Discarded by the Billionaire:My Second Chance with His Rival

Natalie's POV In the third year of our marriage, my husband threw me to the wolves to take the fall for his first love. And right at that moment, an ultrasound report confirming I was eight weeks pregnant sat quietly in my purse. Late at night, the Maybach cruised down an empty elevated highway under a torrential downpour. Through the leather of my bag, my fingers gently traced the thin sheet of paper. After three years of walking on eggshells in this marriage, this tiny life felt like a fragile glimmer of dawn. Gathering my courage, I turned to the man resting beside me with his eyes closed. "Julian, there's something I need to tell you." "Sign this first." Julian Vance cut me off without even opening his eyes, tossing a folder onto my lap. I froze. Under the dim glow of the passing streetlights, the title at the top of the page came into focus: Corporate Ownership Transfer Agreement. The company being transferred was Apex Investments. The current owner listed was Chloe Sterling—who had just returned from abroad. The blood in my veins turned to ice. The words "I'm pregnant", right on the tip of my tongue, were brutally choked back down. Others might not know about Apex Investments, but I knew everything. It was an art investment firm Julian had registered under Chloe's name just last month as a lavish welcome-home gift. And just yesterday, word got out that Apex was being investigated by federal authorities for laundering millions in illicit offshore funds. "Julian," my voice trembled, laced with disbelief, "Apex is a sinking ship. You want me to take over as the legal owner and take the blame for Chloe's dirty money?" Julian's tone remained deadpan. "Chloe is hosting her solo art exhibition next month and applying for an international young artist award. She can't have a criminal record hanging over her head right now." My breath hitched. Chloe couldn't have a stain on her record. Right. Chloe was his untouchable goddess, perched high on her pedestal. Three years ago, chasing her so-called artistic dreams and looking down on Julian while he was fighting a brutal family succession war, Chloe had callously dumped him and fled the country. In a fit of fury, Julian married me—a girl who loved him with all her heart. All because my eyes bore an uncanny resemblance to Chloe's. For three long years, I swallowed every indignity just to take care of him. He had a sensitive stomach, so I spent hours learning to cook bland, healthy meals tailored to his palate. He was a severe germaphobe, so I personally washed his clothes by hand. I foolishly thought that if I were gentle and obedient enough, he would eventually fall in love with me. Yet last month, Chloe simply mentioned on the phone that she was unhappy overseas. Julian left me alone with a burning fever, flying out that very night to bring her back, pouring millions into setting up a company to pave her way. Yesterday, I saw it on the news with my own eyes. The same Julian who frowned if I even brushed against his sleeve was tenderly wiping Chloe's hands in public. It turned out love and indifference were really that obvious. My heart seized with agonizing pain. "So, just to keep her reputation spotless... so she doesn't go to federal prison..." I bit my lower lip hard, tasting copper. "You're pushing your own wife out to take the fall?" Julian frowned slightly, clearly displeased by my tone. "Watch your words, Natalie," he said coldly. "It's just cooperating with an inquiry. The Vance family's legal team isn't for show. Even if they take you in, I can bail you out immediately." He paused, his eyes sweeping over my pale face. "Since you hold the title of Mrs. Vance, it's only right that you take on some risk for the family. Once this blows over, I'll transfer the south-side estate into your name." So that was it. I closed my eyes in bitter despair. He wasn't just cruel; he knew exactly how to manipulate me. He knew I owed him my life, so he took it for granted that no matter how humiliated I was, I would obediently submit. To him, this was just a business transaction that could be settled with a luxury estate. Looking down at the agreement, I felt like the past three years of my life had been one giant joke. "What if your legal team fails to protect me?" I looked into his eyes, the light in mine dying out bit by bit. "What if I really end up in prison for Chloe?" Meeting my gaze, Julian hesitated for a fraction of a second. But he quickly looked away, his voice colder than before. "I said I won't let anything happen to you. Just sign it." His patience had run out. He would brook no defiance. I lowered my head, my hand slipping weakly off my purse. In that moment, I was profoundly grateful I hadn't told him about the baby. If Julian knew I was pregnant, would his heart soften? No. Never. He didn't even care about my life for Chloe's sake; why would he care about a child from a