Hidden Heir, Toxic Revenge

I swallowed my pride to beg my billionaire exboyfriend for cash, but his face remained an unreadable mask of ice as he slammed his goldembossed wedding invitation hard against my chest.

Six years ago, I took a threemilliondollar check from his mother, faked an abortion, and abandoned him.

Now, he sat at the top of the food chain, about to marry a gorgeous, highsociety heiress who matched his pedigree flawlessly.

He brought his fiancée to humiliate me, forcing me to attend his wedding and watch him say his vows.

My fingernails dug into my palms as I forced a desperate, pleading smile onto my face.

He had no idea that the baby I had risked my life to secretly deliver—our son—was currently lying in a hospital bed, out of time and slowly dying.

Chapter 1 Six years after our messy breakup, I ran into Roman at the lowest point of my life. It was a college reunion. No one expected him to show up.

Someone joked, "Roman, you never keep in touch with us mortals. What brings the billionaire out to our little gettogether? Did you hear Veda was coming?

Still thinking about her?" I sat tucked away in the corner booth. My spine snapped straight.

I looked up to see Roman with a cigarette trapped between his lips, his dark, indifferent gaze locked dead on me. Everyone knew how obsessed Roman used to be with me.

He was the filthy rich heir who fell for me at first sight. During those heavy, tangled nights, he would interlock his fingers with mine, swearing we'd be together forever.

Until I got pregnant. His mother handed me a check for three million dollars. Her order was simple: get rid of the baby and disappear.

That day, Roman dropped to his knees outside the clinic. He slammed his fists against the heavy door. Over and over, his voice cracked as he begged. "Baby, baby, please! I'll work.

I'll make the money. I'll earn a hundred times three million dollars, and it's all yours. Okay? I'm begging you. Don't throw me away.

Don't throw our baby away…" Lying on the cold operating table, I bit down on my lower lip until I tasted copper, swallowing the sobs rising in my throat.

Separated by a single thin door, I listened to Roman swear he would hate me for the rest of his life. Nobody here knew how ugly our fallout had been.

Someone shoved me toward Roman's side of the table, laughing. "You used to love Veda so much you'd take a bullet for her.

How'd you ever let her go?" The crowd jeered, chanting for us to get back together. Roman's frat brother shot me a look.

A sneer twisted his mouth. "Roman can have any woman he wants," he announced loudly. "Who the hell does Veda think she is?" "Why would he waste a single breath remembering her?" He went on, making sure everyone in the room heard.

There was someone else. A woman who had been by Roman's side for the last three years. She was softer than me. Prettier than me. The perfect fit for a billionaire's girlfriend.

His whole inner circle already called her 'sisterinlaw'. Rumor had it, they were tying the knot soon. The cheering and laughter in the room died instantly.

Only Roman's buddy was still smirking, loudly inviting everyone to the upcoming wedding. He tossed the invitation across the table.

It hit me square in the face before sliding onto my lap. I stared down at the heavy cardstock. Roman's name was printed in sharp gold lettering. Next to his was another name.

Felicity. Just the sound of it belonged to a good, proper girl. She was probably everything I wasn't—obedient, sweet, knowing exactly how to love him without leaving him broken.

Chapter 2 Six years. It had been six years since I last saw him. Knowing Roman was doing well was enough.

I swallowed the heavy lump forming in my throat, forcing the moisture back from my eyes. I tilted my chin up and met his gaze. "Congratulations." Roman stared dead at me.

At my word, a cold, sharp smirk broke across his face.

He brutally crushed out his cigarette in the ashtray. "Veda, don't bother coming to the wedding," he said, his voice pure ice. "My wife wouldn't be thrilled to see you.

And if she's upset, I'm the one who hurts." My fingers clamped around the thin, red cardstock until the edges dug into my skin.

I froze, then forced a stiff smile and nodded. "Okay." That day, the room buzzed with the realization that Roman had truly moved on. Nobody could comprehend it.

