Reborn Heiress: Marrying The Ruthless Billionaire
I was supposed to be celebrating my twenty-first birthday and my engagement to the man I loved.
Instead, I was bleeding out in a crushed car, listening to my fiancé Greggory and my stepsister Alta laughing over the car's Bluetooth.
They had cut my brakes.
As the steering wheel crushed my shattered ribs, they cheerfully clinked their champagne glasses, celebrating their hostile takeover of my family's media empire.
I tried to scream for help, but my lungs wouldn't work.
Then, Alta's sweet voice delivered the final, fatal blow over the speaker.
"Your mother? I took care of her too."
I died in the freezing rain, my heart frozen with absolute hatred as I realized every touch and whispered promise was just a calculated step toward my murder.
I gave them everything, treating them like my closest family.
Why did they have to kill my innocent mother? Why did I blindly trust two vipers who only wanted to drain my blood?
Opening my eyes again, the smell of gasoline was gone.
I was back in my bedroom, safe and unharmed, on the exact day of my twenty-first birthday party.
The day the tragedy began.
Downstairs, my murderers were waiting to spring their trap, expecting me to blindly accept Greggory's proposal.
But this time, I put on a blood-red dress, grabbed the photo of their secret affair, and walked down the stairs to choose a new fiancé—the most ruthless billionaire in the room.
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Chapter 10
Arthur clapped his hands, and a swarm of staff descended on the wreckage. They worked with quiet efficiency, sweeping up the glass, mopping the champagne, and dragging away the ruined table.
Within ten minutes, the center of the room was clear. The only evidence of the disaster was the faint smell of alcohol and the lingering shock on the guests' faces.
The band, taking their cue from Arthur, struck up a softer tune, trying to restore a sense of normalcy to the evening.
Harrison Knowles stepped up onto the small stage at the front of the room. He tapped the microphone, the sound echoing through the space.
The crowd fell silent, their attention shifting from the drama to the patriarch. This was what they had really come for-the power, the connections, the spectacle of wealth.
Greggory stood near the front of the crowd, his hands clasped in front of him. He took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. This was his moment.
He was absolutely certain that Annalise was going to use this opportunity to break free. The tantrum, the public humiliation of Alta-it all pointed to a woman pushed to the edge. She was going to refuse the arranged marriage, and he was going to be there to catch her.
He had his speech ready. The one where he would denounce the old ways, take her hand, and lead her out into the night. It was going to be legendary.
Annalise stood off to the side of the stage, her hands folded neatly in front of her. Angelo stood a few feet behind her, a silent, looming presence.
Eddy materialized at her elbow, his voice barely a whisper. "The photos have been sent to the columnist."
Annalise gave a slight nod. Alta's social death was now a certainty. By morning, the pictures of her exposed and falling would be on every screen in the country.
Harrison began his speech, the usual platitudes about family, legacy, and the future. He thanked the guests for their support, raising a glass to the city they called home.
"And most importantly," he said, his voice booming with pride, "today is a day of celebration. My daughter, Annalise, turns twenty-one."
The crowd applauded politely. Greggory leaned forward, his eyes locked on Annalise. He gave her a small, encouraging nod. The signal they had agreed upon. The signal for her to make her move.
Annalise looked at him. She let her gaze linger on his face for a long moment.
Then, she smiled. It wasn't the smile he was expecting. It was cold, sharp, and utterly devoid of love. It was the smile of a woman looking at a dead man walking.
Greggory's stomach dropped. The confidence in his eyes flickered, replaced by a sudden, cold uncertainty.
Harrison's voice cut through the tension. "Today, I also have another announcement to make."
Greggory straightened his tie, his heart hammering against his ribs. This was it. The rejection. The scandal. The beginning of their life together.
"My daughter, Annalise, is engaged to be married!" Harrison announced, his smile wide and genuine.
Greggory puffed out his chest, ready to step forward and claim her.
"To Angelo Molina."
The words hit Greggory like a physical blow. The air rushed out of his lungs, his ears ringing.
