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Reborn As The Cold Villain's Daughter Novel Cover

Reborn As The Cold Villain's Daughter

I woke up suffocating in the dark, only to find my mind trapped inside a tiny, plump, and entirely uncoordinated body. A cold, mechanical voice echoed in my brain, announcing that I was dead in my original world and had transmigrated into a corporate revenge novel as the six-month-old illegitimate daughter of Edward McClure, the story's ruthless villain. The system mercilessly outlined my doomed fate. Tonight, my cold-blooded father would abandon me to a state orphanage. By age two, he would officially sign my rights away, leaving me to die miserably at the hands of human traffickers. Outside my nursery, I could hear his terrifying footsteps approaching, his voice devoid of any human warmth as he debated throwing me out like garbage. I was completely helpless, trapped in a baby's body, staring up at a man who looked at me with pure, visceral disgust. Why did I have to be reborn as the tragic cannon fodder of a tyrant destined to put a bullet in his own head? How was I supposed to win over a severe germaphobe when my unequipped infant reflexes made me literally pee and vomit all over his pristine Tom Ford suits? "Your ultimate mission is to prevent Edward McClure's self-destruction. Step one: Survive tonight's abandonment crisis." Hearing the system's terrifying ultimatum, I swallowed my adult panic, forced a pool of pitiful tears into my large eyes, and reached my chubby little hands toward the monster.
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Chapter 7

Edward's foot slowly lowered to the floor. He turned around, his brow furrowed in deep irritation.

He stared at the small, pink bundle in the crib, waving her arms frantically. He assumed she had soiled herself again.

He looked at Martha, his voice dripping with impatience. "What is wrong with her now?"

Martha, completely unphased by his tone, smiled gently. "Mr. McClure, I believe she is asking for a morning hug before you leave."

The words "morning hug" hit Edward like a physical blow. His face went completely blank, his body stiffening as if Martha had suggested he jump out the window.

Hayley knew she had to sell it. She pushed herself up slightly, extending both her chubby arms directly toward Edward. She opened her mouth and gave him the widest, most toothless smile she could muster.

Edward stared at her. His mind instantly flashed back to the warm, spreading stain of urine on his suit the night before. He took a distinct step backward, his body physically rejecting the idea.

Task failing, the system warned. Target is retreating.

Hayley cursed internally. She dropped the smile. She squeezed her eyes tight, forcing a massive pool of tears to form. Her lower lip jutted out, trembling violently.

The instantaneous shift from a bright smile to utter heartbreak caught Edward off guard. The cold, mechanical rhythm of his heart stuttered.

Martha stepped in, her tone perfectly professional. "Infants who lack physical contact from their primary caregiver often develop severe separation anxiety. It can lead to deep-seated behavioral issues later in life."

The clinical terminology worked. Edward's brain processed "behavioral issues" as "future liabilities."

He let out a harsh breath, treating the situation like a necessary, unpleasant business transaction.

He walked slowly toward the crib. He reached down, his large, manicured hands hesitating before slipping under her armpits.

The moment his skin brushed against her cotton sleep sack, a shocking amount of heat transferred to his palms.

Edward tensed, but he didn't pull away. He lifted her up, holding her stiffly in front of him.

Hayley didn't waste a second. As soon as she was high enough, she threw her arms around his neck, locking her hands together.

She dropped her head forward, pressing her soft, warm cheek directly against his expensive silk tie. She nuzzled into his chest, letting out a soft, contented sigh.

The absolute trust in the gesture sent a jolt of electricity straight through Edward's chest.

His rigid spine relaxed for a fraction of a second. A strange, tight sensation bloomed in his throat. It was an emotion he couldn't name, and it terrified him.

His right hand twitched. He almost brought it up to cup the back of her small head.

Then, logic slammed back into him.

He was losing control.

Edward's eyes widened in panic. He grabbed Hayley by the waist and practically peeled her off his chest. He shoved her into Martha's waiting arms with frantic speed.

Hayley grunted at the sudden loss of gravity, but as she looked up, she saw a faint, undeniable flush creeping up the back of Edward's neck.

Edward aggressively smoothed down his tie, coughing to clear the tightness in his throat. His voice was harder and colder than usual. "Watch her. I likely won't be back tonight."

He turned and practically sprinted out of the nursery, desperate to put walls between himself and the terrifying vulnerability he had just felt.

Martha held Hayley, watching the billionaire flee. A small, knowing smile touched the nanny's lips.

Ding! the system chimed. Emotional barrier breached. Survival crisis temporarily averted.

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