My Ex-Husband's Billion-Dollar Regret

The last thing I remember is my fiancé, Cayden, toasting to our future. The first thing I hear when I wake up in a hospital is him telling the city's most feared Don to pretend to be my fiancé instead.

A doctor says I have severe neurological damage. Amnesia.

Then, my best friend, Vivian-the girl I considered a sister-walks in. Her hand is linked through Cayden's arm, her head resting on his shoulder. They look like a perfect, loving couple.

I hear Cayden's frantic voice in the hallway, not even bothering to whisper. "Please, Liam," he begs the Don, Liam Hewitt. "Just do me this one favor. I need a break from all her marriage talk."

Then his voice turns slick with temptation. "As her 'fiancé,' you can finally get her to sign the demolition agreement for the Owen manor. She'll do anything you ask."

My heart turns to a pile of cold, dead ash. The man I loved and the woman I trusted didn't just betray me. They tried to erase me.

When they all step back into my room, I steady myself. I look past Cayden, past Vivian, and fix my eyes on the most dangerous man in the city.

A faint smile touches my lips. "Only you feel familiar," I say to Liam Hewitt, my voice a soft, broken thing.

"Fiancé," I say, the word tasting like poison and opportunity. "I'm sorry, I seem to have forgotten your name. Take me home."

Chapter 1

Julia Owen POV:

The last thing I remember is my fiancé, Cayden, toasting to our future. The first thing I hear when I wake up is him telling the city's most feared Don to pretend to be my fiancé instead.

My eyelids feel like they're glued shut. A low, clinical hum fills the space around me, and the air smells sterile, sharp.

"...possibility of severe neurological damage," a calm, detached voice says. A doctor.

I force my eyes open. The light is a dull, milky white. A doctor stands at the foot of my bed, his face grim. He's talking to Cayden.

My Cayden.

A wave of relief washes over me, so strong it almost makes me dizzy. He's here.

I try to sit up, but my head feels like it's full of wet sand. A soft groan escapes my lips.

Cayden's head snaps toward me. His eyes, usually so full of easy charm, are wide with something I can't place. Not concern. Something else.

"Julia," he breathes.

I give him a weak, playful smile. The party. My birthday. The champagne tasted funny. "Where am I?" I ask, my voice raspy. I try to inject a little humor into it, to tease him. "And who am I?"

His face freezes. He doesn't laugh. He doesn't rush to my side and call me his dearest Julia.

He just stares, his eyes darting from my face to the doctor and back again. The hesitation lasts only a second, but it feels like an eternity.

Then he shoves his chair back, the sound scraping against the floor, and bolts from the room.

I hear his frantic voice in the hallway, muffled but urgent. "Can alcohol poisoning cause amnesia? Is it possible?"

The doctor gives a vague, noncommittal answer.

Cayden's voice drops, but the words are sharp, clear. "Get Liam Hewitt to the hospital. Now."

Liam Hewitt. The Don of the Hewitt Outfit. The youngest in the family's history, a man whose reputation was built on ruthless efficiency and quiet brutality. His name hangs in the air like the smell of gunpowder. He's the man who has been trying to tear down my family's last remaining legacy, the Owen manor, for the last three years. My enemy.

When Cayden comes back, he avoids my eyes. He tells me my name is Julia. He tells me Liam Hewitt is my fiancé. He tells me we're getting married.

For a second, I think he's playing along with my joke. A cruel, strange joke, but a joke nonetheless.

Then Vivian Green, my best friend, the girl I considered a sister, walks in. She isn't looking at me. Her hand is linked through Cayden's arm, her head resting on his shoulder. They look like a painting of a perfect, loving couple.

The air leaves my lungs. The joke is over.

Cayden must see the confusion on my face, because he runs a hand through his hair and practically flees the room again. This time, he finds Liam Hewitt in the hallway. He doesn't even bother to lower his voice.

"She thinks you're her fiancé," Cayden says, and I can hear the poorly concealed excitement in his voice. It's a bright, sharp note of pure joy. "The doctor said it's probably temporary. Just play along."

