Reborn At The Altar: Reject My Cruel Groom, Marry A Mysterious Tycoon
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."
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Chapter 3
The warmth in Lainey's eyes disappeared the instant she stepped out of the hotel, replaced by a cutting, icy resolve.
Bryan's matter had been settled. Now, it was time for her to return to the Miller residence and reclaim everything that should have been hers in the first place.
The moment she entered the Millers', her gaze landed on a middle-aged woman sitting stiffly on the sofa. She was dressed with elegance, her makeup flawless, yet her expression burned with barely restrained fury.
It was Larry's mother, Rita Miller.
As soon as Rita saw Lainey walk in, her face tightened, her brows knitting together.
There had been too many people at the wedding earlier, making it inconvenient for her to cause a scene. But now that Lainey had returned, Rita clearly had no intention of letting things slide.
She rose abruptly and strode toward Lainey, her voice slicing through the air with accusation. "Have you completely lost your senses? So my son asked Charlee to be your bridesmaid. Was that any reason to throw such a tantrum? You've disgraced my entire family!"
Lainey gave a cold, sarcastic laugh. "Let me ask you this—if your fiancé showed up with his first love, dressed better than you, and said she'd be your bridesmaid... could you tolerate that?"
As soon as she said it, a sharp ache tore through her chest, spreading until even breathing felt difficult.
Her eyes flushed red, her voice trembling with suppressed hurt. "You keep saying I humiliated your family, but has Larry ever treated me with even the slightest respect? When he lacked funding, I drank until I was sick just to secure investors for him. When he had no connections, I handed over every resource I had. When someone came at him with a knife, I stepped in front and took the hit myself. And after everything, he brought his first love to our wedding and insisted she be my bridesmaid. Rita, I'm not the one who brought shame to the Miller name. Your family failed me."
She met Rita's gaze directly, her eyes filled with undisguised hatred.
For a brief moment, that look unsettled Rita.
But the hesitation lasted only a second before anger and humiliation surged back. She raised her hand high, her voice turning shrill with fury. "You bitch! How dare you badmouth my son? I must teach you a lesson right now!"
Her hand came swinging down toward Lainey's face. But Lainey's eyes turned steely. She intercepted the blow midair, gripping Rita's wrist firmly before striking her across the face with equal force.
The crack echoed loudly through the room.
Rita's cheek swelled almost at once.
However, before she could even cry out, a man's cold, impatient voice cut through the tension. "Have you had enough?"
Larry stepped inside, his face clouded with irritation. "I know you were unhappy about Charlee being chosen as your bridesmaid. Fine, next time she won't be. If you apologize to my mother right now, I might still accept you as my wife."
Then Charlee spoke, her voice soft and fragile, almost trembling. "Lainey, no matter what happened, she's still Larry's mother."
Lainey walked straight toward her, each step steady, her gaze sharp as it settled on Charlee's pale, delicate features. "Charlee, do you feel no shame at all?"
Charlee pressed a hand to her chest, as if deeply wounded by the accusation. "How can you say something like that to me? I already feel terrible. Larry... maybe I really am someone people can't stand. I don't see the point in living anymore..."
Larry immediately pulled her into his arms, his face filled with concern. When he looked back at Lainey, anger flared in his eyes. "Charlee just gave up on the idea of ending her life. How could you say something like that to her? If she—"
He stopped mid-sentence when he saw Lainey turn and walk into the kitchen. Moments later, she reappeared, a knife gripped firmly in her hand.
The instant Charlee's eyes fell on the blade, the color drained from her face, and her knees nearly buckled beneath her. "Larry..."
Larry reacted at once, stepping forward to shield her. "I'm telling you now, Lainey... don't even think about laying a finger on her."
Lainey's gaze dipped, the storm in her eyes carefully concealed as she pressed it down, replacing it with a chilling smile.
"Relax, Miss Foster. There's no need to panic. I'm not here to harm you. Consider this a wedding gift. Since you're so fond of threatening to end your life, I thought I'd save you the trouble. With this, you won't need to rely on sleeping pills anymore. One quick move, and it'll all be over in an instant."