We used to burn so hot, so deep. Now, he was walking down the aisle, and someone else was wearing the white dress. Everyone had assumed he would wait for me forever.

Now, they were all dying to know who this Felicity was—the girl who had bewitched him, the one he guarded so fiercely.

Knowing Roman wanted me out of his sight, I grabbed my purse and slipped out of the reunion early. On the subway ride home, a friend texted me a photo of Felicity.

The girl on the screen had a painfully innocent, pure look. Rumor had it she was sweet, clinging to him exactly the way he liked.

The woman in the photo was wearing the latest haute couture gown, leaning against a limitededition supercar—the astronomical ride Roman had just secured at an auction last week. [Doesn't the way Felicity smiles look exactly like you, Veda?] my friend's next text read. [Do you think Roman is still in love with you?

Is it really over between you two?] I exhaled a long, shaky breath, letting the phone screen dim in my hand.

After a heavy silence, I typed back a quick, numb reply: [It doesn't matter. I don't care anymore.] I was done playing games with Roman. He would never know.

He would never know that I had hidden from the world and secretly given birth to our son. Ezra was sick. His tiny body was failing, and he was running out of time.

This past year had dragged me through hell.

I bled myself dry working every gig I could find, desperate to buy the best imported meds just so my boy wouldn't have to writhe in agony.

For cash, I'd swallow my pride and crash a reunion to beg old classmates for loans.

I'd hustle in highend VIP clubs, downing liquor for tips until my stomach lining burned and I coughed up blood.

I thought the reunion was the final time Roman and I would ever cross paths in this lifetime. Until a few days later, when Felicity hunted me down.

She must have heard the whispers about her being my exact replica and decided to see the original for herself. She rolled into my club with her entourage, demanding me by name.

One of her lapdogs sneered at me. "So you're Veda? Roman's little first love?" Her eyes raked over my heavy club makeup, her lip curling in disgust like I was street trash.

I dug my acrylics into my palms, forcing down the urge to snap. I couldn't afford to get fired. "Are you ordering bottles?" I asked flatly. "If not, don't waste my time.

I'm on the clock." The girl bristled, her voice spiking as I refused to cower. "What's with the attitude, bitch?

I'm talking to you!" She slammed her hand on the table, pointing to a bottle of highproof liquor. "Fine. You want cash, Veda?

Chug this entire bottle without stopping, and I'll drop two hundred grand right now." Draining that bottle straight meant a guaranteed trip to the ER.

Felicity swirled the expensive champagne in her glass. Her fingers, tipped with a flawless French manicure, tapped lightly against the table.

She looked at me with a condescending, manufactured pity. "Didn't we agree we were just coming to look?" "After all, Veda is so desperate for cash right now.

Backing her into a corner like this is just too cruel.

I mean, I know everyone says she's a total maneater and told me to watch my back," Felicity continued, perfectly playing the victim. "Even Roman warned me I'm too naive, that he was terrified she'd bully me.

But really, I'm perfectly fine." I stood dead still, letting her poisonous little speech wash over me.

The subtext was loud and clear: she was shoving it in my face just how fiercely Roman protected her, and just how deeply he loathed me. A dry smirk touched my lips.

I didn't waste my breath arguing. I just locked eyes with her loudmouth friend. "Two hundred grand to down the bottle.

We have a deal, right?" I grabbed the liquor bottle by the neck and tipped it straight down my throat. The entire booth froze in stunned silence.

None of them actually believed I'd risk my own life for a payout.

Chapter 3 Felicity reached out, her delicate fingers wrapping around my wrist. "Veda," she murmured, her voice dripping with artificial concern. "How can you destroy yourself like this just for a paycheck?

A girl needs to have at least a little selfrespect." "I really didn't want to bring this up because I didn't want to hurt your feelings… but you know Roman absolutely despises women who sell themselves out like this, right?" The liquor was battery acid, chewing through my stomach lining.