woman he didn't love? He would probably just force me to have an abortion. I didn't argue any further. I pulled out a pen and signed my name. Watching my submissive surrender, a flicker of surprise crossed Julian's eyes. He had expected tears and a scene, but I was terrifyingly calm. Taking the document, he offered a rare word of explanation. "I'll be very busy these days. Just stay at home and rest." I stared at the rain outside the window without turning around. "Okay." My voice was as faint as smoke, ready to scatter with the wind. Julian noticed something off in my voice and frowned again. In the end, he said nothing more, closing his eyes to rest.Natalie's POV Early the next morning, Julian left for the office. By afternoon, I was sitting on the sofa in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, shears in hand, pruning the delicate orchid Julian loved most. It was a temperamental plant. I had spent three years nurturing it, and only this year had it finally produced buds. That was when Chloe Sterling walked in. "Natalie, so this is where you are." The sweet, delicate voice rang out behind me. My hands paused. Chloe held a steaming cup of coffee, carrying herself with an ease that suggested she was the true mistress of this house. She looked at me, her eyes dropping to the shears in my hands, a flash of blatant contempt crossing her face. "Still taking such good care of the things he likes? You really work too hard," Chloe purred, stepping forward to sit on the sofa opposite me. I didn't look up, asking flatly, "What are you doing here?" "To thank you, of course." Chloe let out a soft laugh, lifting her coffee cup for a delicate sip. With that movement, I caught sight of the pink diamond ring glinting on her ring finger. It was a flawless stone, refracting a blinding sparkle under the overcast sky. My grip on the shears tightened instantly. It was the centerpiece sold at Sotheby's last month for an astronomical price. Everyone in high society had whispered that Mr. Vance spent a fortune just to please his wife. It turned out he bought it to please his first love. "Honestly, yesterday didn't scare me at all," Chloe said, placing her cup down and deliberately stroking the diamond. "Julian was so worried I'd feel stressed that he cleared his entire schedule this morning to take me to a private jewelry show. He told me everything was taken care of and that I should just focus on my exhibition." My hands froze completely. "Natalie, don't blame Julian," Chloe leaned forward slightly, her voice dripping with condescending pity. "You know how businessmen are—always maximizing profit. Trading a placeholder wife in exchange for keeping me completely clean? It's a deal where he wins no matter what." I listened silently, forcing down the violent surge of fury inside my chest. I was furious at my own three years of sheer stupidity. "Is that so?" I set the shears down, doing my best to keep my voice steady. "Then congratulations. You won't have to go to prison." Chloe clearly hadn't expected me to remain so unfazed. A flash of irritation and defeat flickered across her face. "Drop the righteous act!" The gentle facade cracked, her voice turning shrill. "Do you really think Julian will protect you? You're nothing more than a scapegoat he threw to the wolves to save me!" Her hand shook violently, and a few drops of scalding coffee splashed onto the pale skin of her hand. "Ouch—!" Chloe let out a sharp cry of pain, her hand trembling as the ceramic cup shattered against the carpet. Right at that exact second, the front door swung open. "What's going on?" A deep, commanding voice cut through the air. I turned my head. Julian was striding in with his phone in hand. So they had come back together. Julian had only stepped outside to take a business call, and Chloe couldn't wait a single minute to come inside and gloat. Before I could say a word, Chloe rushed toward him with teary eyes. "Julian, I just wanted to come thank Natalie... I wasn't careful with the cup..." Julian's eyes landed on the scalded red patch on her hand, his brow instantly knitting into a tight knot. Without sparing me a glance, he grabbed Chloe's hand, his voice laced with raw concern. "How did this happen?" "It's not Natalie's fault. I was just clumsy," Chloe whimpered, biting her lip, her eyes subtly darting in my direction. It was a manipulative hint so clumsy even a toddler wouldn't fall for it. Yet Julian swallowed it whole. He pulled a silk handkerchief from his pocket, bending his head to meticulously dab the coffee stains off her hand. I watched my husband shower another woman with a gentleness I had never once received. "It seems three years haven't been enough for you to learn how to behave as Mrs. Vance." Julian's sharp eyes finally snapped to me, brimming with frosty warning. "What did I tell you last night? Don't provoke her." His gaze swept over the shattered porcelain on the floor, his voice dangerously