The Billionaire Who Called Me Boring

He was the billionaire who called me "boring" and paid me to disappear. Three years later, Gage Schwartz came back begging, promising me the world he'd denied me for seven years. I took him back, and soon, I was pregnant with his twins.

Then I heard the voicemail of him and his ex-wife, Brylee, laughing about how I was just a "comfortable placeholder."

The shock caused me to miscarry. When I tried to leave, he launched a smear campaign, painting me as insane to the world. Then he locked me in our penthouse.

He thought he could break me.

So I faked a complete mental breakdown, escaped into a blizzard, and vanished. I built a new life, found real love, and became the artist I was always meant to be.

But now, he's standing in my studio.

And he wants me back.

Chapter 1

Carlie Bean POV:

The memory of his voice, cold as a New York winter, telling me I was "boring," still ripped through me, even three years later.

It was the final nail in the coffin of the seven years I' d wasted, seven years of loving Gage Schwartz in the shadows.

He'd paid me off, a hefty sum meant to erase me from his life, to make space for his arranged marriage with Brylee Wagner.

I took the money, not because I wanted it, but because it was the only way out, the only way to pretend I had some control over my own humiliating exit.

Then I vanished.

New York City, with all its glittering promises and crushing realities, was behind me.

Three years passed, a blur of rebuilding, of learning to breathe again without the constant, suffocating pressure of being Gage Schwartz's secret.

Then he reappeared, a ghost from a past I had meticulously buried.

Gage, the billionaire who once dismissed me, now stood before me, divorced, looking utterly broken.

He begged me to return, his eyes wide with a desperate plea I had once longed to see.

He promised me the world, not just wealth, but a lavish wedding, a life in the sun.

He said he regretted everything, that Brylee was a mistake, a volatile passion that had burned itself out.

He swore he had changed, that he understood now what he had lost.

I wanted to believe him.

Part of me, the naive, hopeful part that had never quite died, desperately wanted to believe that the man I once loved was truly back.

So, I let myself hope.

I let him shower me with every luxury, every grand gesture he had withheld for so long.

The wedding was magnificent, a spectacle worthy of a king and his queen, or rather, a billionaire and the woman he had finally chosen to put on display.

Everything felt perfect, almost too perfect, like a dream I was terrified to wake from.

Then came the twins, a double blessing, a symbol of our new beginning, our future.

I was pregnant, glowing, filled with a joy I thought I'd never experience again.

I was finally happy, truly happy, for the first time in forever.

One evening, I found myself alone in his study, a room I rarely entered, but needed a quiet place to organize some baby things.

A faint buzz from Gage' s phone on his desk caught my attention.

It wasn' t a text, but a notification for an old voicemail, something I hadn't realized he still used.

Curiosity, a dangerous thing, tugged at me.

I picked it up, my fingers brushing against the cold metal.

The voicemail was from Brylee.

Her voice, syrupy sweet, then sharp as a broken glass, filled the silent room.

"Gage, darling, I know you're busy playing house with… what's her name? Carlie?

But don't forget our little arrangement.

Our nights, those secret fires we ignite, they mean more than her quiet little life ever could.

Remember what you said about her, how she's just… comfortable?

A placeholder until the real fun begins again?"

My breath hitched, a strangled sound caught in my throat.

Then I heard Gage's voice, not from a dream, but from the recording.

His laugh, a low rumble, followed by a whispered, "You always know how to make me feel alive, Brylee.

She just… she keeps things stable.

But you, you're the thrill, the passion I can't live without."

The words sliced through me, colder and sharper than any blade.

My hand trembled, the phone slipping, but I caught it, my grip tight, desperate.

I heard the rustle of sheets, Brylee's sultry moan, and then Gage's voice again, thick with desire.

"God, Brylee, you drive me wild. No one else can touch me like this."

The world tilted.

My stomach churned, a sudden, violent wave of nausea washing over me.

My vision blurred, spots dancing before my eyes.

It wasn't just the morning sickness.

It was the sickness in my soul.

The betrayal, raw and excruciating, ripped through me, tearing apart the fragile peace I had built.

I squeezed my eyes shut, a futile attempt to block out the sounds, the images.

But they were seared into my mind, a branding iron of deceit.

Every kind word, every tender touch, every grand gesture from Gage now felt like a lie, a performance.

He had promised me forever, a fresh start, unconditional love.

He had promised to protect me, to cherish me.

But he was still playing the same old games, with the same old woman.

My past, his present, his future.

My future, shattered, again.

My hands flew to my belly, protecting the tiny lives growing within me.

Twins. His children.

And he was still with her.

The rage, cold and quiet, began to simmer beneath the surface of my despair.

He thought I was boring?

He thought I was just "comfortable"?

He thought he could have his cake and eat it too?

He was wrong.

I wouldn't be comfortable anymore.

I wouldn't be a secret.

And I wouldn't be his.