Reborn To Claim My CEO Husband
Elliana Lewis lay dying on the freezing concrete of a federal penitentiary, her ribs shattered by a guard's heavy boot.
She had been flawlessly framed for murder by the one person she trusted with her life: her sweet, innocent stepsister, Jovita.
During her final prison visit, Jovita wore their mother's diamonds and smiled cruelly behind the glass. She revealed she had liquidated the family company, caused their father's stroke, and paid the guards to ensure Elliana suffered a grueling, agonizing death.
"Your marriage was a joke from day one, Ellie. You have nothing left."
As her lungs stopped, the tragic truth finally dawned on Elliana. She had spent months screaming for a divorce and publicly humiliating her billionaire husband, Damon Stirling, believing his silence was weakness. She didn't realize until it was too late that his endless tolerance was the deepest form of protection. She had pushed away the only man who would have burned the world down to keep her safe.
Why had she been so incredibly stupid? Why did she blindly trust a monster and destroy the only person who truly loved her?
Then, a blinding light pierced her retinas. Elliana bolted upright, gasping for air on a massive, king-sized bed.
There was no pain. No broken bones. The digital clock on the nightstand flashed a date from exactly ten years ago.
It was the morning after her disastrous wedding night.
This time, she would tear Jovita's life apart piece by piece. And she would hold onto Damon so tightly that nothing could ever pry them apart.
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Chapter 2
Elliana stared at the woman standing in the doorway.
The memories of the prison floor, the shattered ribs, and the taste of her own blood violently crashed into her skull. Her fingernails dug so deeply into her palms that the skin nearly broke. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird.
She wanted to lunge across the room and wrap her hands around Jovita's throat. She wanted to squeeze until those fake, innocent eyes bulged out of her skull.
But Elliana forced her muscles to relax. She let her shoulders slump, mimicking the confused, irritable girl she had been ten years ago.
Jovita walked closer, carrying a glass of milk on a silver tray. She set it on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the mattress.
"Ellie, you look terrible," Jovita said, her brow furrowing in perfect, practiced sympathy. "Did you not sleep well? Did Damon... did he hurt you?"
Elliana's stomach churned at the manipulation. Jovita was planting the seed. She was trying to frame Damon's touch as a violation, stoking the fire of Elliana's past resentment.
In her previous life, Elliana had taken the bait. She had screamed, thrown the glass of milk at the wall, and stormed downstairs to demand a divorce from Damon before he even finished his coffee.
Elliana looked at the milk. She didn't touch it.
"It's nothing," Elliana said, her voice intentionally flat.
A flicker of surprise crossed Jovita's eyes. This wasn't the explosive reaction she expected.
Jovita reached out and affectionately linked her arm through Elliana's. "Sister, you don't have to force yourself. I know you don't love him. This arranged marriage is so unfair to you."
Jovita squeezed her arm. "Look at what he did to you last night. He didn't care about your feelings at all. A man like that, no matter how rich or powerful the Stirling family is, will never make you happy."
With her free hand, Jovita reached into her designer pocket and pulled out a small, unmarked plastic bottle. She pressed it into Elliana's palm.
"I got these from a friend. They're strong sleeping pills," Jovita whispered, her eyes darting to the door as if they were sharing a dangerous secret. "If he tries to force you again tonight, just slip a few into his drink. You can..."
Elliana stared at the little white pills rattling inside the plastic.
The memory hit her like a physical blow. In her past life, she had used these exact pills. During a screaming match, she had dumped them into Damon's whiskey. It had caused a severe gastric hemorrhage. Damon had been rushed to the hospital, and the entire Stirling family had turned against her in disgust.
Jovita had been paving her road to hell since day two.
Elliana tightened her grip on the bottle. Her knuckles turned stark white. She forced the corners of her mouth to lift into a weak, grateful smile.
"You're the only one who really cares about me, Jovita," Elliana said softly.
Jovita beamed, patting Elliana's hand. "We're sisters. You need to figure out how to divorce him quickly. The longer you drag this out, the worse it will be for you."
Jovita leaned in closer. "I heard Damon cares about the Stirling Group's reputation more than anything. You should go to his office today. Make a scene. Embarrass him in front of his employees. If he gets angry enough, he'll definitely sign the divorce papers."
Elliana nodded slowly, keeping her eyes wide and naive. "You're right. I can't just sit here and take this."
