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Reborn: After 99 Divorces Novel Cover

Reborn: After 99 Divorces

I stood at the edge of the freezing pond on the Boone estate, my body trembling with a fear that rattled my bones. Across from me, Amanda Olsen looked immaculate in her cashmere coat, a sharp contrast to the jagged reality I was trying to hold together. "Why?" I whispered. Amanda just smiled, admitting she killed Grandpa Boone because he actually liked me. She pulled out a thick envelope-divorce papers Cordero had signed that morning. She told me he called me a parasite and was celebrating with her the night I suffered a miscarriage. Before I could even scream, Amanda lunged and shoved me into the icy water. My heavy wool coat acted like a sponge, dragging me into the artificial abyss. I thrashed and gasped for air, but Amanda just stood on the bank, watching me drown with her hands tucked casually in her pockets. As my lungs burned and the darkness closed in, I realized I had spent my entire marriage taking their abuse. I was the "foster trash" and the "gold digger" who let them win every single time. I was dying alone, hated by the husband I had tried so hard to love, while my murderer stood victorious on the shore. I never fought back. I just let them destroy me. Then, a violent spasm tore through my body. I sat up gasping, sucking in dry, air-conditioned oxygen instead of murky pond water. I wasn't dead. I was back in the opulent master suite, surrounded by red rose petals and wedding decorations. The digital clock glowed: October 14, 2019. I had gone back five years to the very night my nightmare began. The bathroom door clicked open, and Cordero stepped out, looking at me with the same cold disgust I remembered. But as I gripped the silk sheets, a new resolve hardened in my chest. This time, I wasn't going to be the victim. This time, the Boone family was going to find out exactly what happens when you push someone too far.
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Chapter 5

The silence stretched, thin and brittle. The only sound was the clinking of silver against china as Henderson placed the coffee in front of Elaina.

Amanda cleared her throat. The sound was too loud. She needed to regain control. She clapped her hands together lightly.

"Well! Since it's the first morning, I thought we should keep the Boone tradition alive," Amanda chirped. She signaled to a maid. "I had the kitchen prepare the celebratory mimosas and the fertility pastries."

A maid brought a tray. On it was a plate of small, intricate pastries and three crystal flutes of champagne.

"Just a sip for luck!" Amanda said, beaming. She reached for a glass and slid it across the polished wood toward Elaina. "To the happy couple."

Elaina stared at the glass. The bubbles rose in a mesmerizing dance.

Déjà vu.

She remembered this. In the last life, she had downed the glass because she was nervous and wanted to please Amanda. Twenty minutes later, she had become hysterical, crying and laughing uncontrollably at the table. She had thrown a plate. Cordero had looked at her like she was insane and left the house for three days.

It wasn't alcohol. It was a cocktail of psychotropics.

Elaina didn't touch the glass. She looked at Amanda. "I'm not drinking this morning, Amanda."

Amanda's smile faltered. "Oh, come on. It's tradition! Don't be a spoilsport. Cordero hates a spoilsport." She looked at Cordero for backup.

Cordero didn't look at Amanda. He was still watching Elaina, his brow furrowed.

"Actually," Amanda said, her voice taking on a nervous edge. She reached into the sleeve of her cardigan. "I have... I have some vitamins too. I take them every morning. Maybe you need one? You look pale."

It was a clumsy move. Desperate. Amanda was trying to retrieve the second part of the dose she usually slipped in.

Amanda's hand shook. A small, amber plastic bottle slipped from her cuff.

It hit the table with a loud thwack. It rolled.

It rolled right across the mahogany surface, spinning past the floral centerpiece, and came to a stop directly in front of Cordero's newspaper.

Time stopped.

Amanda gasped. She lunged forward, trying to grab it. "Oops! My clumsy hands-"

Elaina was faster. Her hand shot out and clamped over the bottle before Amanda could touch it.

"What's this?" Elaina asked. Her voice was innocent, curious.

"It's just... calcium!" Amanda stammered. Her face was draining of color. "Give it to me."

Cordero looked at the bottle under Elaina's hand. He looked at Amanda's panicked face.

"Calcium?" Elaina tilted her head. She picked up the bottle. There was no label. "Funny. Calcium pills are usually huge. These look like... micro-dots."

She made a show of trying to unscrew the cap. "Should we put one in the champagne? If it's just vitamins, it won't hurt, right?"

"No!" Amanda shrieked. She stood up so fast her chair tipped over backward with a crash. Coffee sloshed onto the tablecloth.

Cordero stood up. His movement was fluid and menacing. He reached out and plucked the bottle from Elaina's fingers.

He held it up to the light. He rattled it.

"I know what this is," Cordero said. His voice was terrifyingly quiet. "We found this on a guest at the club last week. It's a hallucinogen. 'Blue Haze'."

He turned his gaze to Amanda. It was colder than the pond water.

"Why do you have illegal narcotics at my breakfast table, Amanda?"

"I... I don't..." Amanda was hyperventilating. "Someone must have put it in my coat! I didn't know!"

Elaina took a sip of her black coffee. It was bitter and hot. It tasted like victory.

"Strange place to keep vitamins," Elaina mused aloud. "In your sleeve. Like a magician."

Cordero looked from the bottle to Amanda, then to the untouched glass of champagne in front of Elaina. The realization hit him. His jaw tightened until a muscle feathering in his cheek jumped.

He didn't yell. He didn't explode. That wasn't the Boone way.

He dropped the bottle into his pocket.

"Get out," he said to Amanda.

"Cordero, please-"

"Get out of my house."

Amanda looked at him, then shot a look of pure, unadulterated venom at Elaina. She grabbed her purse and ran out of the room. The sound of her sobbing echoed in the hallway.

Cordero stood there for a moment. He looked at the champagne glass. He picked it up and poured the contents into the potted fern behind him.

Then he looked at Elaina. There was no apology in his eyes-he wasn't ready for that. But the disgust was gone. Replaced by a sharp, probing suspicion.

"I'm going to the office," he said.

He turned and walked away.

Elaina watched him go. She set her coffee cup down. Her hand was trembling slightly now that the adrenaline was fading.

She had won the first round.

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