
Awakened For Sin
Rebirth with a Twist.
Fawn Jones doesn't get a chance to resolve the issues with her marriage. No, she gets murdered in her own bathtub. Drowned by the husband she hated after he had moved his mistress into their bed, Fawn's last lucid thought is a promise before death. "I will not stay weak. I will make you pay. If not in this life, then the next." Then she wakes up. Different room. Different body. Different life. Cassandra Huntington – rich, infamous, beautiful in a way Fawn never had been. Cassie had been in a coma for six months after a car crash. Her billionaire husband, Blake, had just signed the paperwork to turn off her life support when she suddenly started breathing on her own. Now everyone thinks Fawn is Cassandra. The media calls it a miracle. Blake calls it complicated. The woman wearing his wife's face is softer, sharper, funnier... and so tempting he hates himself for wanting her. Fawn calls it an opportunity for revenge. Her killers are still out there. Her old body is in the ground under a lie. And the only weapons she has now are Cassandra's money, Cassandra's reputation... and Cassandra's husband. So, she plays the role. Learns to walk in six-inch heels. Smiles for the cameras. Seduces a man who once couldn't stand his wife and now can't seem to stay away from her. While she quietly buys into the company that ruined her old life. While she gets close enough to the man who killed her to watch him crack. They drowned the wrong woman. Now she's awake. And she's not done.
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Chapter 2
Blake’s POV
Tuesday 9:24 AM
The machine near the bed beeped too loudly for a room that was supposed to be quiet. Mainly because she was so still and silent.
I sat in the hard plastic chair by the bed, elbows on my knees, my suit jacket off and folded over the back of the chair. I had only planned to stay long enough to sign the paperwork and leave. That had been my plan, but I still hadn’t signed the paperwork.
It was like most days that I visited her. I hated having to come, but then I couldn’t make myself leave. But today was different… today was the last day. I would never have to come here again and sit by her bed in this room while she lay motionless.
I could hear the hum of the air-conditioning. Monitors blinked and beeped. But Cassie lay in the bed like a perfect wax version of herself, all sharp cheekbones and glossy black hair that didn't match the emptiness behind her closed eyes. I paid for someone to come in and clean her hair, give her a facial, and do her nails every week. Knowing she would hate letting it go or leaving it to the nurses. Hospital care wasn’t the same as being pampered, and Cassie had loved the pampering that only a beauty professional could give.
She didn’t make a sound and hadn’t since the car accident six months ago. I will never get the image of her crashing her car into that tree out of my head as long as I live. The sound of crashing metal and the birds scattering out of the tree in shock. It played over and over again in my mind. She had healed during the last six months; the bruises and broken bones had healed… just not her brain. That hadn’t changed. So here we were, my gorgeous wife looking her best even while in a coma.
She’d always liked being looked at. Worshipped and adored. Now the only ones looking at her were doctors assessing brain function and nurses adjusting her position. The current nurse in the room kept glancing at the clock, probably wondering when I was going to sign the damn papers so she could move on to her next patient. But I needed to be sure.
I turned away and stared at the clipboard in my hands. It was heavily stapled, heavily worded paperwork. But with all the wording, it all boiled down to one simple instruction: turn off the machines. Let my wife die. Cassie would be gone forever.
“And you’re sure there’s no… chance? No hope?” I asked, for the fourth time in twenty minutes. No, it was a lot more times than that, but it was four times since I had been here today.
The older doctor, grey hair and a face carved out of fatigue, shook his head. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Huntington has shown no neurological improvement. The scans confirm everything we expected. She’s been clinically brain-dead for six months, since the day of the accident. The only thing keeping her alive is the ventilator and supportive care. Without them, she would pass away. She can’t breathe on her own.”
Alive.
I almost laughed. Cassie would’ve hated the idea of being called “supportive care.” She liked being essential. Center of gravity and unavoidable. Everyone had strong feelings about Cassie; they either loved her or hated her. I thought I had loved her once. I knew now she had represented a challenge. She had been the woman every guy had wanted. I had been the one to win her over. Cassie wasn’t honest with anyone.
My jaw clenched. I’d spent the year before that fateful night gearing up to divorce her. I’d told her three weeks before. She had refused to sign the divorce paperwork. The car accident had done that part for me but also trapped me in this limbo. But that limbo was about to come to an end. All I had to do was sign. It should be easy. There was no love between us; she had told me she hated me just before the accident. If I was honest, I hated her too…had then and still did.
Cassie had been hell to live with. She’d lied, cheated, manipulated, stolen, and could be mean and nasty to everyone around her… and somehow it still felt wrong that I was the one to end it. Like I was finishing what fate had started, and that made me complicit. This was so Cassie. It was like she was having the last laugh. She was stopping me from moving on with my life while she still clung to hers.