low. My heart shrank into a cold, suffocating ball. Bone-chilling cold. I stared at Julian for a long time. So long that his brow furrowed with impatient irritation once more. Suddenly, I stood up. I picked up the shears from the table. Julian's eyes hardened, instinctively shielding Chloe behind him, his tone turning venomous. "Natalie, what the hell are you doing?" "Snip." The sharp sound of severed stems echoed through the room. I turned around and sheared off Julian's prized orchid with a single cut. The fragile buds, which hadn't even had the chance to bloom, tumbled lifelessly onto the carpet.Natalie's POV Without sparing Julian another glance, I turned toward the stairs. "Stop right there," Julian's voice barked behind me, thick with rising anger. "Apologize to Chloe." My feet froze on the steps. I looked back, my eyes cold and dripping with mockery. "Julian, I've done everything you asked. What on earth do you want me to apologize for?" A shadow crossed Julian's face. He was used to my docility; for three years, I had blended into the background like the furniture in this penthouse. Today, my defiance grated violently on his nerves. "Julian, let it go..." Chloe chimed in softly, clutching his sleeve with a fragile expression. "It's natural for Natalie to be upset. With the investigation breathing down her neck, she's probably terrified..." Before she could finish, the piercing wail of police sirens shattered the quiet outside. Several squad cars pulled up, blocking the front gates of the estate. My hand clamped down on the banister, my knuckles turning stark white. They were here even faster than I had anticipated. The front doors were pushed open, and federal agents strode in, flashing their badges. "We have received a formal complaint regarding Apex Investments' involvement in large-scale money laundering. We have a warrant to bring in the current legal owner, Ms. Natalie Hayes." Chloe instinctively shrank behind Julian, her palms slick with cold sweat. If Julian hadn't forced that transfer agreement on me last night, she would be the one standing here facing federal agents. Julian didn't look at the agents. He turned his head, his gaze settling calmly on me on the stairs. "Go change your clothes," he said smoothly, as if they weren't law enforcement, but a private driver waiting to take me to a gala. I stood on the stairs, looking down at the man. He had personally pushed me into this abyss, yet now he spoke with absolute nonchalance, expecting me to walk into it with poise. "Julian," I curled my fingers into fists, unable to hide the tremor of fear in my voice. "You told me yesterday it was just routine questioning. You said you wouldn't let anything happen to me." Julian frowned slightly, though his tone softened into a placating murmur. "The Vance legal team is already en route. Don't worry, you're only going in for questioning. You'll be back soon." He turned to the lead agent. "My wife is not in good health. I trust you will conduct this strictly by the book. My family's legal department will be monitoring every step of the process." The agent nodded. "Mr. Vance, we only follow the evidence." Step by step, I descended the stairs. As I passed Julian, I stopped. "Julian," I tilted my head slightly, staring at the face I had loved for three years, my eyes a barren wasteland. "What if... they find irrefutable evidence?" The tangled mess of Apex Investments was not something that could be brushed off with simple questioning. It was a bottomless black hole. Looking at my pale, hollow face, a brief flicker of unease flashed across Julian's eyes. But he lowered his voice and said, "I have arranged everything. Nothing will happen to you." Beside him, Chloe watched Julian soothing me with a flash of bitter jealousy. She stepped forward, looping her arm around his, her voice honeyed. "Julian, I'm sure Ms. Hayes will be fine. Let's not waste any more time; delaying things will only make it harder on her." Julian took her words to heart. He looked at me, his tone calm. "Chloe is right. You'll be fine." He spoke of federal detention as if it were a weekend getaway. "Fine." I closed my eyes, swallowing the bitter bile in my throat. I turned around and extended both hands toward the agents. Cold steel handcuffs snapped shut around my slender wrists, the chill biting straight to the bone. As they escorted me out the door, I didn't look back. I straightened my spine and stepped out into the pouring rain. Through the squad car window, I saw Julian standing in the warm foyer, his brow furrowing deeper and deeper. What he didn't know was that once I walked out that door, I was never coming back. The police car sped away from the gated community, the heavy rain blurring the world outside. I leaned against the cold glass, the steel cuffs digging painfully into my wrists. As we entered the downtown district, the agent in the passenger seat suddenly received a call. Hanging up, he turned