who?”

“They didn’t say. But… it’s a man. Very distinguished.”

“How does he look?” I asked softly.

“Long, expensive coat. He hardly speaks, but he commands presence.”

My heart pounded against my ribs.

It couldn’t be Edmund.

I forced myself to believe that again and again. I had thrown him into the sea, and I had seen him sink beneath the water. He was dead.

Maybe it was Nathaniel, I thought. Perhaps the building guards had contacted him, and once he learned what had happened, he searched until he found me.

I pressed Theo tightly against my chest, making sure his tiny body stayed warm against mine, and took a step. Then another. With every meter, anxiety squeezed my chest tighter.

Outside, beyond the door, the air was cold. But what truly froze me was seeing him.

Julian Lockhart.

The world seemed to stop.

Nathaniel’s best friend.

The same boy who mocked my accent. Who laughed every time I tried to seem strong. And now he stood there—in a shelter, as if from another world.

I kept walking until I was in front of him. It didn’t matter how many painful memories resurfaced. It didn’t matter if he had once broken my heart with cruel jokes. Now I had something far more important than pride: my son.

“Did my cousin send you?”