Liam's voice is a low rumble, laced with an impatience that feels like a physical threat. "And why should I involve myself in this farce?"

"Please, Liam," Cayden begs, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Just do me this one favor. She's been driving me crazy with all this marriage talk. I need a break."

Liam scoffs, a sound of pure disdain. I hear his footsteps turning to leave.

"Wait!" Cayden grabs him. "I have someone else to keep happy. I'll make it worth your while."

I clutch the thin hospital bedsheets, my knuckles white. The sterile room suddenly feels like a coffin.

"Think about it," Cayden presses, his voice slick with temptation. "As her 'fiancé,' you can finally get her to sign the demolition agreement for the Owen manor. She'll do anything for you."

My heart, which had been a lone ship tossed in a storm, turns to a pile of cold, dead ash. The man I loved, the woman I trusted. They didn't just betray me. They tried to erase me.

The door opens. Cayden, Liam, and Vivian step inside.

Cayden sees my open eyes and freezes. He gives Liam a hard shove forward.

"Your name is Julia," he repeats, his voice loud and brittle. "He is your fiancé. You're getting married soon." He gestures between himself and Liam. "I'm his cousin. We'll be family soon."

Vivian steps forward, her arm linked with his, a casual, possessive gesture. A flicker of guilt crosses Cayden's face before he schools his features into a mask of indifference.

The last shred of hope in my chest dies. There is only a pain that comes with every breath, sharp and constant.

I steady myself. I lift my head. I look past Cayden, past Vivian, and fix my eyes on the most dangerous man in the city.

A faint smile touches my lips. "Only you feel familiar," I say to Liam Hewitt, my voice a soft, broken thing.

His brow furrows. His sharp, dark eyes scrutinize me, as if trying to peel back the layers of this lie and find the truth.

I shift, pushing myself to sit upright, the movement sending a jolt of pain through my body.

My gaze never leaves his.

"Fiancé," I say, the word tasting like poison and opportunity. "I'm sorry, I've forgotten your name. Take me home."

---

Julia Owen POV:

Ten minutes later, I'm in the passenger seat of Liam Hewitt's silver Bentley.

In the rearview mirror, Cayden and Vivian are pressed together in the back, whispering. They look like conjoined twins, fused by their shared deceit. Cayden keeps glancing at me, his expression a mixture of suspicion and relief. Vivian just smirks, a look of pure, unadulterated triumph on her face.

A scent of cedarwood and something cold, like winter air, washes over me as Liam leans across the console. I flinch, my body tensing, my breath catching in my throat.

His expression is unreadable. He says nothing, his movements economical and precise as he clicks my seatbelt into place. He settles back into his seat, his large hands resting on the steering wheel.

The engine purrs to life.

"Is this normal?" he asks, his voice low and laced with a strange hint of amusement. His eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror. "Buckling up my fiancée? Have I done this before?"

I force down the knot of panic in my chest and turn to look out the window. "I don't remember."

His hand reaches out, his fingers brushing the back of mine. It's a light, fleeting touch, but it sends a jolt through me. "Don't worry," he says, his voice a soft promise. "You'll remember."

The words, meant to be comforting, seem to be a direct provocation to the man in the back seat.

Cayden's face darkens. He yanks his arm away from Vivian. "Liam," he warns, his voice tight. "The Hewitt family values propriety. Until the wedding is official, you don't touch Julia."

Liam lets out a soft, disdainful scoff. He doesn't even turn his head, but I feel the weight of his mockery. "This is between my fiancée and me," he says, emphasizing the word. "You're overstepping, cousin."

Vivian's triumphant expression falters. She leans forward, her voice dripping with fake concern. "Julia, do you really not remember anything?"

I meet her gaze in the mirror and give a small, helpless shake of my head.

The tension in her shoulders visibly relaxes. She becomes chatty, eagerly filling the silence with a carefully curated version of our shared history. She talks about our friendship, from the private academy where we met to the years she "took care of me" after my family fell from grace.

Every word is technically true, but now they feel like tiny, sharp daggers sliding into my heart.

