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 4
Rita's cheek was still swollen from Lainey's slap. There was no way she'd just let her leave after that.
Lainey tipped her head slightly, her gaze settling on Rita with a calm, almost amused look. "Rita, are you sure you want to go down this road?"
Rita mistook that composure for weakness. Lifting her chin, she drew herself up arrogantly. "Of course! Who knows what you've hidden away? Open your suitcase. I'm going through it myself."
Larry stayed completely uninvolved. He remained beside Charlee, holding her close as if nothing else in the room mattered, whispering reassurance to her.
At that sight, whatever lingering ache remained in Lainey's chest vanished, replaced by nothing but cold hatred.
Her expression turned indifferent. Without a word, she crouched and pulled open the zipper of her suitcase. "Go ahead. Look carefully. See if there's anything in there that belongs to your family."
Rita wasted no time. She immediately began rummaging through the contents, turning everything upside down without the slightest regard. Clothes were tossed aside carelessly, the suitcase quickly becoming a chaotic mess. As if that wasn't enough, she deliberately flung a few of Lainey's undergarments onto the floor, her actions dripping with insult.
Lainey stood there, watching silently. Then she lowered her eyes and sent a quick message to her assistant, Rose Ford.
"Come to the Millers' with a few bodyguards. Bring some empty suitcases."
The reply came almost instantly.
"Are you finally done tolerating them? Leave it to me. I'll be there in ten minutes."
A faint, almost ironic smile curved Lainey's lips.
Rose had told her more than once that the Miller family wasn't worth her patience, especially Larry. Back then, she hadn't listened. She had given everything she had, thinking effort would be enough.
Now she looked up again. Rita was still searching with a smug expression, while Charlee stood nearby watching like it was entertainment.
Lainey spoke again, her voice steady. "So? Finished yet? Did you find anything that belongs to you?"
Rita gave the suitcase a disdainful kick, her lips curling. "There's nothing useful in here. Just trash."
Her eyes were full of scorn as she added, "Now pick it all up and clean this mess before you leave."
But instead of complying, Lainey walked over to a nearby shelf and picked up a porcelain vase, turning it slowly in her hand.
She said quietly, "Not everything here belongs to you." She held it up slightly. "I bought this vase two months ago. Three million. Since I paid for it, I'm taking it away."
Her hand then pointed toward the wall. "That painting and the clock over there... I purchased both three months ago. Ten million altogether. They're coming with me too."
Rita's expression twisted in disbelief. "Are you serious? You gave those to us! You can't just take them back now!"
Larry's brows pulled together as well. "My mother is attached to that painting. You're not taking it."
Charlee, still playing the role of the fragile victim, added softly with a wounded tone, "I always thought you were someone generous. Why are you suddenly acting so petty?"
With the three of them speaking one after another, the situation was quickly twisted—making it seem like Lainey was the unreasonable one causing all the chaos.
Just then, Rose showed up, accompanied by a group of bodyguards. Lainey immediately gestured around the living room while issuing instructions one after another. "The Hermès fruit bowl—mine. Pack it. The Tiffany tea set—mine. Take it. The Chanel curtains—also mine. Take them down."
Her gaze shifted to the living room sofa. "And this sofa cost me two million. That goes as well."
Rose looked almost energized, as if she had been waiting for this moment. With efficient coordination, she and the bodyguards began clearing out everything Lainey had originally financed, one item after another.
Larry's expression turned increasingly dark. "So this is your revenge? You're really tearing this entire house apart just to get back at me?"
Lainey didn't respond immediately. Instead, she calmly bent down and started collecting the rest of her belongings from the floor. Only after finishing did she speak. "I wasn't planning to argue over a few things I once bought." She paused briefly. "But your mother insisted on making a scene out of it. So now she gets to see what it looks like when I stop holding back."
She zipped up her suitcase and stood upright again, her gaze landing on Rita with a faint, almost unsettling smile. "Well, Rita, satisfied now?"
The words hit like a final blow. Rita's eyes rolled back, and she collapsed on the spot.
The moment Lainey turned to leave, panic erupted behind her.
"Mom!" Larry shouted.
"Mrs. Miller!" Charlee cried out as well.
Seeing Rita faint, Charlee immediately seized the opportunity, her voice dripping with concern and accusation. "Larry, this is too much. Lainey actually took everything and stressed Mrs. Miller into collapsing. How can she be so disrespectful to you and your family?"
Larry laid Rita down on a chair, his face tight with anger as he straightened up again. He turned toward Lainey with a cold, cutting stare. "Go ahead then," he yelled. "Walk out now if you want. But when Nova Tech's launch succeeds in a few days, don't expect to come back. Even if you crawl on your knees, I won't let you near this family again."
At the mention of Nova Tech, something shifted in Lainey's expression. That company's AI division was the backbone of the Miller Group's upcoming success. In her past life, she had attended that very launch—not as a guest, but as Larry's hidden helper behind the scenes.
When Bryan had attempted to expose Nova Tech's fake technology, she had interfered and sabotaged Wilson Group instead, forcing him to step back. She had even handed over her own company's research just to secure Larry's success.
That single event had made Nova Tech explode in value, earning Larry unimaginable profits.
This time, things would be different. She would not help him.
And she would make sure Bryan didn't lose either.
A confident curve appeared on her lips. "Alright. Then we'll see how that turns out," she said softly.
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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.