
Reborn Heiress: My Ex-Fiancé's Bitter Regret
Annabelle lay dying on a rotting mattress in a freezing apartment, her lungs failing from severe malnutrition.
Her phone rang. It was her fiancé, Axel, calling from his lavish wedding—with her best friend, Fay.
"You were just a naive ATM," Axel chuckled over the phone.
He admitted he had drained her trust fund and framed her for the drug scandal that ruined her life.
Fay took the phone, wearing the haute couture wedding dress Annabelle had designed for herself.
"Your parents' private jet crash wasn't an accident," Fay whispered viciously.
The brutal truth shattered Annabelle. She died in pure agony, vomiting blood, her eyes wide open in absolute hatred.
But as her soul floated above her corpse, the door was kicked open by Dangelo Valencia—the arrogant heir she had despised her entire life.
He held her ruined body, sobbing, and ordered his private army to destroy Axel and Fay, sending them to prison.
Then, Dangelo collapsed, dying from a military shrapnel wound he got just to prove his worth after she had cruelly rejected him years ago.
Watching him bleed out for her, Annabelle's soul screamed in excruciating guilt.
Why had she blindly trusted a parasite who murdered her family, while destroying the only man who would burn the world down to avenge her?
When she opened her eyes again, she was back in her pristine high school uniform.
She had returned to the exact day she was supposed to fund Axel's startup.
This time, she ripped his business plan to shreds and walked straight out to find Dangelo.
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Chapter 3
The helicopter hovered directly over the Hilton. A massive searchlight mounted on the belly of the chopper snapped on, cutting through the darkness like a physical blade. The blinding white beam pinned the outdoor wedding reception to the ground.
Annabelle looked down through the glass. Axel was standing near the altar, shielding his eyes, frantically shouting at the hotel security guards to control the panicked crowd.
A wave of men dressed in black tactical gear flooded the venue from all sides. They moved with military precision, instantly disarming the hotel guards and forcing them to the ground.
Fay let out a piercing scream. She scrambled backward, hiding behind a massive champagne tower. Her haute couture gown dragged through the spilled red wine, soaking up the mud and alcohol until it looked like a dirty rag.
The helicopter touched down on the rooftop helipad. Dangelo carried Annabelle's body down the steps, his face an unreadable mask of stone.
The deputy kicked open the double doors to the penthouse presidential suite. They had converted the massive room into a secure holding area.
Dangelo laid her body on the pristine white sheets of the king bed. He spent a long moment straightening the collar of his suit jacket that still wrapped her shoulders.
When he turned away from the bed and walked toward the elevator, the gentleness vanished. His jaw ticked. He looked like a man walking to an execution.
Annabelle's soul phased through the closed door, desperate to follow him, needing to see the end of this.
The heavy oak doors of the ground-floor ballroom were kicked open. Dangelo walked into the room. The air around him felt like liquid nitrogen.
The Silicon Valley elite were kneeling on the floor, hands behind their heads, guns pointed at their backs. The silence in the room was absolute.
Axel pushed himself up from the floor, adjusting his cuffs in a pathetic attempt to regain control. "Valencia, what is this? You are disrupting a legal gathering. My lawyers will bury you."
Dangelo didn't speak. He closed the distance in three massive strides and drove his fist directly into Axel's face.
The wet, sharp crack of Axel's nose breaking echoed off the high ceilings.
Axel screamed, collapsing backward onto the marble floor. Before he could roll away, Dangelo's heavy leather shoe planted firmly on the center of his chest, pinning him down and cutting off his air supply.
Fay crawled out from behind the table, sobbing hysterically. She lunged at Dangelo's leg. The deputy stepped forward, his face an impassive mask of professional discipline. He seamlessly blocked her frantic path. With a swift, practiced move, he seized her flailing arm, twisted it firmly behind her back, and forced her down to her knees. He neutralized her completely without a single wasted movement or excessive violence, pinning her securely to the marble floor.
Dangelo didn't speak. He gave a sharp nod to his deputy. The deputy stepped forward and threw a ruggedized military tablet down hard onto the marble floor right in front of Axel's bloody face.
The screen flared to life. Hundreds of digital files began auto-scrolling across the display. Encrypted bank statements showing the forged financials. Digital wire transfer receipts to the mechanics who serviced the Alexander family jet.
The kneeling investors craned their necks. Gasps filled the room. The people who had been kissing Axel's ring ten minutes ago now looked at him like he was a disease.
Annabelle hovered above the chaos. The realization hit her chest like a physical weight. Dangelo hadn't just come to shoot them. He had spent months gathering the evidence to destroy them legally.
The wail of police sirens pierced the night air. Dangelo had orchestrated the official raid to coincide with his physical takeover.
Dozens of FBI agents swarmed into the ballroom. Dangelo slowly removed his foot from Axel's chest, stepping back with a look of utter disgust.
Axel spat blood onto the floor as the agents yanked his arms behind his back and slapped the steel cuffs on his wrists. "This is a setup! He planted this!" Axel screamed, his eyes wild.
Dangelo leaned in close. "Enjoy the general population block," he whispered, his voice carrying the finality of a judge's gavel.
Two female agents grabbed Fay by the arms and dragged her across the floor. Her ruined dress tore at the seams, exposing her legs as she sobbed and begged for someone to call her mother.
The revenge was complete. But as Dangelo watched them being dragged away, he didn't smile. His massive frame suddenly swayed.
The deputy rushed forward, grabbing Dangelo's bicep to keep him upright. "Sir. Your chest. The wound tore open again."
Annabelle drifted closer. Her breath caught in her non-existent throat. A dark, terrifying patch of red blood was rapidly expanding across the left side of Dangelo's crisp white shirt, right over his heart.
Dangelo shoved the deputy away. He turned his back on the FBI and walked toward the elevator. He was going back to the penthouse.
Inside the empty elevator car, the doors slid shut. Dangelo leaned his back against the cold metal wall. His legs gave out. He slid down until he hit the floor, pressing his hand hard against his bleeding chest.
With his clean hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, tarnished metal object. It was the St. Clair Prep School crest pin. The one Annabelle had lost four years ago.
He pressed the cold metal against his lips. A raw, guttural sob tore from his throat. The sound was so full of agony it felt like it ripped Annabelle's soul entirely in half.
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8.0
"Just ninety days, Viv. Then I have to marry her."
"And what am I supposed to do when the clock runs out?"
He's the meticulous, sterile CEO destined for a cold corporate marriage. She's the fiery, turpentine-scented artist who lives for chaos. Josh Sterling has been Vivian Rossi's safe harbor and secret heartbreak since they were ten.
But with his wedding just three months away, decades of tension finally explode. Terrified of losing their friendship but helpless against the attraction, they make a devastating bargain: 90 days. Friends with benefits. No feelings. No future
It was supposed to be a temporary goodbye to the 'what-ifs.' But as the days bleed into weeks, their arrangement becomes a seductive torture. Viv is forced to watch the man she loves prepare to marry another, and Josh must confront a terrifying truth, the only person who has ever truly seen him is the one he's set to abandon.
90 days with the man i can't have is a searing, high-emotion contemporary romance. When time runs out, duty and desire will clash, demanding the ultimate sacrifice.

