Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: My Life Without You

My engagement party, the culmination of five years poured into Ethan Cartwright and our future, was supposed to be my fairy tale.

But hiding on the terrace, his voice, cold and dismissive, echoed through the night: "Sarah? She's perfect.

Adorably naive, utterly devoted.

She won't rock the boat.

Won't challenge me.

And she certainly won't interfere with Isabelle."

The words hit like stones, shattering my world and sending me tumbling into darkness.

I woke up with amnesia, the doctor explaining recent memories were gone – Ethan's name meant nothing.