The crowd erupted in gasps and applause. Angelo Molina was a legend. He was the man who built an empire from nothing, the phantom of the financial world. And he was marrying the Knowles heiress.
Angelo stepped out of the shadows. He moved with a quiet, predatory grace, climbing the steps to the stage. He stopped right next to Annalise.
He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a velvet box. He flipped it open, revealing a massive diamond that caught the stage lights, and without a word, he slipped it onto her ring finger. Then, he took her hand in his, his grip firm and warm. He didn't just hold it; he claimed it, intertwining their fingers so the large diamond caught the light.
Annalise didn't hesitate. She squeezed his hand back, lifting their joined hands to face the crowd. She was beaming, a picture of joy and triumph.
Greggory stood frozen in the crowd. His mouth was hanging open, his eyes wide and unseeing. He looked like a man who had just watched his entire world collapse. He was a statue of humiliation, a joke in a expensive suit.
Annalise didn't spare him a second glance. She kept her eyes on the crowd, on the future, on the man beside her.
Angelo looked down at her. The coldness in his eyes had melted away, replaced by something deep and possessive. It was a look that said mine, a look that promised forever.
Under the cover of the applause, Annalise allowed herself a small, real smile. The first piece was in place.
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8.1
Terminally ill.
Betrayed by her husband.
Abandoned by the only family she had.
Ariel died with nothing... and no one.
But fate gives her a second chance.
Reborn three years before her death, she walks away from the man who ruined her life-and takes back everything they stole.
Her love.
Her identity.
Her power.
Now, the cold billionaire who once ignored her can't take his eyes off her.
The brother who abandoned her starts to regret.
Too late.
Because this time, Ariel isn't the woman who begs.
She's the one who makes them kneel.
9.5
My husband, Colton, the Wall Street mogul, slid annulment papers across the table, coldly discarding me and our unborn child. He thought he was getting rid of a useless wife, but he was actually throwing away the secret architect of his entire empire. Now, I'm ready to make him pay for every insult, every lie, and every single secret I've kept.
For three years, eight months pregnant, I secretly saved Colton's ten-billion-dollar company from collapse, enduring a cold, transactional marriage.
One night, he shattered that illusion, serving annulment papers and callously discarding me and our unborn child.
I signed, leaving luxury behind. Exposing his butler's fraud, I escaped. Colton later found his wedding ring gone and, on his desk, my SEC compliance fixes—proof I was his hidden genius.
Blindsided, he realized he’d destroyed his own empire. His mother then called, gloating. The injustice ignited a fierce resolve within me.
The next morning, I launched Kidd Legal Consulting. I'd use forty-seven folders of Farmer Capital's un-patched loopholes to force a fair settlement, securing my daughter's future.
9.8
Adeline's stepmother had secretly drugged her for years, turning a child genius into a drooling, mentally disabled laughingstock just so her stepsister could steal her life.
But when her greedy father sold her off to Griffin Herring—a violent, untouchable billionaire psychopath—to save his company, things took a deadly turn.
Before the wedding, Griffin attacked her in a dark alley, nearly snapping her neck before stealing her grandfather's silver necklace.
That necklace held a micro-drive with her family's deepest secrets, and without it, she had nothing.
Back at the estate, her situation only worsened. Her stepsister Damaris paraded around in the Herring family's diamond engagement gifts, trying to force-feed Adeline wet dog food on an Instagram live stream.
When Adeline's calculated "clumsiness" ruined the video, her furious father locked her in a damp, rusted basement.
"Give her to the psycho," her stepmother hissed through the door. "Let him lock her away forever."
Listening from the shadows, Adeline's fists clenched until her palms bled.
Her supposed mental fog wasn't a tragedy—it was a calculated assassination of her mind. They had destroyed her childhood and were now throwing her to a monster just to keep the billions.
The dull, empty look in Adeline's eyes vanished instantly, replaced by a razor-sharp, chilling clarity.
She pulled a thin surgical needle from her messy bun and picked the heavy iron padlock in ten seconds. It was time to break into the billionaire's penthouse, take back her necklace, and tear them all apart.
8.4
Elia was an orphan from the rust belt, taken in by the wealthy Chapman family in New York.
