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Reborn Heiress Marries My Ex-Fiancé's Brother Novel Cover

Reborn Heiress Marries My Ex-Fiancé's Brother

Tonight was supposed to be the night I became the happiest woman in D.C., celebrating my engagement at the legendary Bolton Manor gala. I wore emerald silk and a diamond that cost more than most mansions, convinced that Hank Bolton was my soulmate and the key to my family's future. But behind the heavy oak doors of the guest wing, the dream died. I found my fiancé tangled with another woman, laughing about how I was nothing more than a "clueless cash cow" whose inheritance would fund his run for the Senate. In my first life, I reacted with tears and screams, which only allowed his family to paint me as an unstable lunatic. They stripped me of my dignity, bankrupted the Adams estate, and watched coldly as my brother, Lucas, died in a ditch trying to save me. I ended up gasping for air in a burning building, realizing too late that my perfect engagement was actually my execution. I died in the soot and the shadows, feeling the searing heat of a betrayal that burned worse than the fire. I lost everything because I was too blind to see the monsters hiding behind expensive smiles. But then, I suddenly gasped for air and realized the smoke was gone. I was standing in front of a vanity, the calendar mocking me: October 14th. The night of the gala. I had been given a second chance, and this time, I wasn't going to be the victim. I recorded the betrayal on my phone and walked into the library with a heart made of ice. I didn't just blow up the engagement; I demanded a new groom—Hank’s "invalid" older brother, Dereck, a man the world had written off as a dying recluse. "I'll take him," I told the stunned family. I wanted a husband who couldn't cheat, a puppet who would leave me a wealthy widow within a year. I thought I was choosing a safe, broken man to shield me from my enemies. I didn't know that under his blanket, Dereck was hiding a holster, or that the "dying" man was actually a predator who had been waiting for someone exactly like me to walk into his trap.
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Chapter 9

They didn't dance. Obviously.

Annette wheeled Dereck away from the suffocating crowd, out through the French doors to the garden terrace. The night air was cool, a relief after the heat of the ballroom.

They were finally alone.

Annette dropped the smile instantly. She leaned against the stone railing, looking out at the dark gardens.

"Thank you for agreeing," she said.

Dereck adjusted his cuffs. "I didn't do it for you. I did it for the Trust."

"Honest. I like that," Annette said. She turned to face him.

"So, what's the plan?" Dereck asked, watching her closely.

"We stay married," she said. "You get your money. I get my safety."

"And when I die?" Dereck asked.

The question hung in the cool air.

Annette froze. "What?"

"Everyone says I'm dying. Isn't that why you picked me?" he pressed. His voice was smooth, lacking the rasp he used with his father.

Annette recovered quickly. "I picked you because you aren't Hank."

"And because you have a nice face," she added, deflecting.

Dereck chuckled darkly. "Don't get attached, sweetheart."

"I won't," she promised.

"I need to move my things to the West Wing tonight," she stated abruptly.

"Tonight? Impatient?" Dereck raised an eyebrow.

"Safety," she said. "Bernadine will try to poison my coffee tomorrow morning if I stay in the main house."

Dereck looked at her. He saw a flash of genuine fear in her eyes. It wasn't an act. She really knew what Bernadine was capable of.

"Fine," he said. "But stay out of my study. And the basement."

"Deal," she said. "I'll stick to the bedroom."

Dereck hid a smile at the accidental double entendre. "Let's go sign the papers."

They returned inside. The lawyer had the documents ready.

Hank watched from the shadows, holding a fresh drink, his eyes red and angry.

Annette signed with a flourish.

Dereck took the pen. His hand was steady. He signed Dereck Bolton.

The marriage was legal. The fate was sealed.

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