His Regret, Her Unstoppable Rise

From the back cover

My seven-year marriage to the heir Kobe Kidd began as a contract. I was the respectable placeholder wife he needed. In exchange, I got the stability I'd craved my whole life. I kept my side of the bargain perfectly, except for one mistake: I fell in love with him.

Then, his first love, Felicie, came back into the picture. Suddenly, I wasn't a wife; I was an obstacle. After our car crashed, he scrambled to save an unconscious Felicie from the wreckage, leaving me trapped inside the smoking vehicle without a second glance.

I survived the explosion, only to face something worse. When Felicie was stabbed by her own violent ex after using me as a human shield, she told Kobe I’d hired the man to kill her.

He believed her instantly.

He didn't check the cameras. He didn't ask me a single question. He just looked at me with pure, undiluted hatred and had me thrown into the mansion's cold, dark basement.

I was locked away for days, screaming for a man who had already left me to burn. I finally understood. It didn’t matter what the truth was. I wasn't her, and that was the only crime that mattered.

So I finalized our divorce, walked away without looking back, and started a new life. But months later, he found me. He showed up in my small café an ocean away, his eyes full of regret, begging for a second chance.

He said he finally knew the truth.

He said he loved me.