around, looking at me with a mixture of pity and disbelief. "Ms. Hayes, we just received an update. The Vance Corporation's legal team has just submitted supplementary evidence." My heart plummeted into a bottomless void, an ominous premonition seizing me. "The documents prove that all illicit fund transfers through Apex Investments were conducted under your sole instruction. Furthermore, the Vance legal department has officially withdrawn from representing you." He looked at my ash-white face and sighed. "In other words, you currently have no legal counsel. Do you want us to appoint a public defender for you?" The color drained from my face until I looked like a corpse.Natalie's POV In the interrogation room, the fluorescent bulb overhead hummed with a harsh, blinding glare. I had been sitting there for twelve straight hours without a single drop of water. "Natalie Hayes, I'll ask you one more time. Over the past two years, how did you orchestrate the offshore transfer of over forty million dollars?" The interrogator slammed his hand onto the metal table, his eyes boring into mine. I lifted my head, my face paper-white, my voice hoarse yet eerily quiet. "I don't know. Before last night, I wasn't even the owner of Apex." "You don't know?" The investigator scoffed, slamming a thick stack of documents in front of me. "This was just submitted by the Vance Corporation's legal department. It clearly bears your signature, confirming that all financial transactions were carried out under your personal directive! Are you still trying to deny it?" My gaze fell upon the paperwork. It was indeed my signature. It was the very transfer agreement Julian had thrown at me in the back of the Maybach last night. It turned out it wasn't just an ownership transfer. It was a signed confession. Julian had scrubbed every trace of guilt off Chloe Sterling. And left me to bear the entire weight of the crime alone. "Natalie, digging your heels in won't do you any good," the investigator said, softening his tone slightly. "Confess voluntarily and cooperate with the state. That's your only way out." I didn't answer. I looked down at the raw red marks where the handcuffs dug into my wrists, and a low, dry laugh escaped my throat. In the empty interrogation room, the sound was hauntingly desolate. "I have nothing to confess." I closed my eyes, shutting out the last dying ember of light in my soul. "I signed what was put in front of me. Just sentence me." The investigator frowned, clearly having never seen a suspect give up so quickly. With irrefutable documentation and a suspect who refused to contest it, the paperwork moved with brutal efficiency. Late that night, I was transferred to a holding cell in the county detention center. The cell was damp and freezing, reeking of mildew and despair. I was assigned a thin cot in the far corner. The moment I lay down, several women who had been lounging quietly stood up and closed in on me. The ringleader had cropped hair and venom in her eyes. She stopped right before my cot, looking down at me with a sneer. "You Natalie Hayes?" I eyed them warily. "What do you want?" "Nothing personal. Just paid to do a job," the short-haired woman said, kicking my plastic water cup across the floor. "Someone on the outside sent word. Said Mrs. Vance is used to the high life, so we should make sure you feel right at home in here." My stomach twisted into knots. It couldn't be anyone other than Chloe Sterling. Julian threw me in here to take the blame, and Chloe was seizing the chance to break me—or kill me. "Get up! Go scrub the latrines!" The woman grabbed my collar, violently yanking me off the cot. Weak and starved after twelve hours without food, the sudden jerk sent me crashing hard against the concrete floor. My knees struck the stone, bruising instantly. "No," I gritted out, glaring at her through the dark. "Still think you're a billionaire's wife?" The woman barked a laugh and backhanded me across the face. My head snapped to the side, warm blood instantly trickling from the corner of my mouth. "Beat her! Teach her some manners!" The women swarmed me, fists and heavy boots raining down on my body like hail. I didn't scream for help. I knew that in a place where Chloe could bribe the guards, screaming would only invite worse brutality. I curled into a tight ball, wrapping my arms around my vitals, biting my lip raw to keep from crying out. The metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth. I didn't know how long it lasted before the beating finally stopped. The short-haired woman spat on the ground and signaled the others away. "Whenever you learn your place, the beatings stop." I lay on the freezing concrete, every bone in my body screaming in agony. The night rain was still pounding outside, the muffled rumble filtering through the high barred window, bone-chilling and bleak. With great effort, I dragged myself up against the damp wall. My forehead was burning. A