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Reborn Heiress: Dragging Traitors To Hell Novel Cover

Reborn Heiress: Dragging Traitors To Hell

The world was a symphony of agony, played on the strings of my own body. I was tied to a chair in a damp basement, the metallic tang of blood filling my mouth as my fingernails were ripped from their beds by a pair of rusty pliers. My best friend, Corrine, stepped into the flickering light wearing my favorite Chanel suit and the engagement ring that was supposed to be mine. Beside her, my fiancé Aldo held the pliers, his voice smooth and cultured as he demanded I sign over my entire inheritance to them. As I struggled, a news report flashed on an old TV in the corner: Hunter Gallagher, the man I had treated like dirt but who had always tried to protect me, was dead in a horrific car explosion. Corrine laughed, whispering in my ear that they had lured him to his death using a fake kidnapping tip. He died trying to save me from a trap set by the people I trusted most. They didn't just want my money; they wanted to erase me. They plunged a needle full of heroin into my neck, watching with cold, mocking eyes as my heart hammered against my ribs and finally seized into nothingness. I died in that basement, a blind, spoiled girl who had let her true protector be murdered. As the darkness closed in, my soul burned with a single, silent vow: If I ever get another life, I will drag you both to hell with me. Suddenly, I gasped for air, my lungs fighting against a weight that wasn't there. I wasn't in the basement; I was in my own bed, my fingernails intact and my skin unbroken. I checked my phone, and my heart stopped—it was May 20th, exactly one year before my death. Hunter was still alive, and this time, I wasn't the prey.
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Chapter 7

Kaycee stared at the check. It was a rectangle of blue paper that represented everything wrong between them. It was his shield. It was his way of saying, I can pay you to leave me alone so you can't hurt me anymore.

She looked up at him. His jaw was set, his eyes guarded. He was waiting for her to grab it.

Slowly, deliberately, she reached out.

Hunter flinched slightly, expecting her to snatch it.

Instead, she placed two fingers on the check and slid it back across the marble until it rested against his hand.

"No," she said.

Hunter blinked. "What?"

"I said no."

"It's twenty million, Kaycee. It's more than your trust allowance for the next five years."

"I don't care."

She stood up. She walked around the island. Hunter straightened, tensing up as she approached.

She stopped right in front of him. She reached out and took the pen from his hand. She tossed it into the sink. It clattered loudly against the metal.

Then she picked up the check.

Hunter watched, mesmerized, as she tore it down the middle. Then again. And again. until it was nothing but blue confetti.

She opened her hand and let the pieces flutter to the floor between them.

"I don't want your money, Hunter," she said, her voice fierce. "I want you."

Hunter stared at the paper on the floor. He looked like he'd been slapped.

"You're... you're tearing up twenty million dollars? For a bit?"

"It's not a bit!" She grabbed the fabric of his t-shirt and yanked him closer so they were eye to level. "I want to be your wife. Your real wife. Not a business merger. Not a tax write-off. I want us."

Hunter's breathing hitched. His hands came up to grip her waist, almost reflexively, to steady himself.

"You don't know what you're saying," he whispered. "You'll get bored. In a week, you'll hate me again."

"Try me," she challenged. "Test me. Make me sign a prenup that says I get nothing if I leave. I don't care. Just... see me."

Hunter looked into her eyes. He was searching for the lie. He was searching for the trap. But all he saw was a fire he had never seen before.

"If this is a game," he said low in his throat, "it's a dangerous one, Kaycee. Because I won't let you go easily this time."

"Good," she said. "Don't."

The air between them crackled. The smell of bacon was forgotten. There was only the heat of his hands on her waist and the desperate hope in his eyes.

Hunter pulled back abruptly, breaking the contact. The loss of his touch was a physical coldness.

"I have to go to work," he said, his voice strained. "I can't... I can't do this right now. My head is spinning."

He turned and practically ran out of the kitchen.

"Hunter!" she called after him.

"Stay here!" he shouted back from the hallway. "Don't follow me. Just... stay."

The front door slammed.

Kaycee stood in the kitchen, surrounded by the confetti of twenty million dollars. She smiled.

He hadn't said leave. He had said stay.

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