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Reborn Heiress: Marrying The Ruthless Billionaire Novel Cover

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 4

The ballroom was a sea of glittering chandeliers and clinking crystal. The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and ambition. Men in tailored tuxedos leaned in to whisper to women dripping in diamonds, the usual dance of money and power playing out on the marble floor.

Greggory stood near the center of the room, a champagne flute in his hand. His eyes kept darting to the top of the grand staircase, a small, expectant smile playing on his lips.

Alta hovered a few feet away, wearing a virginal white gown that made her look like a debutante. She kept her eyes downcast, playing the part of the demure younger sister, but her fingers were twisting the clasp of her purse so hard the metal was warm.

Greggory leaned toward a gray-haired man beside him, lowering his voice. "Just watch. She's going to make a scene tonight."

He was absolutely certain. Annalise was a creature of emotion. She would see him, lose her mind, and publicly refuse the arranged marriage. It would be the perfect scandal to justify their elopement.

The quartet shifted their tempo, the music swelling into a grand, sweeping melody.

The lights in the room dimmed, leaving only a single spotlight focused on the top of the stairs.

The crowd went silent. Hundreds of heads turned, their conversations dying mid-sentence.

Annalise stepped into the light.

A collective murmur rippled through the ballroom. The red dress was a shock of color against the white marble, clinging to her figure like a second skin. She looked powerful, untouchable, and furious.

Greggory's breath caught in his throat. His eyes darkened with a greedy hunger. She was magnificent. And she was his.

Annalise began her descent. The sharp click of her heels on the stone echoed through the quiet room, a steady, rhythmic heartbeat. She kept her chin high, her gaze sweeping over the crowd like a queen surveying her subjects.

Her eyes found Greggory. He puffed out his chest, offering her a slow, confident smile. The kind of smile that said, "I'm here. Come to me."

The corner of Annalise's mouth twitched. It was a smile that held no warmth, only a chilling mockery. Then, she looked right past him.

Her gaze slid over to Alta. The younger girl flinched, taking a half-step back. The look in Annalise's eyes wasn't sisterly affection. It was the flat, assessing stare of a butcher looking at a side of beef.

Alta's skin prickled with goosebumps. Something was wrong.

Annalise reached the bottom of the stairs. Instead of turning toward the expectant Greggory, she pivoted sharply to the left.

She walked straight toward the head table, where her father sat talking to the governor.

Greggory's smile froze. His hand, holding the champagne, hovered in the air. He took a confused step forward, but the crowd was too thick.

Annalise reached the table and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her father's cheek. She murmured something in his ear, and Harrison Knowles beamed, his chest swelling with pride. He took her hand, helping her into the seat beside him.

She was claiming her place. The heiress. The one in control.

Greggory was left standing in the middle of the floor, looking like a man who had just missed his cue. People were starting to glance at him, then back at Annalise, the whispers starting anew.

He tried to push his way toward the head table, his charming mask slipping. "Annalise," he called out, trying to catch her eye.

She didn't even turn her head. She was engaged in a lively conversation with the senator's wife, her laughter ringing out clear and false.

Alta tried to follow, to slip into the inner circle, but two broad-shouldered security men stepped smoothly into her path. They didn't say a word, just stood there like a wall of black suits.

Annalise took a slow sip of her water, watching the two of them struggle from her peripheral vision. It was a mild irritation, nothing more. The main event was yet to come.

She set her glass down and turned her gaze to the center of the room. The champagne tower glittered under the lights, a fragile mountain of glass and bubbles.

She caught Eddy's eye across the room. He was standing near the balcony doors, his hands clasped in front of him.

She gave him a slight, almost imperceptible nod.

Eddy returned the gesture, his face unreadable. The trap was set.

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