Reborn Heiress: Taming My Ruthless CEO

Freezing rain lashed against the marble headstones of the Sterling City cemetery.

Three black, bulletproof SUVs rammed through the rusted iron gates. The metal shrieked, giving way to the heavy vehicles that tore up the muddy main path.

Corbin Mendez stepped out of the lead vehicle. He wore a tailored black trench coat. His expensive leather shoes sank into a puddle, splashing freezing mud over his cuffs. He didn't blink.

Alex Stone hurried to his side, opening a large black umbrella to shield him from the downpour.

Corbin shoved him away. The motion was violent, sending Alex stumbling back.

Corbin walked straight toward the mausoleum of Alana Lamb. His eyes were entirely bloodshot, the vessels broken and stark against his pale skin.

The groundskeeper ran forward, waving his flashlight and shouting. Two of Corbin's bodyguards slammed the man face-first into the mud. The wet thud of the impact was swallowed by the thunder.

Corbin stood before the heavy stone doors of the tomb. He pointed a shaking finger at the stone cross carved into the center.

"Break it down," Corbin ordered. His voice was a guttural rasp, stripped of any humanity.

Three men stepped forward with sledgehammers. They swung. The heavy iron heads crashed into the stone. A dull, sickening crack echoed through the graveyard.

Hovering near the ceiling of the tomb, the translucent soul of Alana Lamb watched. Her non-existent heart seized. She stared down at the man she had spent her entire life despising.

The stone doors crumbled, collapsing inward with a deafening roar.

Corbin didn't wait for the dust to settle. He walked into the damp, dark chamber.

He stopped in front of the cold, ebony casket. His broad shoulders hitched. He reached out, his large hands trembling violently as his fingertips traced the polished wood of the lid.

Alex stood at the ruined entrance. "Sir, please. The entire city will be after us for this. We have to leave."

Corbin pulled the heavy pistol from his waistband. He flicked off the safety, turned, and fired a single shot into the stone floor, an inch from Alex's foot.

The gunshot deafened the small space.

Alana's soul flinched, a phantom shudder ripping through her. His madness terrified her. It always had.

Corbin dropped the gun. He dug his bare fingers into the seam of the heavy casket lid. He pushed. The veins in his neck bulged. His fingernails cracked under the pressure, splitting down the middle. Blood welled up, smearing against the dark wood.

The lid slid off and crashed to the floor.

Corbin looked down. He saw her. Alana's lifeless, pale body resting on the white satin.

His massive frame collapsed. His knees hit the hard stone floor with a bone-jarring thud.

He reached in with his bleeding, ruined fingers. He carefully, reverently, cupped her freezing cheeks.

He leaned down. He pressed his lips against her dry, dead mouth. The kiss was desperately gentle, a stark contrast to the monster he was known to be.

Alana's soul watched from above. An invisible hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing until she felt she might suffocate all over again.

"My love," Corbin whispered against her dead lips. His voice broke. "I'm too late."

He turned his head toward the door. The grief in his eyes vanished, replaced by the hollow, dead stare of a demon.

"Kill them all," Corbin commanded Alex. "Every single person who pushed her to this. Wipe them off the earth."

Alex swallowed hard, nodded, and backed away. He pulled the heavy doors shut as best he could, leaving Corbin alone in the tomb.

Corbin reached into the pocket of his wet trench coat. He pulled out a transparent, unmarked pill bottle. It was filled to the brim with white opioid tablets.

Alana's soul screamed. She dove toward him, throwing her hands out to swat the bottle away. Her fingers passed right through his solid chest.

Corbin popped the cap. He tipped the bottle back and poured the entire contents into his mouth. He didn't have water. He just swallowed, his throat working hard to force the lethal dose down.

He climbed into the casket. He lay down beside her cold body and pulled her into his chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, burying his face in her hair.

He closed his eyes.

Minutes passed. The violent shivering in his body slowed. His breathing turned shallow, then stopped completely. A faint, peaceful smile rested on his lips.

Alana let out a wail of pure agony. The regret tore through her soul, ripping her apart piece by piece.

A blinding, piercing white light erupted from the center of her chest, swallowing the tomb, the casket, and the dead man who loved her.