icon 0
icon TOP UP
rightIcon
icon Reading History
rightIcon
icon Sign out
rightIcon
icon Get the APP
rightIcon

The Billionaire's Cruelty, My Secret Daughter

Chapter 2 No.2

Word Count: 864    |    Released on: 05/12/2025

a blur of grey concre

d known for two years. He had driven her to charity galas, to the ballet, to the Hamptons.

lent. The smell of the leather seats, usually comforting

Not to anyone who reported back to Julian. If she vomited now, Charles would tell Julian

cent moons of pain distracted her from the roilin

voice tight. "Could you cra

wo, Ms. Sterling," Charles said robo

Vanderbilt. The demotio

her breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth. She counted the seco

Nausea. Swish.

gain, praying she was wrong. T

had checked it in the bathr

ays

ief. But she couldn't check her phone now. Charles might

ly, the scenery changed. Gone were th

nsington, P

over in the "fentanyl fold," defying gravity in their drug-indu

house that looked like it had been punched in the fa

runk, and set her two su

s said. He didn't offer to carry them up the steps. "Goo

the car. The

ashing dirty puddle wate

he let out the breath she had been holding. She doubled over, dry heaving o

wiped her mouth with the bac

clattering on the broken sidewalk. Under the flickering fluorescent lights, sh

t from the shelf. The clerk, a man behind bullet

rk across the street. It was filthy

t was all it took

toilet lid, staring

ink l

iti

at the test. A ba

hroat. He had kicked her out for killi

Julian's private number. Her thumb ho

g once

ne. He was pouring another drink. Elena was in the ho

th ached. She was calling to be

ed the r

cemail. Seraphina's heart hammere

Ring.

e trying to reach

block

e opened her text messages. Her

listen. It's not about Ele

ailure. User h

mark. The digital wall was highe

lling her knees to her chest, shiel

she whispered to the dar

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open
The Billionaire's Cruelty, My Secret Daughter
The Billionaire's Cruelty, My Secret Daughter
“The thunder cracked over the Hamptons, but it was nothing compared to Elena Sharp's scream. She lay twisted on the marble foyer, accusing me of trying to kill her baby. My husband, Julian, walked in, saw the scene, and his eyes froze me out of his life forever. He didn't listen, shoving a separation agreement across the desk, accusing me of murder. Stripped of my name and home, I was thrown out, left with nothing but my clothes and a terrifying secret growing inside me. My accounts frozen, I ended up in a crumbling Philadelphia row house, forced to pawn heirlooms. During a fire, my water broke, and I delivered our premature daughter, June, whose lungs were damaged. I stole formula to feed her, facing massive medical bills. Accused of destroying an heir, I was exiled while carrying his true legacy, fighting for every breath. The injustice burned, but June's life was my only fight. Three years later, June needed life-saving surgery. Julian's dying grandmother called me back with the funds, forcing a cruel charade with the man who hated me, a man still oblivious to his daughter.”