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Reborn Rich, My Vengeance Rises Novel Cover

Reborn Rich, My Vengeance Rises

My husband, Ethan Vance, made me his trophy wife. My best friend, Susanna Thorne, helped me pick out my wedding dress. Together, they made me a fool. For three years, I was Mrs. Ethan Vance, a decorative silence in his billion-dollar world, living a quiet routine until a forgotten phone charger led me to his office. The low, feminine laugh from behind his door was a gut-punch; inside, I found Ethan and Susanna, my "best friend" and his CMO, tangled on his sofa, his only reaction irritation. My divorce declaration brought immediate scorn and threats. I was fired, my accounts frozen, and publicly smeared as an unstable gold-digger. Even my own family disowned me for my last cent, only for me to be framed for assault and served a restraining order. Broke, injured, and utterly demonized, they believed I was broken, too ashamed to fight. But their audacious betrayal and relentless cruelty only forged a cold, unyielding resolve. Slumped alone, a restraining order in hand, I remembered my hidden journal: a log of Ethan's insider trading secrets. They wanted a monster? I would show them one.
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Chapter 6

Julian Thorne's office was larger than the apartment Seraphina had shared with Ethan. One wall was entirely glass, offering a panoramic view of Central Park, lush and green against the grey city.

"Sit," Julian commanded, pointing to a leather chair that looked like it cost more than her life savings.

Seraphina sat. She placed her manila folder on the desk. "Thank you for the assist downstairs."

Julian walked to a wet bar in the corner. He poured two glasses of sparkling water. No ice. "I wasn't assisting you. I was protecting the decorum of my firm. Screaming matches are bad for business."

Seraphina froze. "I didn't scream."

Julian walked over and placed the glass in front of her. He leaned against the edge of his desk, crossing his long legs. "No. You didn't. You were remarkably quiet for someone being publicly humiliated."

He took a sip of water, his eyes over the rim of the glass never leaving hers. "Most people would have cried. Or shouted back. You just... endured."

Seraphina took a sip of water to hide her nervousness. He was observant. "I've learned that shouting doesn't help."

Julian smirked. It transformed his face, making him look younger, dangerous in a different way. "Let's see if your folder is as interesting as your stoicism."

He picked up her file. He opened it.

Silence stretched for five minutes as he read. He didn't skim. He absorbed.

Finally, he looked up. His eyes were sharp. "These sketches... the chemical compounds. You claim these are yours?"

"They are," Seraphina said. "I developed the base formula for the bio-adhesive three years ago. In my kitchen."

Julian tapped the desk with his index finger. "And Vance claims it's his because you wrote it down in his house?"

"In his office. I was volunteering in the archives. I used scrap paper."

"Sloppy," Julian critiqued. "Intellectual property law is brutal. Without a patent in your name, this is an uphill battle."

"I have dates," she said. "Timestamps on my cloud backups. They predate his patent filing by six months."

Suddenly, Julian's assistant knocked and entered, looking pale. "Mr. Thorne. You need to see this. It's trending."

She handed him a tablet.

Julian looked at the screen. His jaw tightened. He turned the tablet around so Seraphina could see.

It was a tweet from Susanna.

Just saw Seraphina Reed harassing us at our lawyer's office. She's stalking Ethan. So sad to see someone fall so low.

Below it was a video-taken by someone in the lobby. It showed the guard approaching Seraphina, making her look like a threat. It cut off right before Julian arrived.

The comments were scrolling by so fast they were a blur.

Lock her up!

She looks crazy.

Look at her cheap suit. Obviously a gold digger.

"They play dirty," Julian said quietly.

Seraphina looked at the screen. She felt a wave of nausea, but she pushed it down. "They want to break me socially. They want me to be too ashamed to fight."

"Does it bother you?" Julian asked, watching her reaction closely.

Seraphina looked up at him. Her eyes were dry. "I don't have a reputation to lose, Mr. Thorne. They do."

Julian laughed. It was a genuine, deep sound that rumbled in his chest. "I like that. I'll take the case."

Seraphina blinked. "You will? But I can't pay your retainer."

"We'll work on a contingency," he said, his business mask sliding back into place. "Thirty percent of the settlement."

"Twenty," she countered instantly.

Julian raised an eyebrow. "You're haggling? You have zero leverage."

"I have the truth. And you hate Ethan Vance's shoes."

"Twenty-five," Julian conceded, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "And dinner."

Seraphina paused. "Dinner?"

"Business dinner," he said smoothly. "Tonight. To discuss strategy. We have a lot of work to do to clean up your image if we're going to put you in front of a judge."

"Deal." She stood up and extended her hand.

Julian took it. His hand was large, warm, and firm.

"Be ready at 7. I'm picking you up."

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