I swallowed back the bile and cut her off cold. "Where's the cash?

What Roman likes or hates is none of my damn business." "I just want the two hundred grand you promised." Felicity’s perfectly sculpted brows pinched together.

She looked at me with deep, theatrical disappointment. "To be honest, Veda, two hundred grand is pocket change to me.

I could throw it at anyone on the street." "But I can't give it to you. Hate me if you want, but it's for your own good.

I can't just stand here and fund your downward spiral…" Her lapdog shoved me hard in the shoulder, giggling. "I was totally playing you, trash. I'm not giving you a dime.

What are you gonna do about it?" A low, freezing laugh scraped out of my throat. I didn't hesitate.

I whipped my arm back and slammed the empty liquor bottle against the sharp edge of the table. The glass shattered like a bomb. Shrapnel exploded outward.

A jagged piece slashed straight across Felicity’s bare, flawless thigh. Bright red blood instantly beaded up against her pale skin.

Felicity let out a piercing shriek, tears spilling over her lashes. The pack of mean girls went dead silent, frozen in shock. The heavy VIP door kicked open.

Roman stood in the frame. His dark, icecold eyes locked onto the scene, then dead onto me. My breath hitched. I froze, suddenly hyperaware of exactly how I looked.

Heavy, cheap club makeup melting off my face. Reeking of alcohol. Trapped in a desperate hustle just to survive.

After everything, this was how Roman finally saw me—stripped of all my dignity, fighting like a stray dog for scraps.

I didn't give a shit if the rest of the world looked down on me, but Roman was the one person I never wanted to see me this broken.

But life didn't even let me keep that one, miserable shred of pride. I dug my nails so hard into my palms they drew blood. I forced my spine straight.

I locked my jaw and watched, unflinching, as Roman strode forward and pulled a sobbing Felicity into his chest, his large hands gently wiping away her tears. He didn't look at me.

When he finally spoke, his voice was dangerously quiet, each word a heavy blow. "Veda. Who exactly do you think you're bullying right in front of me?" "You want the money? Fine.

Apologize to her first." Watching the fierce, territorial way he shielded her… a brutal flash of memory hit me. He used to protect me exactly like that.

Now, he was demanding I kneel and kiss the ring to appease his new queen. That was fine. For Ezra's medical bills, I'd do absolutely anything.

Buried against Roman's broad chest, Felicity tilted her head just enough to shoot me a smug, venomous little smirk. I stared down at the thin scratch on her thigh.

Without breaking eye contact, I bent down, picked up a jagged shard of the shattered bottle, and dragged it hard straight down my own forearm. Skin parted.

Blood welled up thick and fast, dripping off my fingertips onto the expensive carpet. I held my bleeding arm out, my voice dead. "Pay up.

Two hundred grand." Roman’s gaze snapped to the blood pouring down my arm. The muscles in his jaw visibly jumped, and the edges of his eyes flared a violent, raw red.

Felicity saw the dangerous shift in his face. Her smirk vanished.

She hurriedly dug into her designer purse, pulled out a black card, and shoved it into my uninjured hand. "Veda," she stammered, layering the sweet innocence back on thick. "I'm giving this to you, not because I owe you, but because I refuse to sink to your level and make a bloody scene over pocket change." I didn't waste a single breath on her fakesaint routine.

I gripped the card, turned on my heel, and headed for the door.

Before I took two steps, a massive hand clamped around my bleeding arm, hauling me back. "Veda!" Roman gritted out, his grip irontight, his chest heaving. "Does it not fucking hurt?

Will you actually die without this money?" The furious, jagged pinch of his brow… it almost looked like his heart was breaking for me. I ripped my arm out of his grasp.

I spun around, a razorsharp sneer on my face. "I've always been a gold digger, Roman. Did you forget?" "Mind your own damn business. Keep your girl on a leash.

