Reborn Surgeon: The Billionaire’s Secret Obsession
Standing on the edge of a limestone quarry in the pouring rain, I thought we were just having another family argument.
Then my mother, Ardell, screamed that I’d let the life insurance lapse, and my brother, Hakeem, stepped out of the shadows with a cold, calculating look in his eyes.
I told them I knew the truth—that Hakeem had cut the brake lines on my father’s car—but they didn't flinch. Instead, Hakeem shoved me hard, sending me tumbling into the abyss.
I hit a jagged ledge thirty feet down, the sound of my spine snapping like a dry branch echoing through the rain. As I lay paralyzed and broken, my mother watched from above, asking if I was dead yet, before Hakeem whistled for the starving wild dogs that lived in the quarry floor.
"Nature will clean up the mess,"
Hakeem said, walking away while the first set of teeth sank into my throat.
The agony was a tidal wave, but the rage was hotter, a nuclear hatred for the family that stole my future and the daughter I’d never see grow up. I died in that dirt, consumed by fire and teeth, wondering how a mother could choose a car payment over her own child's life.
But then, I gasped for air, sitting bolt upright in my old trailer bedroom. I looked at the calendar: May 12, 2014.
I was seventeen again, but I wasn't the same girl. Inside this malnourished body was the mind of a world-class trauma surgeon and the elite hacker known as 'Phantom.'
This time, I wasn't going to the quarry; I was going for their throats.
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Chapter 9
Manhattan. The 40th floor of the Norton Tower.
Bertrand Norton sat at the head of a mahogany table. Lawyers droned on about liability caps.
His phone vibrated.
He ignored it.
It vibrated again. A pattern he had set for high-priority alerts.
He glanced down.
Mrs. Norton.
His lip curled in disgust. Another stalker. He'd had his security team block a dozen accounts with similar names. He moved his thumb to block and delete.
Then he read the message.
Subsection 44.c.
His thumb froze over the screen. It was too specific to be a guess. He swiped open the digital contract on his tablet. He scrolled, his eyes scanning the dense legal text.
It was buried in legal jargon, hidden in a footnote about pension liabilities. A clause that triggered a massive debt recall if the stock price dipped below a certain point.
It was a trap. A billion-dollar trap.
And his entire legal team, the best money could buy, had missed it.
Bertrand stood up. "Stop the meeting."
The room went silent.
He walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, his back to the room. "Trace this number. Now," he subvocalized into his watch. "I want to know who sent it."
An analyst's voice came back through a hidden earpiece a moment later. "Sir, it's untraceable. Bounced through a dozen proxies on three continents. The last physical access point was a public terminal in a place called… CyberZone Café in Northwood."
Bertrand's jaw tightened. Northwood. That wasteland.
"Any assets of interest in the area?" he asked.
"Negative, sir. It's a dead end. However… cross-referencing social media, Camisha Walters posted a photo from the coffee shop next door to that café three minutes ago. Could be a coincidence."
Camisha Walters. The ambitious, conniving daughter of a rival. Of course. It made perfect, sickening sense. A power play.
He turned back to his phone. This was a dangerous game she was playing. He texted back, his words clipped and cold.
Who is this?
...
CyberZone Café.
Karly saw the reply.
Who is this?
She started to type.
Your future.
Suddenly, the doors flew open.
"Nobody move! Police!"
Flashlights cut through the gloom, beams dancing across the faces of shocked teenagers. Principal Higgins strode in, flanked by two officers.
"There she is!" Holli shouted, pointing dramatically. "The girl in the corner! She has the drugs!"
Karly yanked the USB drive. She slipped it into her shoe.
She grabbed the bag of flour she had prepared earlier-a small Ziploc baggie she kept in her pocket.
In the split second of chaos as everyone froze under the flashlight beams, she saw Holli's hand dart toward her backpack on the floor.
Karly moved with a surgeon's precision. She grabbed Holli's wrist, her grip like steel. She twisted, a sharp, controlled motion that forced a gasp of pain from Holli. Using the same motion, Karly's other hand, its movements masked by her own body and the folds of her sleeve, shoved the flour baggie deep into Holli's open designer purse. It was over before the first officer took a step toward them.
The lights flickered back on.
Principal Higgins stood over Karly. "Ms. Lowe. I received a disturbing report."
"Principal Higgins?" Karly looked up, eyes wide and innocent. "I'm just studying."
She gestured to the pile of biology notes. The highlighted pages.
"Studying in a place like this?" Higgins scoffed. "Search her bag."
The officer dumped Karly's backpack. Books. Pens. A half-eaten sandwich.
Nothing illegal.
Higgins frowned. He looked at Holli. "You said she was dealing."
"She is!" Holli shrieked. "Check her pockets! Check the floor!"
"Check her purse," Karly said softly. She pointed at Holli.
"What?" Holli laughed nervously. "Don't be stupid."
The officer grabbed Holli's designer bag. He upended it.
Lipstick. iPhone. Wallet.
And a bag of white powder.
The room went dead silent.
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8.1
One contract. Two worlds. Zero room for the heart.
Elena "Ellie" Morrison is a master of the mask. By night, she's the witty, guarded bartender at the city's most exclusive lounge. By day, she's a woman drowning in debt, fighting a losing battle against her brother's mounting medical bills and a past that haunts her every step. She doesn't have time for romance, especially not with a man like Alexander Hartley.
Alexander Hartley is a man who buys what he wants.
