Reborn for You: Married to a Leader

Before the engagement ceremony, I held my father's funeral.

I stood in the funeral home and stared at his portrait. I made a quiet vow there and then.

Before my father died, his last wish was for me to live in happiness. In this lifetime, I wouldn't disappoint him.

The Quinn family spared no expense. Other family members were present. Politicians and business associates also came to pay their respects.

However, I did not expect Fletcher to attend as he never cared much about things that involved me.

At this exact moment in my previous life, he had been at home, tangled up in bed with Sabrina. That was what she provoked me with before I died.

When I saw Sabrina, dolled up in heavy makeup and bright dress, trailing behind Fletcher, I understood that she might have pushed him to come to get under my skin.

Sabrina hooked her arm through his and kept flaunting their love in front of me.

"Sabrina, I can excuse the fact that you're an orphan," I questioned. "Didn't the Quinn family teach you better than to arrive at a funeral in bright color?"

Fletcher frowned in surprise. He had probably never seen me like this before, sharp and unyielding.

For years, I had played the obedient young woman he preferred. I had kept my claws sheathed, and I had never dared to talk back to his precious Sabrina.

"What's with your temper today? You should thank Sabrina for thinking of you. If it weren't for her, I wouldn't even be here!

"Don't think you can boss her around just because you'll be my wife! The Quinn family despises infighting!"

Hearing Fletcher's words, Sabrina lowered her gaze, looking all innocent. "Don't worry, Fletcher. I won't find fault with Christina. I'll let her have her way."

Then, she took the wreath from a maid and carried it forward with false grace.

I narrowed my eyes, wondering what scheme she was plotting this time.

Sure enough, as she passed my father's portrait, her hand brushed against the candle and toppled it.

As the flame inched closer toward my father's portrait, I rushed to stop it. However, I was a step too late.

The candle fell, and gasps broke out.

Ignoring the burn on my hand, I set the candle upright and wiped at the portrait.

"Fletcher, my hand hurts," Sabrina whimpered. She pretended to collapse in front of everyone. Oh, what a picture of innocence that was.

Fletcher rushed to her side, his heart aching with worry. "Where is the wound? Let me have a look. Is it bad?"

As I watched him search for a non-existent injury, I wanted nothing more than to pull the trigger and end them both.

"Sabrina, you did that on purpose. Apologize to my father!" I demanded.

Fletcher slapped me hard across the face. "I should be asking you to apologize! You saw her fall, yet you didn't even help her up. All you cared about was that damn candle! How can you be so vicious?"

For a moment, it felt like I was back in my previous life. I had been drowsy in the early weeks of pregnancy and was late in making breakfast for Sabrina. Fletcher had slapped me just as ruthlessly then.

"Oh, I'm sorry…" I apologized softly before grabbing Sabrina by the arm. Then, I seized the candle and tipped the hot wax over her fair hand. "This is what being vicious really means."

Sabrina screamed in pain.

Fletcher's eyes were bloodshot as he yanked me by the collar. "What's gotten into you today? Do you really think that marrying me means you can do whatever you want? I'll make you pay the price for Sabrina's pain once we're married!"

I stared at his twisted face, dazed for a moment.

Because of my father, I spent my childhood at the Quinn residence.

Hence, I knew Xavier's sons better than anyone.

Lucas Quinn, Fletcher's elder brother, had grown up among the henchmen. He was feared for his brutality. Fletcher, on the other hand, had been the one to bring me birthday cakes every year.

That was at least until Sabrina appeared.

I had loved him since I was six, with that love lasting for 16 years. Now, I couldn't tell whether the deep love I had for him was ever real or only a figment of my imagination.

"I know you want to torment me, but it'll only happen if I allow it. I have the final say now, so what makes you so sure I'll marry you?" I asked.

Fletcher shoved me away. He straightened his clothes, resuming his elegant air. "You're playing hard to get again, aren't you? You've pursued me shamelessly for over ten years.

"Will you bear to give up now? Besides, if you don't marry me, who will you marry instead? Lucas?

"Don't tell me you have no idea what he's like. Every woman in Nasterdam fears him. Marrying him just means you're only digging your grave."