Satisfied that her poison had been swallowed, Jovita stood up. "I'll go wait for you downstairs. Mom has called three times already. She's so worried about you."
Elliana knew Greta Lewis didn't give a damn about her well-being. Her stepmother only cared if Elliana had successfully alienated the Stirling family yet.
"Okay," Elliana said.
The second the bedroom door clicked shut, the fake smile melted off Elliana's face, leaving behind a mask of pure, freezing ice.
She threw the blankets off and walked directly into the massive en-suite bathroom. She needed a moment to ground herself. She gripped the edges of the marble sink and stared at her reflection.
She looked so young. Her collarbones and the pale skin of her neck were covered in dark, purplish bruises-hickeys. The physical evidence of Damon's intense, desperate possession from the night before.
In her past life, she had scrubbed at her skin until it bled, disgusted by his touch.
Now, Elliana reached up and gently traced the marks with her fingertips. Her breath hitched. A strange, heavy heat pooled in her lower stomach. Damon. Even when she had been a monster to him, he had never truly hurt her.
She turned on the cold water and splashed her face, shocking her system into absolute clarity. After drying her skin, she slowly walked back out into the bedroom and approached the floor-to-ceiling window. Looking down at the manicured driveway, she saw Jovita standing near a black SUV. Jovita was whispering something to Damon's personal driver, slipping a folded piece of paper into the man's hand.
Jovita already had spies in the estate.
Elliana turned away, her resolve hardening into steel. She unscrewed the cap of the plastic bottle Jovita had given her. She dumped the white pills into the sink and watched them swirl down the drain.
This time, she was going to tear Jovita's life apart piece by piece. And she was going to hold onto Damon Stirling so tightly that nothing in this world could ever pry them apart.
Elliana walked into the walk-in closet. She bypassed the ripped jeans and graphic tees she used to wear to rebel against the family image. She pulled out a tailored, elegant beige dress that covered the marks on her neck perfectly.
She smoothed the fabric over her hips, took a deep breath, and opened the bedroom door. It was time to put on a show.
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7.9
One night of deception.
A lifetime of consequences.
A bond that cannot be broken.
Nadia Williams is an Omega living in the shadows of the pack she once called home.
Since her father's death, she and her mother, Estelle, have been treated as outcasts by her ruthless uncle, Alpha Edwards. When her mother is framed for theft, Nadia is forced into a deal with the devil.
To save her mother's life, she must become a virgin substitute for her cousin, Danielle.
Her aunt, Katerina, offers a devil's bargain to set her mother free: Nadia must spend one night in the bed of the most powerful man in the country, the billionaire; Alpha Conrad Bradley.
The catch?
She must swap places with her spiteful cousin.
Conrad demands a virgin bride to secure his royal bloodline, and Danielle, Nadia's cruel cousin, has already forfeited her purity.
What begins as a desperate night of passion in the dark spirals into a web of hidden identities and betrayal.
Nadia survives the night and disappears, hoping to bury the shame of the encounter forever.
But fate has a different plan.
Desperate for a fresh start away from her uncle's shadow, Nadia secures a high-level position at Bradley Group of Industries.
As Alpha Conrad unknowingly hires Nadia at his company, an undeniable connection sparks between them.
Conrad is haunted by the scent of the woman from that night-a scent that doesn't match his fiancée, Danielle, but seems to cling to his new, brilliant employee.
As they work side-by-side, Nadia finds an unexpected and beautiful second chance at a life she thought was lost.
Yet, buried secrets threaten to destroy everything.
When the Alpha discovers the woman he truly bonded with, the fallout will be legendary.
9.7
For three years, I was the dutiful wife of billionaire Ervin Valdez.
On our third wedding anniversary, he came home smelling of his mistress's perfume, pinned me down, and brutally mocked me.
His mistress, Sylvia, had even sent me a fake ultrasound report to force me out of the picture.
In Ervin's eyes, I was just a vicious, calculating liar who used a pregnancy to trap him into marriage.
He didn't care that I had actually lost that baby, nor did he know the trauma of my gambling father selling me to a dark club where I was assaulted by a stranger.
When I finally handed him the signed divorce papers, giving up all assets, and left the penthouse with nothing but an old suitcase, he just sneered.
"She is playing a game of hard to get. She won't last three days before she comes crying back."
He froze all my bank accounts, let his mistress humiliate me in public, and waited coldly for me to starve and beg.