The younger doctor shifted, clearly uncomfortable. The nurse kept her gaze politely fixed near the foot of the bed now.
“If you’re not ready—” the younger doctor began.
“I didn’t say that.” I cut in. My voice sounded flat, even to my own ears. “I just… want to be clear.”
Clear that I did everything right. Clear that I didn’t kill her. Clear that when I walk out of here, this doesn’t follow me into every minute, every hour of every day, and even every fucking night for the rest of my life. There was no one else; only I had the power to do this. As her legal husband, this fell on my shoulders.
I didn’t want to dream about this like I did about the crash.
I looked at Cassie. At the once-glossed lips that weren’t glossed anymore, just dry. At the long dark lashes that had once fluttered over crocodile tears. At the woman who had done her best to bleed me emotionally dry and almost succeeded. Cassie had been an energy vampire and sucked everyone around her dry and destroyed them. She loved no one, and I wasn’t even sure if she liked herself. It was like she had hit the self-destruct button on her life and wanted to create as much chaos as possible along the way. Not caring who got hurt.
“I hated you,” I thought, and the honesty of it tasted bitter. “But I didn’t want this for you.” I would have been happier if she lived, just not in my life.
I looked at the monitor by the bed as it beeped in slow, even intervals. Her chest rose and fell mechanically, the ventilator doing all the work. Once the machine was switched off, Cassie would stop breathing forever.
The older doctor held out a pen. “We can give you more time if you—”
“No.” I took it. My hand didn’t shake, but my throat felt tight. I lowered my gaze to the line where my name needed to go. “Let’s just… do this.” The longer I sat here, the harder it was going to be.
The pen hit the paper as I signed my name and dated it in the appointed location. I’d signed mergers, acquisitions, deals worth billions with less weight than this one signature. But this signature scarred my soul. If I was having this much trouble with a woman I didn’t love or even like anymore, how did people do it for people they did love?
“There,” I said, trying not to hear how rough the word came out. “You have what you need.” Handing the paperwork over.
The nurse stepped forward, hands gentle as she removed Cassie’s IV. The older doctor nodded to the younger doctor, some silent medical conversation passing between them. I wasn’t listening or watching them they were just there. It meant nothing to me now. She wasn’t coming back.
I stood. I couldn’t watch them disconnect her, but they had already started to remove the tube from her throat. I’d done my part; the rest I didn’t need to—
Once the tube was gone, Cassie’s body jerked.
I froze in place near the door. My eyes glued on Cassie.
At first, I thought it was nothing. Maybe a reflex. Surely. It must have been nerves firing. Bodies did strange things at the end; I’d seen enough death to know that. I’d lost both my grandparents to cancer. I was there as they had taken their last breath.
Then her chest heaved, not the machine forcing air, because that machine was no longer working. The tube already gone… but a raw, dragging inhale like someone breaking the surface of deep water filled the silence.
I knew something was wrong when the nurse yelped, stumbling back. The younger doctor grabbed the rail. The heart monitor screamed to life, the flat, steady rhythm crashing into a chaotic spike as lights flashed.
Cassie sat bolt upright.
Her eyes flew open, not dull and empty as they had been for the last six months, but blazing and wild. The icy blue glare locked onto my face. I felt frozen in place by that look.
“Jesus Christ,” the younger doctor breathed.
My heart slammed hard enough to hurt. What had I done?
I had signed papers to have her machines turned off when she wasn’t… gone.
Because my dead wife had just come back to life.
And the way she was staring at me…
You’d think I had been the one to put her in this hospital in the first place.
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8.9
My father was marrying a gold-digger, the mother of my cheating ex-boyfriend.
To end the charade, I crashed their luxury wedding with a ten-foot funeral wreath.
In front of hundreds of elites, my father slapped me across the face, calling me a vicious bitch while his new wife smiled in victory.
I triggered the estate's fire system to ruin them, but a terrifying stranger in the VIP section bypassed my military-grade hack in seconds.
He was Kavon Velasquez, a dangerous billionaire heir who had been missing for twelve years.
Instead of exposing me, he shielded me from my father's second blow.
When my pathetic ex tried to drag me away, I grabbed Kavon and kissed him to humiliate my ex.
I shoved a $500,000 check into Kavon's pocket as hush money and left.
I thought that was the end of it.
But why did this apex predator move into the penthouse right next to mine at 2 AM?
Why did he violently crush my ex's face the next morning just for grabbing my arm?
"She is my woman. If you ever come within ten feet of her again, I will bury you."
I didn't understand why a man with lethal skills was suddenly hunting me.
Then I found out he had just blackmailed my father with undeniable proof of corporate money laundering.
His demand wasn't money. It was me.
He ordered my father to announce our engagement by tomorrow sunset, and this dangerous game officially began.

