The Billionaire's One That Got Away

I was the billionaire's "one that got away," the girl he supposedly never stopped loving. But as I lay dying in a foreign hospital, desperate to fly home for a life-saving surgery, my own brother did everything in his power to stop me. He was convinced that if I returned, the billionaire would dump his current fiancée—my brother's precious step-sister. My brother was the ultimate simp for the "replacement." "If you're sick, suck it up. It’s not an emergency," he told me cold-heartedly. "Just wait a few days for the surgery. You won't die. They're getting married this weekend, and I won't let you ruin it." To survive, I swallowed my pride and called the billionaire myself. "I heard I'm the love of your life. Can you bring me home?" I didn't know he was standing at the altar when his phone rang. He left his bride and the guests stunned, boarded a private jet, and flew through the night just to get to me. 1 The hospital room was sterile and white. Other patients had families hovering over them with flowers and soup, but I lay alone, hooked up to machines that beeped in a lonely rhythm. My brother, Ethan’s voice was icy through the phone speaker. "Funny how you get 'deathly ill' right when Chloe and Julian are about to tie the knot." "You really haven't changed, Ava. You're a pathological liar. Did you think I'd actually buy this?" "Let me be clear: stop the drama. Threatening suicide or faking an illness won't work on me anymore. Even if you are dying, hold it in. Wait until the wedding is over." I lay there, weak and trembling, tears streaming down my face. My heart felt like it was encased in ice. "Ethan, I'm not acting. Please... just let me come home." "The doctors here said Dr. Foster at Hopkins is the only one with enough experience for this surgery. He's the only chance I have." "I can't wait anymore. Ask my doctor. He's right here." I hit the speaker button, begging my attending physician to back me up. The doctor explained in urgent, professional English that I wasn't lying. I was critical. I needed to be transferred immediately. Ethan didn't flinch. "A few days won't kill her. The wedding is in two days. She can wait." My doctor lost his cool. He grabbed the phone. "What kind of brother are you? She is dying! If she waits any longer, she'll miss the surgical window. Even Dr. Foster won't be able to save her then. Don't come crying when she's dead!" Ethan laughed, a cold, cruel sound. "I won't regret anything. You doctors should be ashamed, playing along with her little skits. If missing a flight by two days kills her, then so be it. If she's going to cause this much trouble, maybe she shouldn't come back at all." I clutched the fabric over my chest, the pain unbearable. He really didn't believe me. "Ethan, what will it take? Will you only believe me when you're picking up my ashes at the airport?" My voice was raspy, broken. For a second, there was silence on the other end. Maybe he felt a pang of guilt. Then, my father’s voice cut in. "Is that Ava? What’s her problem now?" "She says she's dying and needs surgery in the States." My dad scoffed. "Since when is American healthcare better than what she can get in Switzerland? She just wants to wreck Chloe’s wedding. She couldn't even come up with a better lie." "Ethan, Chloe might be your step-sister, but she's still family. You can't play favorites. We can't have any drama right now. You know how much chaos it would cause if Julian's 'first love' showed up." Ethan's hesitation vanished. "I know, Dad. Forget it. Let her throw her tantrum." Click. The line went dead. The busy signal felt like a slap in the face. It hurt. It hurt so much I couldn't breathe. The brother who used to carry me on his shoulders, who promised to protect me from the world... he was gone. He was nothing more than Chloe's lapdog now. He was still the protective big brother, just not for me. Did I really have to die for them to care? But what was the point? I didn't want to be the tragic heroine in a sob story. I didn't want their cheap tears at my funeral. I wanted to live. 2 Over the next few days, I contacted every specialist in Europe. I sent them my scans. They all shook their heads. "It's too complex. Dr. Foster in Baltimore is the authority on this. He's the only one who has successfully performed this procedure." "He's the best hands in the world for this." I emailed Dr. Foster, begging him to fly to me. He replied quickly: [I'm sorry, due to a pending legal matter, I cannot leave the country. Your condition is critical. You need to come to Hopkins immediately. I can clear my schedule for you.] But I couldn't leave. My passport was "held for safekeeping" by my security team—guards hired by my father, but loyal to Chloe. I heard Ethan call them to check on me. "Is she really sick?" The guard, standing outside my door, lied through his teeth. "No, sir. She's fine." My doctor