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Reborn as the Villain's Wife Novel Cover

Reborn as the Villain's Wife

I died in a mangled wreck of metal and fire, abandoned by the man I thought was my soulmate. But instead of the void, I woke up pinned against a cold marble wall, staring into the turbulent, storm-gray eyes of Damian Vincent. This was the night I destroyed my life. In my past world, I spat in Damian's face and ran into the arms of Eddie, a parasitic loser who was secretly plotting with my cousin Jill to strip me of my inheritance. My "escape" turned into a slow-motion suicide. My brother Donavan died in a horrific car crash while racing to save me from another one of my messes. Damian, consumed by a toxic mix of grief and vengeance, crushed the Nelson family empire until my father was a broken man. I spent years as a drugged-up social pariah, finally dying alone while the people I trusted laughed at my funeral. The most bitter realization didn't hit me until the end. The "controlling monster" I spent years fighting was the only person who ever truly protected me. I had traded a man who would burn the world for me for a man who would burn me for the world. Opening my eyes three years in the past, I find myself back at the airport, the rain lashing against the windows. My brother is pleading with me to run, and Damian is standing there, braced for the slap he thinks is coming. But I don't strike him. I press my palm to his burning cheek and give him the only piece of my soul he couldn't buy. "I'm not going anywhere, Dami. Keep this as my collateral." The game has changed. This time, I'm not the victim-I'm the one holding the match.
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Chapter 2

"Let me go, Damian," Elise pleaded, trying to twist out of his iron grip as he dragged her into the elevator. The doors slid shut, sealing them in the mirrored box. "Don't hurt him. Please."

"Hurt him?" Damian's laugh was a cold, sharp sound that bounced off the walls. "Your brother comes into my building, demanding to take what is mine. He's lucky I don't break his legs." He jabbed the button for the underground garage. "You wanted to run. Fine. We'll run."

The ride down was a tense, suffocating silence. When the doors opened to the cavernous garage, the engine of a black Maybach was already purring. He didn't release her until he had shoved her into the backseat and slid in beside her. The car peeled out into the storm-ravaged streets of Manhattan, heading for the airport.

Rain slashed sideways across the tarmac, stinging like icy needles.

Elise sat in the back of Damian's black Maybach. The leather seat was cold against her legs. Through the tinted window, the world was a blur of gray storm and flashing hazard lights.

A sleek Gulfstream jet sat on the runway, its engines whining, cutting through the sound of the thunder.

The car door was ripped open.

Wind and rain flooded the cabin. Donavan stood there, soaked to the bone. His hair was plastered to his forehead, his suit ruined. But his eyes were frantic with worry.

"Elise!" he shouted over the roar of the jet engines. He reached a hand inside. "Come on! I've got you. We have to go now!"

Before she could move, a black umbrella snapped open, blocking Donavan's view.

Damian stepped between them. He didn't look at Donavan. He looked at the space where Donavan's hand was reaching for Elise.

"Touch her," Damian said, his voice low and deadly, "and you lose the hand."

Sterling and four security guards materialized from the shadows, forming a wall around the car.

"She's my sister, you son of a bitch!" Donavan screamed. He lunged forward, but a guard blocked him. "You're kidnapping her! The Nelson family won't stand for this!"

Damian stood immobile. The rain hammered against his black trench coat. He was a statue of darkness. His hands were thrust deep into his pockets, but Elise could see the tension in his shoulders. He was waiting.

He was waiting for her to run. To scream for help.

Elise looked at Donavan. He looked so tired. The stress lines around his eyes were deep. He loved her so much, and she had repaid him with nothing but trouble.

She took a breath. The air tasted of jet fuel and rain.

She slid across the seat and stepped out of the car.

Her bare feet hit the wet asphalt. The cold water soaked the hem of her torn fishnets.

"Elise!" Donavan's face lit up with relief. "Run! The plane is ready. It'll take you to Paris. Eddie is waiting for you there."

Eddie.

The name acted like a physical blow. Damian flinched. The air around him dropped ten degrees. He turned his head slowly to look at her. His eyes were empty voids.

Elise looked up at Damian. She saw the violence coiling in his muscles. She saw the heartbreak he was trying to drown in rage.

She turned to her brother.

"I'm not going, Donavan."

Donavan froze. His mouth hung open, catching the rain. "What? Did he drug you? Elise, it's me. You can tell me."

"He didn't drug me," Elise said. Her voice was clear, cutting through the storm. "I'm staying. I'm staying in New York. I'm staying with Damian."

Damian's head snapped toward her. Water dripped from his jawline. He looked at her like she was speaking a foreign language.

"You... you love Eddie," Donavan stammered. "You said Damian was a controlling monster."

Elise stepped closer to Damian. She moved into the shelter of his umbrella. She felt the heat radiating from his body.

"I was wrong, Donavan. I've been a fool," she said, her voice laced with a weariness that went far beyond her years. "I thought Eddie was freedom, but he was just another cage. Damian... he's controlling, yes, but he's also the only one who has ever truly protected me. I need that protection now. I need to be safe."

She looked up at Damian, meeting his shocked gaze. "And I am safest with him."

Damian went still. A flush of color crept up his neck, visible even in the dim runway lights. His arm flexed under her grip, trapping her hand against his side.

Donavan stared at them. He looked from Elise's determined face to Damian's possessive stance. He saw the way Damian instantly shifted his weight to shield her from the wind.

Donavan's shoulders slumped. The fight went out of him.

"You're making a mistake, Ellie," he said softly.

"It's my mistake to make," Elise replied. She stepped forward and hugged her brother quickly. She whispered in his ear, "I'm sorry. I'll explain everything at dinner on Friday. Trust me."

She pulled back.

Donavan glared at Damian. "If you hurt her... if I see one bruise on her..."

"Go," Damian said. It wasn't a suggestion.

Donavan turned and walked back to his car. He looked back once, then got in and drove away.

The jet engines spooled down. The sound died.

Silence returned to the tarmac, heavy and suffocating.

Elise turned to face Damian.

He wasn't looking at the departing car. He was looking at her. His gaze was intense, dissecting her, peeling back her layers.

He took a step toward her. The umbrella tilted, casting a shadow over her face.

"That was a very convincing performance," he said. His voice was cold, but there was a tremor in it. "Buying time for your lover to escape?"

Elise didn't flinch. She slid her hand down his arm until her fingers interlaced with his. His hand was freezing.

"I'm cold, Dami," she said softly. "Take me home."

Damian stared at their joined hands. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. He didn't pull away.

He opened the car door for her.

They slid into the back seat. The door thudded shut, sealing them in. The air in the car was thick with humidity and tension.

Elise leaned back, closing her eyes. She felt Damian's gaze on her profile. It felt like a physical touch, heavy and burning.

Bzzzzzt.

A vibration cut through the silence.

Elise's eyes snapped open. Her purse, sitting on the floorboard, lit up.

The screen flashed bright in the dark cabin.

Caller ID: Eddie My Love.

The temperature in the car plummeted.

Damian saw the name. His lip curled into a snarl. He reached for the phone, his hand a claw.

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