9.7
Her marriage is sexless, cold, and full of humiliation. She stays in the suck marriage to collect her billionaire husband's money for build her own business, and plan her freedom. While he rides his mistress in their bed many times, she quietly turns his wealth into her weapon.
Years later, the wife everyone mocked becomes the world's first female trillionaire. When her bankrupt ex-husband kneels before her, willing to lick her dirt just to have her back, she smiles from her bathtub filled with money and says, "Ex-husband, I'm going to marry the second richest man in the world."

8.2
In a kingdom ruled by shadow magic, elemental fire wielders were slaughtered decades ago after a devastating rebellion.
Christabel is the last surviving Flamebound.
Prince William is the heir to the throne that ordered her people's execution.
When an ancient magic awakens one older than both flame and shadow they are forced into an alliance that neither of them wants.
But their powers react when they touch.
And prophecy whispers that only together can they save the kingdom...
Or burn it down.

9.4
Six years ago, Breanna was shoved into a pitch-black hotel suite by her own uncle.
She was forced to endure a brutal night with a drugged stranger just to keep her grandmother's ventilator running.
Nine months later, she gave birth in a cold underground clinic.
But her uncle immediately snatched the crying newborn from her trembling hands, coldly announcing the baby had died.
For six years, Breanna lived in agonizing grief, working as a lowly hotel cleaner just to survive.
But a cruel setup threw her directly into the path of Elliot Finch, the arrogant billionaire from that dark night.
He did not recognize the woman whose life he had completely ruined.
Instead, he looked at her like she was rotting garbage, had his guards drag her into a wet alley, and mercilessly got her fired.
"If I ever see your face again, I will make sure you cannot get a job cleaning toilets."
Breanna was suffocating from the injustice, stripped of her dignity and her family's only lifeline.
Yet, when she instinctively protected a traumatized little boy from bullies, she discovered he was Elliot's son.
The boy clung to her neck, crying and desperately begging his father to let her stay.
But Elliot just threw a massive check at her chest, violently accusing her of brainwashing a sick child for a meal ticket.
Looking at the toxic disgust in his eyes, something inside Breanna finally broke.
She picked up the check, ripped the millions into tiny shreds, and let them rain down on his expensive shoes.
"Keep your dirty money."
She turned her back on the crying boy and the stunned billionaire, deciding she would no longer be their victim.

8.5
Kaelyn spent three years believing Andrew loved her completely, until one overheard conversation shattered everything.
He had never returned for her. He had come back to save another woman, even if it meant taking Kaelyn's heart.
Humiliated and done with loving alone, she agreed to marry Theodore, the blind yet powerful heir chosen by his grandfather.
After the wedding, no matter how many times she tried, she just couldn't get past his walls.
Then at a banquet, her desperate ex came begging. Before Kaelyn could react, Theodore drew her into his arms and murmured, "Giving up already? Try again. I'm ready to surrender."

8.3
Sandra was a mistress: a temporary escape for billionaire David Kingsley.
But in the shadows of his study, "temporary" turned into a dangerous addiction.
When David brutally casts her back into the poverty she fought to escape, Sandra plays her final card: a lie about a pregnancy to keep him tied to her.
The lie becomes a terrifying reality just as David announces his "perfect" life is expanding with a child of his own.
Now, Sandra isn't just a discarded mistress; she's a woman with a secret that could topple an empire.
How far will a woman go when she has nothing left to lose but the life growing inside her?