And don't ever cross my path again." Chapter 4 Roman’s gaze bore into me, freezing the air between us. The sharp set of his jaw told me exactly what he was thinking.

My words had dragged him right back to the wreckage of our past—back to when he threw his entire life away for me, only for me to take the cash and brutally cut him loose.

Acid chewed at the lining of my stomach, radiating a blinding pain. I spun on my heel to leave, done with the conversation. But the floor vanished beneath my feet.

He moved like an outofcontrol tyrant. His massive, scorching hand clamped down on my thigh like a steel vise, hauling me effortlessly over his broad, granitehard shoulder.

He didn't even break stride as he kicked the heavy VIP door open, marching out right in front of the stunned, deadsilent crowd of trustfund babies.

Every pair of eyes in the club snapped toward us. I thrashed wildly, kicking and clawing, demanding he put me down.

His large hand came down hard, delivering a sharp smack to my ass. "Veda," he gritted out, the vibration rumbling straight from his chest into mine. "I must have owed you my life in a past one to let you torture me like this in this one." He tossed me into the passenger seat of his Maybach.

Before I could scramble back, his massive frame caged me in, his weight pinning my legs down.

His long fingers clamped around my jaw, tilting my face up to meet his blazing stare. "Sometimes, I really want to kill you." The hard lines of his face screamed pure hatred.

But the raw, bleeding intensity behind his dark pupils… it felt like he was suffocating on how much he still wanted me.

The cramping in my stomach spiked, stealing the air right out of my lungs. Cold sweat beaded at my temples as I glared up at him, entirely speechless.

The dangerous fire in Roman's eyes flickered. His brow pulled tight.

Reaching across me, he popped open the glove compartment, pulled out a white antacid pill, and shoved it past my lips. My breath hitched.

There, shoved deep in the corner of the compartment, was a graveyard of my ghosts. A driedout tube of lipstick I hadn't been able to part with. A snapped black hair tie.

A childish pink hairpin Roman had bought for me ages ago. A tiny, pathetic shrine of everything that used to be mine, riding shotgun with him through all the years I was gone.

A searing heat flooded the back of my eyes. A single tear broke free. I ripped my face away, scrubbing the wetness off my cheek before he could catch it. Six years.

Six years, and his muscle memory still kept my painkillers stocked. Even in my absence, he was still wired to take care of me. I locked down the fracture in my chest.

Gathering every ounce of strength I had left, I shoved both hands hard against his solid chest, forcing him back.

I plastered a sharp, hollow smile onto my face. "Roman, stop stalking me." "It's pathetic, and honestly? It's just annoying." "You clearly missed the memo. I've been married.

I had a kid." I let out a dry, mocking laugh. "What, were you actually holding out hope for some fairytale reunion? Roman, don't be a glutton for punishment." The blow landed.

He stumbled back a step, freezing. But the second I turned to slide out of the car, his hand shot out, slamming me back against the leather seat.

His long fingers wrapped around my throat—not squeezing, but pinning me with an inescapable, trembling force. "Veda," he rasped, his voice tearing at the edges. "I call bullshit.

You better tell me right fucking now that this is a sick joke." "Because if it's not, I swear to God, I'll destroy you." I held his murderous, desperate stare.

My pulse pounded against his palm, but my voice came out dead flat. "Fine. I'll prove it." I directed him to the city's pediatric hospital.

It was nine at night, the inpatient ward bathed in harsh, clinical fluorescents. I stopped outside the isolation room.

Tapping a manicured nail against the observation glass, I pointed at the tiny boy sitting up in the hospital bed, quietly reading a picture book. "That's my son," I told Roman.

His name was Ezra. He was the only piece of my soul that still mattered.

He had my face, but the fire inside him was all Roman—fiercely protective, deeply gentle, with a stubborn, dominant streak running right through his dark eyes.

He had inherited every single perfect piece of the man standing next to me. He was the best thing I had ever made. But his little body was failing.

