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Reborn Heiress: The Wall Street Titan's Bride Novel Cover

Reborn Heiress: The Wall Street Titan's Bride

Alaia Dudley spent her life playing the devoted partner, completely unaware that her fiancé Austen was sleeping with another woman. She thought the worst he could do was break her heart, until she found herself pinned to a cold operating table. Austen held her down with a cruel smirk while a scalpel sliced through her sternum. They cracked her chest open while she was still fully conscious. The agonizing pain of her heart being cut out burned into her nerve endings. She realized then that to him, she was never a lover—just a spare organ, a boring piece of wood to be discarded the second his true love needed it. She died in excruciating agony, choking on her own blood while the man she loved walked away with her heart. Until her last breath, she didn't understand why she had to suffer so brutally. Why did she waste her life begging for a monster's attention? Why did they get a happy ending while she was carved up like an animal? But then, ice-cold water flooded her lungs, and Alaia violently broke the surface of her bathwater. Her trembling fingers touched her smooth, flawless chest. No scars. Her heart was still beating. The date on her phone glared back at her: it was exactly five years ago. Tonight was the exact night Austen first took his mistress to a hotel room. This time, she wouldn't just expose them. She would use Wall Street's most terrifying tyrant as her personal weapon to strip them of everything they had.
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Chapter 4

Gabriel pulled his gaze away from Alaia and looked back down at Evelyn. The mockery in his eyes was absolute.

"Your family begged for a capital injection from the Alvarado Group," Gabriel stated, his voice a slow, lethal drawl. "They offered you up like cheap takeout to secure the deal. And this is how you repay the investment?"

Evelyn's face turned the color of ash. She had spent months convincing Austen she was the heir to a pristine, old-money dynasty. Gabriel had just ripped her clothes off in public, exposing her as a desperate pawn.

Austen stumbled backward, putting distance between himself and Evelyn. He pointed a shaking finger at her. "You... you lied to me?" His face contorted with a mix of humiliation and rage.

Evelyn scrambled forward on her knees, reaching for Austen's pant leg. "Austen, no, let me explain-"

Austen kicked his leg out, violently shaking her off. "Get off me!" he spat. Evelyn fell hard onto the floor, one of her designer heels snapping off in the struggle.

Gabriel stood with his hands casually shoved into his suit pockets. He watched the two of them tear each other apart with the detached amusement of a man watching monkeys in a cage. A cruel smirk played on his lips.

Alaia watched Gabriel. She saw the dark entertainment in his eyes. Her mind raced. He wasn't just here to break off an engagement; he was here to watch the Montgomery family burn. He was the perfect weapon.

She stood up straight, intentionally sucking in a sharp breath through her teeth. She reached around and pressed her hand against her lower back, right where Austen had slammed her into the marble.

Her voice cut through the pathetic sobbing on the floor. It was cold and sharp.

"Austen," Alaia said, staring dead into his eyes. "That was assault."

Austen snapped his head toward her, his chest heaving. Habit took over. He opened his mouth to scream at her, to force her into submission like he always did.

Alaia didn't back down. She took a step toward him. "There are fifty reporters right outside those doors. If I walk out there right now and call the police for a medical exam, you won't just be a cheater. You'll be a domestic abuser."

Austen's face went from pale to a sickly green. His public image was his entire life. The threat hit him right in the jugular.

Gabriel raised a single, dark eyebrow. He looked at Alaia, a spark of genuine interest igniting in his cold eyes. He liked her bloodless, transactional approach. No screaming. No tears. Just leverage.

Alaia turned her head and met Gabriel's gaze. Her tone shifted, becoming the calm, measured voice of a negotiator.

"Mr. Alvarado," Alaia said softly. "Do you mind if I collect a personal debt first?"

Gabriel didn't say a word. He simply took one step to the side, clearing her path to Austen. His silence was a heavy, undeniable permission. It was an indulgence.

Alaia turned back to Austen. "You hurt my back. You're going to pay for it with your own body."

Austen let out a breathless, hysterical laugh. "You're insane! I'll blackball you in this industry! You'll never work again!"

Alaia smirked. She pointed a manicured finger at Evelyn, who was weeping on the floor. "If you don't satisfy my terms right now, I will walk out there and tell the press that your little true love is a corporate bargaining chip for the Alvarado Group."

Evelyn shrieked. "No! Austen, please!" She wrapped her arms around Austen's calves, sobbing hysterically.

Austen looked down at the crying woman, then up at Gabriel, who was watching him with dead eyes. Austen knew if he didn't submit, these two would bury him alive.

Every muscle in Austen's body shook. He squeezed his eyes shut, his jaw clenching so hard his teeth ground together. "Fine," he growled. "Do it."

Alaia looked at his pathetic, trembling form. The hatred in her chest demanded blood, but she didn't want to break her own hand on his face.

She looked down at her expensive silk gown and her stiletto heels. She frowned slightly. Hitting him herself would be messy.

She turned her head. Her eyes landed on Gabriel's large, powerful hands. A reckless, brilliant idea formed in her mind.

She walked right up to Gabriel. She tilted her head back to look into his eyes, lowering her voice so only he could hear.

"Would you do it for me?" she whispered.

Gabriel stared down at the audacious woman in front of him. A dangerous, thrilling light flared in his blue eyes. No one had ever dared to use him as a weapon before.

Alaia held his gaze. She didn't flinch. Her eyes sent a clear message: Help me, and the enemy of my enemy is my friend.

The air between them went dead silent for three agonizing seconds.

Then, Gabriel let out a low, dark chuckle. The sound was deep and magnetic, vibrating straight through Alaia's chest.

He slowly reached up and unbuttoned his suit jacket. He slid it off his broad shoulders and tossed it carelessly onto a nearby wicker chair.

Gabriel rolled up the crisp white sleeves of his dress shirt, revealing thick, corded forearms. He turned and took a slow, deliberate step toward Austen.

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