fever had set in. In the haze of delirium and unbearable pain, fragments of the past three years flashed through my mind. I remembered our wedding day, how Julian had slipped the ring onto my finger with cold detachment, saying, "You are merely Mrs. Vance. There will never be any real feelings between us." I remembered countless late nights, keeping the foyer light on waiting for him, only to be greeted by the scent of another woman's perfume lingering on his suit. For three whole years, it had all been my pathetic, one-sided delusion. The following afternoon, delirious with fever, I was summoned by a guard. "Natalie Hayes. Visitor." Dragging my heavy, aching limbs, I walked toward the visiting room. Deep down, a pathetic ember of hope still flickered. Was it Julian? Had he discovered that his legal team abandoned me? Had he found out what they were doing to me in here, and come to take me home? Behind the glass divider, I lifted my head. The man sitting on the other side wasn't Julian. It was Julian's personal assistant, Leo. Leo looked at me, a flash of pure shock crossing his features. After only two days in lockup, the once graceful, quiet woman was stripped of all life. The left side of my face was terribly swollen, the corner of my lip caked with dried purple blood. Sweat beaded continuously on my burning forehead, and I was trembling like a withered leaf in the autumn wind. "Where is Julian?" I asked, my voice scraping out like sandpaper. "Mr. Vance is in an executive meeting." Leo avoided my eyes, pulling a document from his briefcase. "Ma'am, Mr. Vance asked me to bring this to you." I squinted, struggling through the blur to make out the words. It was a formal plea agreement. Leo's voice crackled through the intercom. "Ms. Sterling's art exhibition is tomorrow. As long as you sign this plea, the case will be closed immediately." "Leo," I interrupted him. My voice wasn't loud, but it held a terrifying, hollow stillness. "Does he know what I've been going through in here?" I stared at Leo, the very last trace of light in my eyes snuffing out forever.Natalie's POV Leo looked away, a glimmer of guilt in his eyes, but he still forced himself to pull out another document. "Ma'am, Mr. Vance has already handled everything. The investigation has been suppressed, and Ms. Sterling's exhibition will proceed tomorrow as scheduled." "Mr. Vance said you've worked hard these past few days. As long as you sign this Non-Disclosure Agreement and swear under oath that this had nothing to do with Ms. Sterling, you can walk out tonight." I didn't move. My unfocused gaze drifted sluggishly over the paperwork. My ears were ringing, and every inch of my body radiated searing pain. Leo paused, then added, "As compensation, the south-side estate worth fifty million will be transferred to your name first thing tomorrow morning. After that, life will go on as usual." "Life will go on as usual." My cracked lips twisted slightly, and a low, humorless laugh escaped my throat. He had personally thrown me into this hellhole, turning a blind eye as Chloe's hired thugs beat and tortured me. And now that the storm had passed, he tossed a mansion at my feet, like throwing a bone to an obedient dog. In his eyes, my life and dignity were worth nothing more than a piece of real estate. "Leo," I said, slowly raising my head. "Hand me a blank sheet of paper, please." Leo blinked, assuming I was going to write down additional financial demands. He quickly slipped a blank sheet of paper and a pen through the slot beneath the glass. I picked up the pen. The back of my right hand was mottled with dark purple bruises; even gripping the pen sent tremors through my fingers. Yet when the tip met the paper, my strokes were resolute and unwavering. At the very top of the page, I wrote four stark words: DIVORCE SETTLEMENT AGREEMENT. Leo's face drained of color. "Husband: Julian Vance. Wife: Natalie Hayes. Divorcing voluntarily due to the irreconcilable breakdown of marriage." "The wife, Natalie Hayes, waives all spousal support, property division, and claims to the Vance estate. She walks away with nothing and wishes never to see Julian Vance again." Beneath those lines, I signed my name with heavy, jagged strokes. Then, I lowered my head and bit down brutally on my split, bleeding lip. The metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth. Pressing my thumb against the wound, I slammed a bloody fingerprint right beside my signature. A vivid, crimson stamp. It seemed to bleed out every drop of love, devotion, and humiliation I had endured over the past three years. I shoved the bloodstained divorce paper, along with the unsigned NDA, back through the slot. "Ma'am, what are you doing?!" Leo's forehead broke out in cold sweat as he stared at the bloody fingerprint. "Mr. Vance never mentioned a divorce! Throwing a tantrum right now will only hurt you!" I looked at him, my eyes devoid of any emotion. "Tell Julian Vance