With a sharp motion, she drove the knife down onto the tabletop.
The sudden impact made Charlee's last bit of strength give out entirely, and she crumpled onto the floor.
Lainey didn't spare them another glance. She turned away as if none of it concerned her and walked into the bedroom she had once occupied in the Miller household. There, she gathered everything that belonged to her, along with the keepsakes her grandmother had left behind, packed them up, and stepped out again.
She had just reached the door when Rita's piercing voice rang out from behind her. "Stop right there! What exactly do you think you're taking with you? Do those things even belong to you?"
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7.6
Kaylee's family was drowning in debt, and her stepmother locked her inside a freezing bedroom.
To save their bankrupt company, they decided to sell her off to a sixty-five-year-old man with a disgusting reputation.
They cut off her allowance and confiscated the only precious keepsake her dead mother had ever left her.
"Put on the engagement dress, or I will smash your mother's crystal box into a million pieces."
Terrified of the old man, Kaylee risked her life by jumping out of the second-story window into a violent storm.
She hit the muddy ground hard, twisting her ankle and tearing her skin on rusted iron gates as she escaped into the pitch-black night.
Dragging her bleeding bare feet across the cold sand, her lungs felt like they were filled with broken glass.
She didn't understand why she had to be the sacrifice for their endless greed, or how they could be so cruel as to hold her dead mother's memory hostage.
She had absolutely nowhere to go, and the old man's cars were already pulling into the estate to claim her.
Cornered by the blinding headlights of a motorcade on the beach, she threw herself at the feet of Ernest Blackwell, the most ruthless billionaire in New York.
"Marry me! You need a wife, and I need a husband right now!"
To buy her freedom and crush the family that sold her, she chose to sign a twenty-million-dollar fake marriage contract with the devil himself.
8.7
For three years, I played the perfect, submissive housewife to billionaire Julian Harrison.
But right after an intimate night together, he coldly threw a divorce agreement onto the bed.
"Scarlett landed an hour ago. I need my single status restored to welcome her back."
That same night, I ended up in the emergency room and discovered I was pregnant with twins.
When Julian found out, he didn't show a shred of joy. Instead, he stormed into my hospital room, threw a blank check directly at my face, and ordered me to get rid of them.
He accused me of using the babies as a sick game to trap his assets.
Then, his ruthless lawyer kicked me out of our penthouse, confiscating the jewelry he gifted me and tossing my worn-out notebook onto the floor like garbage.
Standing in the freezing rain, my heart completely died.
I had swallowed my pride, managed his life, and cooked his meals to his exact standards for three years, only to be thrown away the second his first love returned.
But he didn't know that the notebook his lawyer discarded contained the secret formulas of Aura Beauty, a billion-dollar empire I built in the shadows.
I tore his check into pieces, blocked his number, and left in a Maybach sent by my associate.
Logging into my global CEO database, I looked at his company's fragile stock chart with a predatory smile.
The docile Mrs. Harrison died in the rain. It was time to crush his empire.
9.3
Elliana sat on the cold marble floor, staring at the two pink lines on the pregnancy test. Overjoyed, she went to her husband Garrett’s study to surprise him.
But the room was empty. On his iPad, she accidentally opened a muted security video from the night before. As a graphic novelist trained in facial anatomy, she easily read Garrett’s lips as he spoke to their housekeeper.
"Increase the hallucinogens and the birth control. Let her become a complete lunatic."
The truth shattered her reality. Her three years of inexplicable exhaustion and mental collapses were orchestrated to keep her away from her ex-fiancé, who was now married to Garrett’s sister, Cristina. The nightmare worsened during a horrific highway crash. As their SUV flipped and caught fire, Garrett ruthlessly abandoned a pregnant Elliana in the crushed backseat. He dragged Cristina to safety, leaving Elliana to burn. She survived, but her right hand—her drawing hand—was permanently destroyed.
Lying in the hospital with her career ruined and her intellectual property stolen by the husband who forged her signature while she was drugged, a freezing void of hatred consumed her. She was nothing but a sedated decoy to hide Garrett's twisted, incestuous obsession with his own sister.