"My parents always treated you better than they treated me," she says, her arm once again linked with Cayden's. There's a smile in her voice, but her eyes are hard. She glances quickly at Liam, then back at me. "I'm so glad you've finally found your happiness. I truly wish you all the best."

The words sound so genuine they make my eyes burn. I turn away, focusing on the blur of city lights outside the window.

A few minutes later, Cayden sits up straight. "Wait, this is the wrong way. Where are we going?" he stammers, pointing out the window. "Vivian's place is in the other direction."

Liam's eyes are fixed on the road, but I feel his gaze on me. One hand rests casually on the wheel.

"I'm taking my fiancée back to our home," he states, his voice calm and final.

I look at him then, truly look at him. The Don. In the blinding pain of betrayal, I'd almost forgotten. The man sitting beside me, my supposed protector, was far more dangerous than the two vipers in the back.

He was, perhaps, the one person in the world who would most want me to have amnesia.

---

Julia Owen POV:

Three years ago, the Hewitt Outfit's massive real estate project on the south bank of Riverhaven came to a grinding halt.

Over two thousand residents had been relocated, their homes demolished to make way for a gleaming new development. But one property, a single, ivy-covered manor, stood defiantly in a key location, holding up the entire enterprise.

That manor was mine.

It was the only thing my parents had left me. After their plane crashed into the ocean, their empire was carved up by treacherous allies and circling vultures. I was a child, passed between relatives who saw me as a meal ticket. By the time I turned eighteen and regained control of the estate, it was a crumbling ruin, home only to stray cats and the ghosts of a life I'd lost.

I spent months cleaning it, but it was uninhabitable. I left it for the strays, a quiet sanctuary I would visit to feel close to my parents.

Then the Hewitt Outfit came. Bulldozers were already parked outside when their men showed up with a contract, their voices cold as they talked about price.

My refusal to sell made Liam Hewitt and me mortal enemies.

His men came in waves. First polite, then threatening. They trespassed, vandalized, and tried to intimidate me.

I was with Cayden by then. He always seemed so helpless, so frustrated on my behalf. He claimed his hands were tied. The Family wouldn't accept our relationship. He wasn't a named partner in the Hewitt Corporation. Liam controlled everything. I knew Cayden resented his uncle, Gordon Hewitt, for sidelining him, so I believed him when he said he couldn't plead my case.

So I fought my own battles. I smashed the window of Liam's car. I threw paint on his men. I became a thorn in the side of the most powerful man in the city.

In the last six months, the attacks lessened. Cayden claimed his constant pleas had finally worked, that Liam had agreed to pause the project. He promised that once we were married, his family would have to respect our union and leave my property alone.

He said we had to wait a year. To build his career, he claimed. To prove himself.

Now I knew the truth. The delay wasn't about his career. It was about Vivian. He didn't want to let her go.

My chest aches. I remember how Vivian, after we graduated, had so eagerly invited me to move in with her. Her parents' two-bedroom apartment. I saw it as a home. I saw her as my only family.

Liam's cool voice cuts through the fog of my memories. "We're here."

The Bentley glides to a stop in front of a sprawling, modern villa. He gets out, walks around, and opens my door. He glances at the two in the back, his expression dismissive. "Julia isn't feeling well. You can get out and call a cab."

Cayden gives Liam a complicated, angry look before pulling a protesting Vivian from the car.

Liam turns back to me. As he reaches across to unbuckle my seatbelt, he doesn't hesitate. In one smooth motion, he sweeps me up into his arms.

A small gasp escapes my lips. The sudden weightlessness makes me instinctively wrap my arms around his neck.

"What are you doing?" Cayden spins around, his voice a raw shout. His shock and anger are even greater than mine. "Put her down!"

Liam merely adjusts his grip, his hand smoothing down the fabric of my dress. A slow, calm smile spreads across his face. "I'm just holding my girl."

He strides confidently up the stone steps toward the front door, carrying me as if I weigh nothing.

A sliver of unease, sharp and cold, pierces through the numbness in my heart.

He leans his head down, his lips brushing my ear as he speaks, his voice a low, private whisper just for me.

"Having fun playing amnesiac?"

---