To them, she was just a shameful charity case.
The parents shoved her into a dusty storage closet, treating their other daughter Geri like a delicate princess, and mocked Elia as uneducated trash.
When Elia secured her own admission to Manhattan Elite Prep, Geri's jealousy turned vicious.
Geri orchestrated a massive smear campaign, posting anonymously on the school forum that Elia was a violent dropout who sold her body to a sugar daddy to pay tuition.
In the cafeteria, the school's elite dumped dirty milk on Elia's food.
They called her a whore and told her to go back to the streets, while Geri watched from afar with a victorious, innocent smile.
They thought she was just a helpless stray dog who would easily break under their high-society cruelty.
They had no idea she was actually "L", the dark web's most feared hacker, and "The Surgeon", a genius medical anomaly.
They also didn't know she was currently tracking a dying Wall Street billionaire who had stolen her only necklace in a dark alley.
What made these arrogant rich kids think they could destroy a girl who played with international firewalls for fun?
Instead of crying, Elia calmly pulled out her phone.
Within seconds, she breached the school's server, locking every screen in the building onto a blood-red skull.
As Geri's own recorded voice plotting the fake rumors blasted through the PA system, Elia grabbed her bag, stepping back into the shadows to reclaim what was hers.
7.2
Elmore Thomas rushed into the emergency room, clutching his feverish seven-year-old son, Buddy, tightly to his chest.
When the privacy curtain was pulled back, the air in Elmore's lungs vanished. The attending physician standing under the harsh lights was his wife, Kendal—the woman everyone believed had burned to death eight years ago.
But there was no tearful reunion. Kendal looked at him, and her eyes froze into impenetrable ice. She treated him like a biohazard, strictly referring to him as the family member.
Worse, she didn't recognize Buddy. She comforted their crying son with the same gentle warmth she used to reserve for Elmore, completely unaware she was soothing the baby she thought had died.
Days later, Elmore watched from the shadows as she picked up another boy outside a prep school, her left hand flashing a massive diamond engagement ring.
When his butler accidentally recognized her, Kendal shielded her new stepson with pure disgust in her eyes.
"Tell that psychopath to sign the divorce papers immediately. I have a new family now."
The words 'new family' echoed in Elmore's skull, tearing him apart. For eight years, he had lived in a hell of guilt and madness, raising their son in the shadow of her ghost. How could she just erase their past? How could she give her tender smiles to a stranger and look at him with absolute revulsion?
Standing in a luxury ballroom, Elmore squeezed his hand until his crystal champagne flute shattered, thick blood dripping onto the rug. The murderous obsession in his dark eyes returned as he called his lawyer.
"Freeze her divorce application. Use every dirty trick in the book. She isn't leaving."
9.5
I woke up gasping from a nightmare of flames devouring Chandler Finch's estate, my body wrapped in burning curtains as I died alone.
But my eyes opened to silk sheets in his penthouse master bedroom. He was alive beside me, his cedarwood scent real. This was my second chance—I'd been reborn.
His phone buzzed: Eugenia Stewart's "emergency." Her security detail reported her refusing meals, unstable. Chandler bolted without a glance, rushing to her side.
I signed the brutal cohabitation contract binding me to him, but Temperance had planted birth control pills in the trash—a trap to frame me. Chandler found them, exploded in jealous rage, crushing the pills to dust. "No child unless it's mine," he growled, possessive fire in his eyes.
Brett, Eugenia's lapdog, stormed in later, accusing me of manipulation. I fired back: Chandler demanded my womb for his heir. Brett paled, fled to tattle.
Then the storm hit—power outage, locked on the terrace in pouring rain, freezing as Eugenia faked an asthma attack on Chandler's line, stealing his focus again. I hung up, huddled with a stray puppy, nearly dying from hypothermia.
He'd never believed me before—Eugenia's lies always won, dooming me to isolation and fire. Why did her every whimper trump my screams? How could he be so blind?
This time, reborn weeks before the inferno, I wouldn't beg. I'd play his game, shatter Eugenia's web, and make Chandler mine—before the flames returned.