As the icy CEO of a global empire, Alex lives by logic, duty, and the rigid expectations of his powerful family. He's already engaged to a woman who matches his status-a marriage of convenience designed to secure his legacy. But when he sees the fire behind Ellie's eyes, he makes her an offer she can't afford to refuse:
Become his mistress. He will pay for everything. But he will give her nothing.
The rules are simple: No public appearances. No expectations. And absolutely no feelings.
But as the lines between their agreement and their reality begin to blur, Ellie discovers that Alex is hiding more than just his engagement. Behind his storm-gray eyes lies a man as lonely as she is. In a world of gilded cages and corporate secrets, they must decide if they are willing to burn down their lives for the one thing that wasn't in the contract...
Love.
9.5
Elena's world crumbles when she finds out her husband, Alex, has been cheating on her. After confronting him, he doesn't show regret; rather he demands for a divorce and she walks away for good, giving up her marriage and the career she carefully built.
To move on, she strikes an unexpected deal: a contract marriage with Max, who turns out to be Alex's past rival.
But just as Elena begins to rebuild her life, Alex realizes what he lost-and wants her back.
But Elena isn't the same woman he once knew and she is not alone anymore.
8.6
For years, Elvera lived as the despised charity case in the cramped Wright household.
When she caught her foster sister Donita straddling her fiancé, they didn't even panic. Instead, they loudly framed Elvera for stealing a diamond necklace to justify kicking her out.
Her foster parents immediately sided with the cheaters, screaming at her to pack her trash and starve in the gutters. Only her dying foster brother tried to sneak her his medical savings, but the family violently shoved him away, mocking him as a walking corpse.
Standing in the freezing Brooklyn wind, Donita and Crockett followed her outside just to laugh. They waved a crisp twenty-dollar bill in her face, mocking her biological family as a bunch of unemployed street thugs.
They really thought she was going to freeze to death on the pavement with nothing but a faded backpack.
But then a roaring, matte-black supercar pulled up.
The man who stepped out wasn't a street thug; he was her real brother, an FBI task force commander.
He effortlessly snapped Crockett's shoulder out of its socket, put Elvera in the passenger seat, and drove her straight to a sprawling billionaire estate in the Hamptons.
Sitting by the fire in her biological parents' palace, watching them casually display an eight-million-dollar sculpture she had secretly designed, the head butler suddenly walked in.
"Sir, the fake heiress has returned from Europe."
Elvera took a slow sip of her coffee. The real game was finally about to begin.
9.0
Framed for corporate spying, Liana Bennett was arrested and murdered in a prison cell.
Now she wakes in her old life, exactly one month before the set up.
She has one month to identify the traitor inside her company who orchestrated her death before they do it again. The enemy is already watching, already moving.
Every change she makes to rewrite comes at a price: a core memory erased. One wrong step, and she loses the very truth she needs to survive.
Then there's Raphael Blackthorne, The ruthless CEO of her rival company, the man she spent a reckless night with, and now the person offering her flowers, dinners, and sincerity.
Liana has a plan.
She can't afford the distraction.
But as her memories unravel and the enemy closes in, she faces the truth she can't outrun: to survive, she may have to become someone who no longer remembers why she fought at all.
9.5
For twenty years, Krista lived as the perfect daughter of the wealthy Cain family.
But a single DNA report shattered her entire world. Her adoptive parents coldly declared she was just a mistake and immediately replaced her with the true bloodline.
Desperate, she ran through the freezing rain to find her fiancé, only to hear him laughing with his friends.
"Marry a fake? I don't collect the Cain family's second-hand trash."
She slapped him, threw her diamond ring at his chest, and stumbled into a jazz lounge to drown her pain.
Drunk and heartbroken, she accidentally crashed into a stranger, clinging to him like a lifeline, which ended in a wild night in a luxury penthouse.
When she woke up, she realized the man she had ravaged was Jasper Stone, the most ruthless, cold-blooded billionaire on Wall Street.
At the same time, her phone lit up with notifications. Her bank accounts were frozen, and the Cain family had just released a brutal public statement permanently cutting her off.
She was completely abandoned, stripped of her home, her family, and her dignity in a single night. Why was twenty years of loyalty erased so easily?
But instead of kicking her out, Jasper tossed a prenuptial agreement onto the bed.
"Pay off your debt with marriage. Stay, and you are the untouchable Mrs. Stone."
Looking at the contract, Krista wiped her tears, put on bold red lipstick, and signed her name.
7.4
In my past life, I swallowed a handful of pills because my billionaire husband, Holt, treated me like invisible decoration, and my ex-lover, Cary, promised me a way out.
But as I lay choking on my own vomit in a burning Brooklyn warehouse, the brutal truth was finally revealed.
Cary was just using me to drain Holt's assets, and the mastermind behind my tragic downfall was my best friend of ten years, Lilith.
She had spent years feeding my insecurities, convincing me that suicide was my only escape, just so she could use my death to humiliate my husband and steal his empire.
When Holt rushed into the flames to save me, they shot him dead. His blood soaked my dress as Cary and Lilith walked away with everything we owned.
Until my last breath, I couldn't understand it.
Why did my best friend want me dead? Who were the shadowy backers funding their betrayal, and why did they hate my husband so much?
Opening my eyes again, I was back in my bedroom, the lethal pills still sitting on my nightstand.
The pathetic, weeping socialite died in that fire.
I calmly flushed the pills down the toilet, opened my laptop to awaken my hidden intelligence network, and prepared to destroy them all.