Almost six years old, yet so terrifyingly frail and thin. And he was so impossibly, agonizingly quiet about the pain. Roman stared through the glass.

He stood there for an eternity, paralyzed. Then, his massive fist flew back and slammed into the cinderblock wall with a sickening crack. His head dropped between his shoulders.

A single, dark drop of moisture splashed onto the linoleum floor. In all the years I'd known him, I had never seen the untouchable billionaire look so shattered.

The last words Roman said to me that night were scraped raw from the bottom of his chest. "Veda. You have no fucking heart." He didn't ask who the father was.

And he didn't recognize that the boy dying on the other side of the glass was his own flesh and blood. Chapter 5 Roman didn't come looking for me after that.

I just heard through the grapevine that he bought Felicity a custom designer gown and a massive diamond ring. He took her back to the family estate to meet his mother.

Rumor had it, the matriarch adored Felicity, and Roman declared she was the only woman he'd ever marry. The college group chat was blowing up. [I'm so jealous of Felicity.

Imagine being treated like a literal princess by a billionaire like Roman.] [Well, Felicity is a total sweetheart. She's so gentle and forgiving.

She heard Veda was practically homeless and actually wanted to cut her a check to help her out.] [Women that pure deserve to be protected forever…] Staring at the glowing screen, my pulse kicked into a hard, erratic rhythm against my ribs.

A sick feeling pooled in my gut. I rushed to the pediatric ward.

I arrived outside the isolation room, just in time to catch that entitled little heiress, Felicity, shoving a wad of hundreddollar bills into the charge nurse's scrub pocket.

She used her most arrogant, demanding tone to aggressively interrogate the staff until they spilled Ezra's secret: he had no father on his birth certificate.

The door was cracked open. I heard Felicity's sickly sweet voice cooing at Ezra. "Sweetie, I heard your daddy abandoned you and your mommy.

Is that true?" "You know, your mommy is so pathetic. To pay for your hospital bills, she spends every single night drinking with all sorts of strange men. She's dirty.

Honestly, it's totally normal that your daddy threw a woman like her away…" "Liar!" Ezra’s raspy voice cracked as he screamed back at her. "You're the dirty one!

My mommy and I don't want your stupid money! Get out!" A violent tremor ripped through my limbs. I kicked the door wide open. Felicity spun around, startled.

Her flawless brow furrowed in perfectly practiced innocence. "Veda. Just look at your son." "I was only trying to make him understand how hard you work, and he throws a tantrum.

He's completely out of control—" I didn't let her finish. I lunged forward, grabbed a fistful of her expensive blowout, and dragged her head down.

My palm connected with her cheek in two brutal, earringing slaps. I hauled her dead weight toward the door and shoved her hard into the hallway.

I pointed a shaking finger right between her eyes. "Felicity.

You just couldn't resist poking the bear, could you?" She cupped her bright red cheek, her eyes wide with shock that I actually had the nerve to touch her.

The tears instantly flowed. "Veda," she choked out, her voice wobbling with fake victimhood. "I just wanted to help you. I didn't mean anything by it.

Roman didn't even want to bother with you, but he listens to me.

He knows I'm too softhearted to leave you out on the streets." "If I ignored you, I'd feel guilty." "I really wanted to help, but now you hit me.

Roman is going to be so furious with you…" A dead, hollow laugh slipped past my lips. I finally got it. She wasn't here out of pity. She was here to flex.

She was desperate to prove to me how much Roman loved her—how he loved her so much more than he ever loved me.

I stared at her pathetic, tearstained face. "Felicity," I said, my tone absolute ice. "You wanted Roman. He's just a man." "I giftwrapped him and gave him to you.

But that wasn't enough for your fragile little ego, was it?

You just had to come for me." I grabbed the collar of her designer blouse, yanking her close until she could feel my breath. "Keep pushing me," I whispered dangerously. "Keep pushing, and I will personally deliver my congratulations at your wedding." "And while I'm there, I'll let him know that the sick little boy in that room?

