The CEO's Billion-Dollar Divorce Regret

e to die on the side of a highway in the pouring rain. He had to r

hope was short-lived. The hospital was out of my blood type, and the only reserve had been set aside

urse beg him. "This woman, an

ce. "Isabella i

r risk. The ledger where I'd been keeping sc

new love with a man who cherishes me. I'm no longer the broken w

nd me. He got on his knees in the middle of

pte

phin

was the day I realized my marriage was a contract,

d a pair of winter boots I'd never worn in Boston, the black leather ledger was plain, severe, and utterly o

the family crest. He moved through the rows of his tailored suits with the same lethal grace h

hat could kill a man as easily as they could save

he st

le black box. His curiosity, a rare thing when directed at me, was pique

ger sat

He opened it to the first page. My handwriting, the el

nner's

noyance?-crossed his face. He read t

ng Sco

, each betrayal, sub

its zero,

oset. "A bored wife's game," he murmured, the words meant for h

his eyes scanning the entries.

y. The date that sealed the pact be

d our trip to Italy b

Isabella's name when h

meant for the Don of the Ricci family, to Is

n't a record of his betrayals. It was a testament to my obsession with Isabella Whitfield, th

an alliance was necessary. He remembered choosing me, Seraphina Rossi, the architect with a quiet demeanor and a

, shoving it back onto the shelf with careless indifference. He f

oset, my sketchbook open on my lap. A stupid, stubborn flicker of ho

at. He adjusted his watch. "Isabella's

like a candle, leaving only

iny stars painted on the ceiling and a crib carved with gentle waves. A strange, unreadabl

zed. It was his tr

ough the phone. "There's a fire. Isabella's gal

s place stood a man consumed by a singular terror. He grabbed his keys and coat, his mo

know why. Maybe I need

saw Dante at the police line, arguing with firefighters, his voice

his voice cracking with a panic I had never heard before. "I'm a surgeon. My entire future is in the

pped. It jus

been like this since they were kids," the soldier said. "Obs

bstacle. A plac

was truly mine. Watching him, a man willing to burn f

the line. He ra

r face buried in his chest. He whispered to her-reassurances, promises-his voi

ics, made sure she was br

her was done, did Dante Sa