9.6
Minutes before announcing her grand engagement, Darla caught her fiancé sleeping with her stepsister.
She publicly exposed them and canceled the wedding on the spot.
Furious, her adoptive mother demanded Darla marry a fifty-five-year-old predator to save their broken business deal.
"If you don't do exactly what I say, I'll let your father rot in prison for the rest of his life."
Desperate to escape her family's control, Darla grabbed a massive, intimidating hotel security guard she bumped into in the hallway.
She shoved all the cash in her purse at him—eight hundred dollars—and begged him to fake-marry her.
They signed the papers at City Hall that same day.
But the nightmare didn't end.
That evening, Darla received a cold phone call from the state penitentiary.
Her father had been found dead in his cell, and her company, owned by her ex-fiancé's family, fired her immediately.
They had taken everything from her, leaving her completely broken and sobbing on the floor of her tiny apartment.
She thought she had nothing left but a broke, fake husband to keep her company.
She had no idea that the "poor security guard" holding her in his arms was actually Anson Prince, a ruthless billionaire CEO.
And he was already making the calls to tear her abusers' empires to the ground.

8.9
At my million-dollar wedding to the Hoffman heir, the priest was interrupted by a ringing phone.
My groom, Elijah, didn't silence it. He answered it right at the altar, yanked his arm from my grasp, and walked out because his "true love" Jalyn needed him.
I was left standing alone in front of three hundred elite guests, blinded by mocking camera flashes. My own mother rolled her eyes in disgust, later threatening to freeze my trust fund and sell me to a notorious playboy to recoup her losses. Elijah even had the nerve to call me, demanding I take the blame for the canceled wedding to save his PR, while live news feeds showed him cradling a fragile Jalyn in the hospital.
I had spent two years bending over backward to be his perfect bride, only to be discarded like trash. What made it sicker was finding out that Jalyn's sudden "medical emergency" was actually a ruptured cyst caused by having vigorous sex with Elijah right before he walked down the aisle.
I refused to let them destroy me.
Kicking off my six-inch heels, I stepped down from the altar and walked straight to the back row where Cristian Lowe sat. He was the ruthless iceberg of Wall Street and Elijah's most terrifying rival.
I looked up at his sharp jawline and asked the craziest question of my life.
"Will you marry me?"
He stood up, his dark eyes locking onto mine.
"As you wish."

9.2
Lainey spent her last life destroying herself for Larry, only to become the woman he discarded most cruelly. He never loved her, never wanted her, and made no secret that his first love still owned his heart.
On their wedding day, he abandoned Lainey at the altar for that woman, then later used Lainey as nothing more than a stepping stone for his company's rise. In the end, he even had her kidney ripped from her.
Reborn at the very moment everything began, Lainey called off the wedding without hesitation. But after losing her, Larry begged desperately.
Lainey shot him a cold look, then turned and walked straight into the arms of a powerful, aloof man, who stared down at Larry with pure contempt. "She's my wife now."

7.5
I was tied to a concrete pillar in an abandoned warehouse, the heavy stench of gasoline suffocating me.
Ten steps away, a masked kidnapper slammed a loaded Glock onto a metal barrel and forced my husband, Alvie, to make a sick choice.
"The wife or the mistress. You only get to walk out of here with one."
Alvie didn't even blink.
He walked straight toward the dark corner where his mistress, Gail, was crying. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, shielding her, and guided her toward the exit.
He never looked back. He didn't cast a single glance over his shoulder. To him, I was already a corpse, just trash left on the pavement.
The kidnapper laughed and tossed a lighter onto the soaked concrete floor.
A wall of ghostly blue fire erupted instantly, swallowing me whole. The absolute agony of my skin blistering and melting shattered my sanity.
In my last moments, consumed by the inferno, I couldn't understand how the man I had loved and served so submissively could leave me to burn alive. My heartbreak quickly morphed into a hatred far deeper than the flames.
Then, I violently jerked awake.
I shot up from the bed, gasping for cold air, my hands frantically checking my perfectly smooth, unburned skin.
I looked at the desk clock. I had returned to exactly four years ago, the morning of the annual Gallagher family gathering.
The fragile, naive wife died in that warehouse. This time, I am going to destroy them both.

8.9
I was married to billionaire Alessandro Dorsey for four years. The only person in his cold, elite family who truly cared for me was his grandfather.
But when his grandfather suddenly passed away, my husband dragged me to the freshly dug grave and threw a newspaper in my face. The headline blamed me for his death.
Before I could process the grief, Alessandro forced me to my knees in front of dozens of flashing cameras.
"Admit your negligence, or you will never see the sun rise in this city again."
He threatened to destroy my own family if I didn't publicly apologize for a crime I didn't commit. Back at the estate, his mother falsely accused me of stealing a priceless family heirloom. I begged my husband to believe me, but he just looked at me with disgust, froze all my personal bank accounts, and handed me a divorce agreement. Sign it, forfeit everything, and erase my identity, or go to prison.
I was stripped of my dignity, my money, and the man I loved. I fled New York with nothing, only to discover I was pregnant with his triplets. For years, the injustice burned in my chest. How could the man who once meant safety throw me to the wolves without a second thought?
Five years later, I stepped back into the city with my three children. This time, I wasn't the broken woman he discarded, but a powerful gemologist ready to tear down his empire.