Pregnant and Abandoned: My Billionaire Ex Regretted Leaving When the Lawsuit Revealed the Truth

The limousine ride back from the motel was silent, but for the first time in months, the silence didn’t scream. Sarah watched the city blur past, the neon lights reflecting against the rain-streaked glass. She wasn’t looking at the past anymore. She was looking at the skyline she now owned a piece of.

By the time she reached her new penthouse office, Marcus was already there, pouring two glasses of amber liquid. He looked different outside the courtroom—less armored, though his eyes still held that predatory sharpness that had terrified Julian’s legal team.

"The deed to the old Blackwood headquarters is on your desk," Marcus said, sliding a thick leather folder across the mahogany surface. "And the incorporation papers for the Jenkins Foundation. It’s official. You have the infrastructure to help thousands of women who were just like you."

Sarah ran her fingers over the embossed seal. It felt heavy. Real. A few months ago, she couldn't afford a bottle of prenatal vitamins. Now, she was signing off on an endowment that eclipsed the GDP of small countries.

"And your bill," Sarah said, her voice steady. She pulled a check from her purse. She had written it out by hand, needing to feel the ink flow, needing to see the zeros line up.

Marcus took the slip of paper. He glanced at it, and for the first time since she’d met him, the Shark looked stunned. His brows knitted together, a flush rising from his collar.

"Sarah," he said, his voice dropping an octave. "This is incorrect. The retainer agreement was for thirty percent of the settlement. This is... significantly more."

"It's double," she corrected, taking the glass he offered. "Consider it a bonus for the emotional distress of dealing with Julian’s ego."

"I can't accept this. It's unethical. It's—"

"You saved my son's life, Marcus. You didn't just win a lawsuit. You pulled me out of the gutter when the rest of the world was busy kicking dirt in my face."

He stared at her, the check trembling slightly in his scarred hand. Slowly, he folded it and placed it in his breast pocket, close to his heart.

"Case closed, then," he murmured. The air in the room shifted. Useful, professional tension dissolved, replaced by something warmer, more dangerous, and infinitely more terrifying.

He walked around the desk. He didn't stop until he was standing just inside her personal space. The smell of rain, expensive scotch, and old leather filled her senses.

"Since the litigation is finalized," Marcus said, his steel-gray eyes locking onto hers, "I am no longer your attorney. Which means I’m no longer bound by critical conflict-of-interest bylaws."

Sarah’s breath hitched. "Is that a legal opinion, Mr. Wolf?"

"t's a fact," he whispered, leaning in. "Which means I can finally ask you to dinner. Not to discuss strategy. Not to ruin your ex-husband. Just... dinner."