When Garrett knelt by her hospital bed with fake tears, Elliana didn't scream or expose him. Instead, she forced a pathetic, dependent smile, playing the perfect broken wife. She was going back to his penthouse to steal his encrypted files, ready to feed him to Manhattan's most cutthroat divorce lawyer and watch his empire burn.
8.6
For years, Elvera lived as the despised charity case in the cramped Wright household.
When she caught her foster sister Donita straddling her fiancé, they didn't even panic. Instead, they loudly framed Elvera for stealing a diamond necklace to justify kicking her out.
Her foster parents immediately sided with the cheaters, screaming at her to pack her trash and starve in the gutters. Only her dying foster brother tried to sneak her his medical savings, but the family violently shoved him away, mocking him as a walking corpse.
Standing in the freezing Brooklyn wind, Donita and Crockett followed her outside just to laugh. They waved a crisp twenty-dollar bill in her face, mocking her biological family as a bunch of unemployed street thugs.
They really thought she was going to freeze to death on the pavement with nothing but a faded backpack.
But then a roaring, matte-black supercar pulled up.
The man who stepped out wasn't a street thug; he was her real brother, an FBI task force commander.
He effortlessly snapped Crockett's shoulder out of its socket, put Elvera in the passenger seat, and drove her straight to a sprawling billionaire estate in the Hamptons.
Sitting by the fire in her biological parents' palace, watching them casually display an eight-million-dollar sculpture she had secretly designed, the head butler suddenly walked in.
"Sir, the fake heiress has returned from Europe."
Elvera took a slow sip of her coffee. The real game was finally about to begin.
8.7
I was pregnant with the future heir of the Blackwood Pack, but my fated mate, Alpha Gavin, was nowhere to be found when sharp, tearing agony ripped through my swollen belly.
Instead of rushing to my side, he was in a luxury penthouse with his mistress, Piper.
When I desperately called his human number for help, it was Piper who answered the phone.
"I'm Piper. His future Luna."
Minutes later, I received a leaked audio file of Gavin promising to formally reject me the moment our pup was born.
Before the heartbreak could even set in, my armored SUV was violently rammed off the road by a massive truck.
It wasn't an accident. It was a targeted hit paid for by Piper's pack.
I woke up in the clinic with an empty womb. My pup was dead.
Gavin didn't even show up. He just mind-linked the butler to say he was "too busy" to deal with my loss.
He let his mistress murder our child and treated me like disposable trash, assuming my grief would make me a weak, compliant victim.
He thought he could just bury my trauma and move on with his perfect new life.
He was wrong.
I faked my own death in a fiery crash, leaving him with nothing but my signed rejection papers and the bloody receipt proving his mistress hired the killers.
Now, armed with a new identity and untraceable wealth, I am stepping out of the shadows.
I am going to bankrupt their packs from the inside out and make my former Alpha watch his empire burn.
7.9
I woke up in a burning warehouse, twelve years after my supposed death. My body had been reset to its physical prime, the deep burn scar on my wrist completely gone.
Through the smoke, my eldest son, Kennard, rushed blindly into the flames. He was screaming the name of the very woman who had orchestrated this trap—Brittnie.
When I tackled him out of the way of a falling steel beam, he didn't recognize my youthful face. Instead, he pinned me to the concrete and nearly crushed my windpipe.
"How much did she pay you to carve up your face to look like a dead woman?"
He hissed the words at me, treating me like a sick corporate spy. For a decade, a bizarre narrative "script" had brainwashed my son, forcing him into pathetic devotion to Brittnie. She had drained his wealth, turned my daughter against him, and hollowed out our family empire.
Whenever Kennard tried to resist her, the mind control punished him with agonizing migraines, driving him to smash his own hands against the wall just to cope with the pain.
Hearing him quietly sobbing outside my locked door, my heart shattered. How could this invisible force torture my brilliant son and turn my family into puppets for a D-list actress?
I dragged him to the hospital for a DNA test.
When the results confirmed my maternity at 99.999%, the cold billionaire collapsed to the floor, weeping in my arms like a lost child.
I wiped his tears and smiled ruthlessly. It was time to take back my empire and burn Brittnie's life to the ground.