was frantic. "Ava, you have to go. I've coordinated with Dr. Foster. An ambulance will be waiting on the tarmac." I closed my eyes, tears leaking out. "Do you think I don't want to go?" Desperate, the doctor suggested a Hail Mary. "Call Julian Blackwood. Everyone says you're the one that got away, right? If the billionaire ex wants you back, he can get you back. You're just crossing an ocean, not flying to Mars." But Julian didn't love me. I was the one who chased him for years. The whole "white moonlight" narrative—the idea that I was his pure, untouchable first love—was a rumor I couldn't squash. "If he really wanted me," I whispered, "he wouldn't be marrying a copy of me." The doctor snatched my phone. "We're calling him. What's the number?" I rattled it off, but my heart was hollow. I didn't expect a miracle. 3 "Hello, is this Julian Blackwood? I'm calling about Ava. She's your... well, she's supposed to be important to you. Her family is blocking her from returning to the US because they think you'll dump your fiancée for her." Julian’s laugh was cold. "She thinks highly of herself. As far as I'm concerned, she died the day she left the country." I choked back a sob. His words were a physical blow. I shook my head at the doctor. "Hang up. I don't want to be humiliated anymore." But the doctor was furious. He yelled into the phone. "What if she's actually dying?" Julian paused. "What do you mean?" "Literally dying. She has a rare condition. No one here will touch it. She needs Dr. Foster in Baltimore or she's dead. Her brother won't let her fly. If you don't care about her, fine, but tell her brother that so she can come home and not die alone in a foreign country!" Suddenly, Chloe’s voice drifted through the phone, sweet and cloying. "Julian, who are you talking to? The priest is waiting. He asked if you take me to be your wife." "Everyone is watching, babe. Can the call wait until after the ceremony?" I froze. The Wedding March was playing in the background. Of course. That's why Ethan said to wait a few days. They were at the altar right now. Me calling him now... it looked exactly like I was trying to crash the wedding. The priest spoke up again. "Julian Blackwood, do you take Chloe to be your lawfully wedded wife? For richer or poorer, in sickness and in health?" I snatched the phone back and hit end. I didn't want to hear him say "I do." 4 That night, my fever spiked. I drifted in and out of nightmares. In my dreams, my family was whole again. Dad loved me. Ethan protected me. But then Chloe and her mother arrived. After my mom died, Dad swore he'd never remarry. But then he met her. A woman who looked exactly like my mother did twenty years ago. And Chloe... she looked more like my mother than I did. Dad fell for the "replacement" hard. Even Ethan said, "Just pretend she's Mom. Pretend Chloe is another sister." No! How could I? That woman wore my mother's face and slept in my mother's bed. She wore the wedding ring my dad gave my mom. I screamed, I cried, I tried to kick them out. And for that, I became the villain. The brat. My phone ringing jerked me awake. It was Ethan. Maybe Julian said "I do" and now I was allowed to come home? I answered, weak but hopeful. Ethan was screaming. "Are you happy now, you toxic witch? Did you have to push Chloe this far?" "You have me and Dad! What does Chloe have?" "She's insecure! She accepted being a replacement just to be loved! Why did you have to ruin her day?" "Do you know what you did? Julian walked out! He left her at the altar because of your phone call! He humiliated her in front of the entire city!" "Chloe is the laughingstock of New York. She tried to jump off the roof! Are you satisfied?" "If she dies, her blood is on your hands!" I coughed, blood splattering onto the sheets. The monitor by my bed started screaming an alarm. "Ethan," I gasped, "ask yourself... do I really have you and Dad?" "Who gets loved so much that they're left to die in a foreign country?" "You care that Chloe is sad. Do you care that I'm dying alone?" "I regret ever loving you as a brother. You don't have a heart." Nurses rushed in. "Code Blue! BP is crashing! Get the crash cart!" Ethan heard the chaos. His voice wavered. "Stop it. Is this another act?" "Ava, talk to me! Stop scaring me!" "Put the guard on! I want proof!" It was laughable. I was dying, and he wanted proof. But then... wait. Did he say Julian walked out? In the background of Ethan's call, I heard his assistant. "Sir, Julian is on a jet. He broke through airport security. He beat up half a dozen guards to get to the tarmac. He's coming for her." "Also... Julian never planned to marry Chloe. He was going to expose something at the wedding. He was planning to destroy her." Destroy her? My vision was fading. The darkness was creeping in from the edges. Was Julian really coming? It felt too late.

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