He's his. Take a guess. Do you think he'll still want you?" Felicity froze. I watched the color drain from her face until she was ghostly white.

I ground my teeth together. "Now." "You are going to walk back in there, apologize to my son, and get the hell out of my sight." The words had barely left my mouth when the hospital room door swung open.

Roman stepped into the hallway. His hand clamped around my arm like an iron shackle, forcefully ripping me away from Felicity. My heels slipped on the polished floor.

My spine slammed brutally against the concrete wall. He towered over me.

A cruel, mocking smirk twisted his lips. "Veda," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous rumble. "Since when do I need your permission on who I bring home as my wife?" "My wife is marrying me.

She doesn't need your charity." He stepped closer, suffocating the space between us. "Who the hell do you think you are?" Chapter 6 My spine hit the wall.

A muffled groan tore from my throat. Ezra must have heard the impact. He ran out of the room barefoot, throwing his tiny arms out to shield me.

He tilted his chin up, glaring daggers at Roman, daring him to take another step toward me. Roman stared down at the little boy.

A cold, cynical laugh slipped past his lips. "You're just as repulsive as your mother," he stated, his voice absolute ice.

I watched the edges of Ezra's eyes flood with a raw, stinging red. That single sentence had just shattered his entire world.

Stashed under his hospital pillow right now was a crumpled photograph of Roman. He had always known. He knew exactly who his father was.

During those endless, agonizing nights when the illness chewed at his little bones, he would fall asleep pressed against my chest.

He always dreamed that his daddy had finally come home. He would wake up whispering that his daddy missed him, that his daddy cried in secret too.

He'd tell me his daddy promised he would never leave again, that he wouldn't let Mommy work so hard anymore. But now, the dream was dead.

Ezra was finally standing facetoface with his father.

And all he got was: "You're just as repulsive as your mother." Roman only spared Ezra a single, dismissive glance before ripping his gaze away. The line of his jaw pulled tight.

He reached into the pocket of his bespoke black suit, pulled out a limitless black Amex, and aggressively shoved it straight down the neckline of my dress.

The plastic slid cold against my skin as his chest brushed mine. "Take it and save your son," he commanded, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "Swipe whatever the hell you want.

But don't ever let me catch you degrading yourself for cash again." "Stop stripping your dignity at those clubs.

And don't forget to thank my wife." Without another word, he wrapped his arm around Felicity and turned his back on us, walking away.

Ezra stared at Roman's retreating back. "Daddy…" The word slipped out, barely a breath. Then, he turned back to me.

He swallowed hard, trapping his tears behind his dark eyes. "Mommy," he whispered. "I don't want a daddy anymore." His tiny face was dead serious.

He looked like he had a million more things to say. Then, his chest seized. A violent, wet cough ripped through his throat. Deep red blood spewed from his mouth.

It splattered onto the linoleum floor. Across my shirt.

Over the crumpled photograph of Roman he was still clutching in his little fist… I watched in paralysis as his fragile body collapsed limply into my arms. "Mommy isn't dirty," he gasped, his voice bubbling with blood. "Mommy is clean.

It's my fault." "I ruined Mommy's shirt. Mommy… throw me away. Don't keep me anymore. Stop working so hard…" His voice faded to a terrifying whisper. His eyelids fluttered shut.

I screamed his name, the sound tearing my vocal cords raw. I hadn't even gotten the chance to tell him. What kind of mother throws her own child away? He was my flesh and blood.

I carried him. I bled for him. The hallway exploded into chaos. Nurses swarmed us, ripping his limp body from my arms and rushing him toward the crash room.

I forced oxygen into my screaming lungs, stumbling after them. I looked up. At the far end of the corridor, Roman was sprinting toward me. Tears were streaming freely down his face.

He grabbed my shoulders, his massive frame shaking violently. "Veda," he choked out, his voice utterly broken. "Did someone just call me Daddy?" Chapter 7