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Reborn Heiress: My Ruthless Tycoon’s Revenge Novel Cover

Reborn Heiress: My Ruthless Tycoon’s Revenge

I lay on the wet asphalt, the cold rain mixing with the metallic taste of blood pooling in my mouth. My lungs were heavy, filling with fluid as my life ebbed away. Through swollen eyelids, I saw my lover, Clovis, and my stepsister, Alanna, standing over me with looks of pure triumph. "Thanks for the trust fund, sister," Alanna whispered, shoving a phone screen in front of my dying eyes. The headline was a jagged blade to my soul: Caesar Williamson, the "tyrant" husband I had fled from, was dead in a multi-car collision. He had died trying to rescue me, thinking I was in danger. The realization shattered what was left of my heart. The man I had spent years painting as a monster had driven into hell to save me, while the man I thought was my safety was the one who had just crushed my ribs with an iron bar. I had played right into their hands, ruining my reputation and my marriage for a lie. I watched them walk away, leaving me to choke on my own blood in the dark, discarded like a bag of trash. I wanted to scream, to beg the universe for a rewind button, to tell Caesar I was sorry. The darkness pressed down on me, heavier than the betrayal, as my world finally went black. Then, I was screaming. I shot up in bed, gasping for air like a drowning woman breaking the surface. I scrambled at my abdomen—smooth skin, no blood, no tear. I grabbed my phone and saw the date: it was three years ago, the morning of my wedding to the Williamson estate. I didn't waste a second. I scrubbed the "unstable" makeup from my face, threw on a white silk dress, and blocked the man who would eventually kill me. This time, I wasn't running away from the manor. I was going back to the husband I had once feared, ready to save the only man who had ever truly loved me.
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Chapter 3

Athena stood alone in the hallway until a woman in a stiff grey uniform materialized from a side door. Her hair was pulled back so tightly it pulled at the corners of her eyes.

"Miss Madden," the woman said. She didn't smile. "I am Mrs. Potts, the housekeeper. The Master didn't expect you to actually... arrive. The mistress's suite isn't ready."

"It's Mrs. Williamson," Athena corrected softly.

Mrs. Potts didn't blink. "There is a guest room at the end of the first-floor corridor. It's the only one available."

She turned on her heel, expecting Athena to follow. Athena did.

They walked away from the grand staircase, down a narrow, dimly lit hallway that smelled of damp earth. Mrs. Potts opened a door at the very end.

It was a storage room masquerading as a bedroom. The furniture was covered in dust sheets. The air was stagnant and freezing.

Athena walked in and touched the radiator. Stone cold.

"Apologies," Mrs. Potts said, her voice dripping with false polite regret. "The heating system in this wing is under repair. The technician won't be here until next week."

It was the same game they had played in her previous life. Back then, Athena had screamed. She had thrown a vase. She had stormed out and called Clovis, crying about the abuse.

Athena turned to the housekeeper and smiled. "That's fine. I prefer it cool."

Mrs. Potts's smug expression faltered. She looked like she had swallowed a lemon.

"Dinner is at seven," Potts snapped, then left, closing the door a little too hard.

Athena waited until the footsteps faded. She touched the bed; the sheets felt damp. Sleeping here would guarantee pneumonia by morning.

She wasn't going to sleep here.

She slipped out of the room and headed for the main staircase. She knew the layout of the house better than she should. She knew where the master suite was.

On the landing, she ran into Derik.

"Ma'am," he said, his body blocking the path to the east wing. "You shouldn't be up here."

"I was looking for water," Athena said, her face the picture of innocence. "The kitchen downstairs was locked."

Derik hesitated. He pointed toward a sitting room. "There's a carafe in there."

"Thank you."

She walked toward the sitting room until Derik turned the corner to continue his patrol. Then, she doubled back. She moved silently toward the heavy mahogany double doors at the end of the east hall.

From inside, she heard a sound that made her chest ache.

A deep, wet, suppressed cough. A sound of agony.

She stopped, her hand hovering over the wood.

"You don't belong here."

A hiss came from behind her. A young maid, Emily, stood holding a tray with a silver tea set. Her eyes were wide with jealousy and malice. Emily, the girl who thought she could be the next lady of the manor if Caesar just noticed her devotion.

"Get away from his door," Emily whispered.

Athena looked at the tray. Steam curled from the spout of the teapot.

"I have terrible cramps," Athena said, clutching her stomach. "I need hot water."

Emily's eyes darted to the master bedroom door, then back to Athena. A cruel idea sparked in her gaze. Everyone knew Caesar's bedroom was forbidden. Entering uninvited was a death sentence.

"There's a bathroom in there," Emily said, pointing at the mahogany doors. "With plenty of hot water. Help yourself."

She was sending a lamb to the slaughter.

Athena looked at the maid, reading the trap perfectly. "Thank you, Emily. You're too kind."

Athena turned the handle. It was unlocked. She slipped inside, leaving a stunned and gleeful Emily in the hallway.

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