that I don't want the title of Mrs. Vance anymore. He can take this paper and clear the way for his precious first love." With that, I forced myself onto my feet. Without glancing back through the glass, I dragged my leaden legs back down the dim, narrow corridor, ignoring Leo's frantic calls behind me. Late that night, the heavy iron gates of the detention facility finally slid open. The street outside was deserted, save for the flickering streetlights cutting through the veil of rain. The icy downpour soaked my clothes within seconds, sending violent shivers racking through my body. Clutching my arms around myself, burning with fever, I stumbled alone into the endless, stormy night. Dragging my legs like dead weight, I walked for what felt like an eternity until I reached a twenty-four-hour convenience store. Using the last few dollars in my pocket, I bought a prepaid burner phone and dialed a number I hadn't touched in three years. "Hello?" From the receiver came a deep, steady male voice. I leaned against the freezing glass window of the store, my body sliding slowly to the floor as the choked sobs I had held back finally broke through. "I want to come home." The line went dead silent for a heartbeat, followed by the sound of sharp, steady breathing. "Where are you? I'm coming to get you."Natalie's POV The moment I gave him my location, darkness pulled me under. After days of relentless physical and mental torment, the second my guard dropped, my body gave out entirely. When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in a private hospital room. Moving my fingers sent sharp, agonizing pulses straight through my bones. "You're awake." A low, gentle voice sounded beside the bed. I turned my head and met Ethan Montgomery's deep, steady gaze. "Does it hurt anywhere?" Ethan leaned in slightly, his voice hushed and cautious. The Montgomery and Hayes families had been close friends for generations. Ethan and my late father had been long-time business partners and close friends, though Ethan was only five years older than me. I parted my lips, wanting to shake my head, but the door opened and a doctor stepped inside. "Ms. Hayes, you're finally awake." The doctor looked down at my chart, his brow furrowed with grave concern. "When you were brought in, your fever was nearly 104 degrees, with extensive soft-tissue contusions across your body. But the most critical issue is that you are showing severe signs of a threatened miscarriage." My mind went completely blank. Instinctively, my trembling hand drifted down to rest over my flat stomach. That ultrasound report I never got to show Julian hit me like a fatal blow. The doctor's next words were like a bucket of freezing water poured over my head. "Between the high fever and severe physical trauma, there is massive internal bleeding around the placenta. You must remain on strict bed rest for the next few days. Even walking could trigger an irreversible loss of the pregnancy." I froze on the bed, the tips of my fingers growing colder by the second. In the county jail, the memory of those women kicking repeatedly at my stomach flashed across my mind. Julian had sent me there to protect Chloe. He was the one who had handed me over to be brutalized. "Ethan," I whispered, closing my eyes. "Take me away. Anywhere. I don't want to spend another minute in any city where Julian Vance breathes." Looking at the dark bruises around my eyes, Ethan's jaw clenched, his knuckles turning white. "Okay," he said, suppressing the lethal fury burning in his chest. He gently brushed a strand of hair from my forehead. "I'm already making the arrangements. But the doctor said you're too weak right now. Rest here for three days. Once your condition stabilizes slightly, I'll take you away immediately." I didn't say another word, turning my head away numbly. On the bedside table sat a clear evidence bag containing my old phone and my wedding ring. With shaking hands, I pressed the power button on the phone. The screen flickered on, and push notifications immediately flooded the display. "#Billionaire Julian Vance Spends Millions Sponsoring Chloe Sterling's Solo Art Exhibition#" "#Julian Vance & Chloe Sterling: A Match Made in Heaven#" In the attached photo, Julian was bending down, gently smoothing the hem of Chloe's gown, his eyes filled with a tenderness that could drown someone. I stared at the picture for a long time, then suddenly let out a faint laugh. A laugh so bitter that tears spilled over, splashing against the back of my hand. Opening the settings, I deleted all my social media accounts without a shred of hesitation. Then, I grabbed the wedding ring on my finger and pulled. It got stuck at the knuckle, but I didn't stop. Even as it scraped away the skin and drew tiny beads of fresh blood, I yanked it off ruthlessly and threw it into the trash can beside the bed. As long as I survived these three days, Julian Vance and I would be strangers forever.