From Broken Fiancée To Corporate Queen

I walked into the hospital wing to find my fiancé, Derrick, holding his pregnant high-school sweetheart.

His plan was sickening: he would publicly claim her baby to save her from scandal, while our child, the one I was secretly carrying, would be hidden away-a shameful 'accident'.

He locked me in a damp guesthouse as his mother called me a whore and my unborn child a bastard.

But the true cost of his weakness came when she dragged me to a clinic and forced an abortion, killing my seven-month-old baby while Derrick was away caring for his other family.

Six months later, I returned.

Backed by a powerful new family, I walked into the Bradford Corporation's boardroom to face them all.

Derrick looked at me like he'd seen a ghost, not realizing I was there to take his entire empire.

I signed the papers that made me his boss and smiled for the cameras.

"The old Ava is dead," I whispered. "Long live the queen."

Chapter 1

Ava Clements POV:

Walking into the private hospital wing, I never expected to find my fiancé, Derrick Bradford, comforting his high-school sweetheart, Charlotte Sawyer, who was also visibly pregnant. The world tilted and blurred around me in that sterile hallway.

Charlotte, her face flushed, leaned into Derrick. His arm wrapped around her, a gesture of tenderness I hadn't seen in weeks. She giggled, a sound that felt like nails dragging across a chalkboard in my chest.

"He was so worried," Charlotte chirped, her voice too loud for the hushed environment. "Said he' d come straight here the moment I called. My little angel' s first kick, and he just had to be here."

Her hand, manicured and sparkling with rings, rested possessively on her swollen belly. Derrick' s hand hovered over hers, a silent affirmation.

My breath hitched. My own hand instinctively flew to my still-flat stomach. Our baby. Our secret joy. It twisted in my gut.

Derrick' s eyes, usually so warm and loving when they met mine, darted up. They locked onto mine across the polished hallway. His face drained of all color.

"Ava!" he gasped, his voice a strangled whisper.

He pushed away from Charlotte, scrambling to his feet. He moved fast, a blur of expensive fabric and panicked energy.

He reached me in three long strides, grabbing my arm. His grip was tight, almost painful.

"Derrick, let go," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

It trembled, fragile and broken. The shock had frozen my tears, but my lungs burned.

"Ava, please," he pleaded, his eyes wide and frantic. "It's not what you think. I can explain."

He pulled me further down the hallway, away from Charlotte.

"She... she's not carrying my child," he insisted, his words tumbling out. "I swear to you, Ava. This is a misunderstanding."

A single tear escaped, tracing a cold path down my cheek. My body felt heavy, disconnected.

"Please, Ava, don't cry," he begged, his voice cracking. "I love you. Only you. That baby isn't