My Ex-Husband's Billion-Dollar Regret

The last thing I remember is my fiancé, Cayden, toasting to our future. The first thing I hear when I wake up in a hospital is him telling the city's most feared Don to pretend to be my fiancé instead.

A doctor says I have severe neurological damage. Amnesia.

Then, my best friend, Vivian—the girl I considered a sister—walks in. Her hand is linked through Cayden's arm, her head resting on his shoulder. They look like a perfect, loving couple.

I hear Cayden's frantic voice in the hallway, not even bothering to whisper. "Please, Liam," he begs the Don, Liam Hewitt. "Just do me this one favor. I need a break from all her marriage talk."

Then his voice turns slick with temptation. "As her 'fiancé,' you can finally get her to sign the demolition agreement for the Owen manor. She'll do anything you ask."

My heart turns to a pile of cold, dead ash. The man I loved and the woman I trusted didn't just betray me. They tried to erase me.

When they all step back into my room, I steady myself. I look past Cayden, past Vivian, and fix my eyes on the most dangerous man in the city.

A faint smile touches my lips. "Only you feel familiar," I say to Liam Hewitt, my voice a soft, broken thing.

"Fiancé," I say, the word tasting like poison and opportunity. "I'm sorry, I seem to have forgotten your name. Take me home."

Chapter 1

Julia Owen POV:

The last thing I remember is my fiancé, Cayden, toasting to our future. The first thing I hear when I wake up is him telling the city's most feared Don to pretend to be my fiancé instead.

My eyelids feel like they're glued shut. A low, clinical hum fills the space around me, and the air smells sterile, sharp.

"...possibility of severe neurological damage," a calm, detached voice says. A doctor.

I force my eyes open. The light is a dull, milky white. A doctor stands at the foot of my bed, his face grim. He's talking to Cayden.

My Cayden.

A wave of relief washes over me, so strong it almost makes me dizzy. He's here.

I try to sit up, but my head feels like it's full of wet sand. A soft groan escapes my lips.

Cayden's head snaps toward me. His eyes, usually so full of easy charm, are wide with something I can't place. Not concern. Something else.

"Julia," he breathes.

I give him a weak, playful smile. The party. My birthday. The champagne tasted funny. "Where am I?" I ask, my voice raspy. I try to inject a little humor into it, to tease him. "And who am I?"

His face freezes. He doesn't laugh. He doesn't rush to my side and call me his dearest Julia.

He just stares, his eyes darting from my face to the doctor and back again. The hesitation lasts only a second, but it feels like an eternity.

Then