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Reborn Heiress: Revenge On My Wedding Day Novel Cover

Reborn Heiress: Revenge On My Wedding Day

I lay paralyzed in a luxury Swiss clinic, my body a heavy sack of meat I no longer controlled. The heart monitor’s rhythmic beep was the only thing louder than the silence, a mocking countdown to my inevitable end. My fiancé, Jordan, walked in looking impeccable in the custom suit I had bought him for his birthday. He wasn't alone; my best friend, Chloe, followed him into the room, wearing the vintage Givenchy dress I had saved for our anniversary gala. Jordan didn't look like a grieving man; he looked bored as he held up a blue folder confirming that my family's offshore trust had finally cleared. Chloe giggled, leaning over me to ask if I finally realized it was the engagement wine she had spiked seven days ago. Jordan brushed a cold hand over my forehead, calling me a "perfect little asset" before pulling Chloe into a hungry kiss right over my dying body. To ensure there was no turning back, he pulled out a silver lighter and set my living will on fire, watching the only document that could have saved me turn to ash. I tried to scream, to curse them both to hell for stealing my life and my legacy, but all that came out was a wet, rattling wheeze. My own father, I would later learn, had known about the takeover and chose the profit over his own daughter's life. As the darkness swallowed me whole, I made a silent, desperate promise: if there was anything after this, I would come back and destroy every single one of them. I gasped, my body jerking upright as air rushed into my lungs like liquid fire. I wasn't in Switzerland, and there was no poison in my veins. I was back in my Manhattan bedroom, staring at a phone that read June 12—the morning of the wedding, the day I was supposed to die, and the day I decided to burn their world to the ground.
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Chapter 3

The Maybach glided to a halt at the service entrance of The Plaza Hotel. The tinted windows turned the bright afternoon sun into a dull gray gloom.

"The paparazzi are swarming the front," Kane said. He didn't look at Aria. He was watching the mirrors, his eyes darting back and forth.

"Good," Aria said. "Let them wait."

Aria touched the earpiece in her right ear. "I need the security feed for the VIP suite. The Penthouse level."

Kane looked at Aria then. "You want me to hack the hotel?"

"I want you to do what you do when you think I'm asleep," Aria said. "Don't pretend, Kane. We don't have time."

He held Aria's gaze for a second, assessing. Then he nodded. He pulled a laptop from under his seat. His fingers flew across the keyboard. It wasn't the typing of a layman. It was a blur.

"I need physical access to the server room to bypass the hardline encryption," he said. "Third floor."

"Go," Aria said. "I'll handle the board."

Kane got out of the car. He didn't walk like a driver. He moved like a ghost. He slipped through the service door and vanished into the shadows of the corridor.

Aria took a breath. The nausea was rising again, a reminder that her timeline was physical, not just strategic. She pushed the door open and stepped onto the red carpet of the back hallway.

Three members of the Hubbard-Daniels board were standing near the kitchen entrance, looking lost.

"Gentlemen," Aria said, flashing a smile that felt like baring teeth.

"Aria!" Mr. Henderson, the CFO, looked relieved. "We were told the ceremony was delayed. Is everything alright?"

"Everything is perfect," Aria lied. "But before we start, I have a merger demonstration. A surprise. It's upstairs in the VIP suite. You need to see this."

Greed is a powerful motivator. They followed Aria without question.

They took the elevator to the penthouse. As the numbers climbed, Aria texted the reporter she had tipped off an hour ago. Now.

The elevator pinged. They stepped out.

Aria stood in front of the double mahogany doors of Suite 1001. Her hand hovered over the brass handle. Her heart was hammering against her ribs, but her hand was rock steady.

"This," Aria said to the board members, "is the future of our company."

In her earpiece, Kane's voice crackled. "You're live. Main ballroom screen is overridden. Audio is hot."

Aria threw the doors open.

The scene inside was a cliché, but clichés are effective for a reason.

Jordan was on the bed. Chloe was straddling him. They were half-naked, a tangle of limbs and expensive sheets. A bottle of champagne lay overturned on the floor, soaking into the carpet.

Chloe screamed. It was a high, piercing shriek. She scrambled for a sheet, pulling it up to her neck.

Jordan rolled off the bed, tripping over his own pants. He crashed into a side table, sending a lamp smashing to the floor.

"What the-" Jordan stared at them. Then he saw the board members. His face drained of color.

Behind Aria, cameras flashed. The reporter had slipped in with the board.

Aria didn't yell. She didn't cry. She just watched.

"Is this the merger strategy?" Aria asked, her voice calm.

Downstairs, in the grand ballroom, five hundred guests were watching this on a forty-foot LED screen. Aria could imagine the collective gasp.

Jordan scrambled to his feet, holding a pillow over his crotch. "Aria! Aria, wait! This isn't-"

"Isn't what?" Aria held up her tablet. "A violation of the morality clause in the pre-merger agreement? Section 4, paragraph 2?"

She tapped the screen.

"As of this moment, Hubbard-Daniels is exercising its right to terminate the merger due to gross misconduct by the Sloan acting CEO."

"You can't do that!" Chloe yelled. She looked pathetic, shivering under the sheet. "We love each other!"

"Love doesn't vest for three years, Chloe," Aria said.

She turned to the board members. They looked horrified. Disgusted.

"Is this the man you want running my grandfather's legacy?" Aria asked. "A man who can't even keep his zipper up for a wedding?"

Mr. Henderson shook his head. He turned his back on the room.

"Showtime is over," Kane's voice said in Aria's ear. "Extraction ready. North stairwell."

The adrenaline crashed. The room spun. The floor tilted.

Aria turned on her heel and walked out. She kept her chin high until she rounded the corner.

Her knees buckled.

Strong hands caught her before she hit the ground.

Kane was there. He held her up by her elbows, his grip iron-hard. He looked at Aria's face, scanning her pupils.

"Breathe," he ordered.

Aria leaned into him, just for a second. "Did they see?"

"Everyone saw," Kane said. "The internet is melting."

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