He thought my entire existence relied on his wealth, completely confident that I would inevitably surrender to his control.
But he was wrong.
I calmly opened my old laptop, bypassed the complex encryptions, and looked at the dozens of unread emails from top-tier global brands begging for my return.
I resurrected my hidden identity as the legendary jewelry designer "R," and walked straight into the top design firm in Manhattan.
"It is time to find myself again."
7.2
Elmore Thomas rushed into the emergency room, clutching his feverish seven-year-old son, Buddy, tightly to his chest.
When the privacy curtain was pulled back, the air in Elmore's lungs vanished. The attending physician standing under the harsh lights was his wife, Kendal—the woman everyone believed had burned to death eight years ago.
But there was no tearful reunion. Kendal looked at him, and her eyes froze into impenetrable ice. She treated him like a biohazard, strictly referring to him as the family member.
Worse, she didn't recognize Buddy. She comforted their crying son with the same gentle warmth she used to reserve for Elmore, completely unaware she was soothing the baby she thought had died.
Days later, Elmore watched from the shadows as she picked up another boy outside a prep school, her left hand flashing a massive diamond engagement ring.
When his butler accidentally recognized her, Kendal shielded her new stepson with pure disgust in her eyes.
"Tell that psychopath to sign the divorce papers immediately. I have a new family now."
The words 'new family' echoed in Elmore's skull, tearing him apart. For eight years, he had lived in a hell of guilt and madness, raising their son in the shadow of her ghost. How could she just erase their past? How could she give her tender smiles to a stranger and look at him with absolute revulsion?
Standing in a luxury ballroom, Elmore squeezed his hand until his crystal champagne flute shattered, thick blood dripping onto the rug. The murderous obsession in his dark eyes returned as he called his lawyer.
"Freeze her divorce application. Use every dirty trick in the book. She isn't leaving."
9.8
When I woke up on the muddy bank of the freezing river, I unlocked a brutal, unfiltered preview of my actual future.
For the past six months, I had been the town's ultimate joke, chasing after a city boy who looked at me like a diseased insect. Everyone thought I jumped into the river because he rejected me.
But the nightmare didn't stop there. In the future I foresaw, my entire family was destroyed. My eldest brother was handcuffed and dragged into a squad car. My second brother died in a pool of blood on the asphalt. My parents passed away from sheer grief and humiliation, and our farm was foreclosed.
Meanwhile, Bart Hawkins—my family's sworn enemy, the boy everyone accused of pushing me, but who actually jumped in to save my life—became a billionaire tech mogul. I ended up starving to death in a damp, moldy basement, completely alone.
I finally understood that I was just a pathetic, tragic side character meant to drag my family into hell. My own sister-in-law, Felicie, had been stealing our food and money, laughing at my misery behind my back.
But right now, my mother was still alive, my brothers were safe, and the farm was ours.
When Felicie walked into my bedroom, playing the devoted sister-in-law with a bowl of clear, meatless broth while a stolen roasted chicken thigh leaked grease through her apron pocket, I didn't play along.
"What's in your pocket, Felicie?"
This time, I was going to tear that horrific future apart with my bare hands.
7.9
I woke up in a burning warehouse, twelve years after my supposed death. My body had been reset to its physical prime, the deep burn scar on my wrist completely gone.
Through the smoke, my eldest son, Kennard, rushed blindly into the flames. He was screaming the name of the very woman who had orchestrated this trap—Brittnie.
When I tackled him out of the way of a falling steel beam, he didn't recognize my youthful face. Instead, he pinned me to the concrete and nearly crushed my windpipe.
"How much did she pay you to carve up your face to look like a dead woman?"
He hissed the words at me, treating me like a sick corporate spy. For a decade, a bizarre narrative "script" had brainwashed my son, forcing him into pathetic devotion to Brittnie. She had drained his wealth, turned my daughter against him, and hollowed out our family empire.
Whenever Kennard tried to resist her, the mind control punished him with agonizing migraines, driving him to smash his own hands against the wall just to cope with the pain.
Hearing him quietly sobbing outside my locked door, my heart shattered. How could this invisible force torture my brilliant son and turn my family into puppets for a D-list actress?
I dragged him to the hospital for a DNA test.
When the results confirmed my maternity at 99.999%, the cold billionaire collapsed to the floor, weeping in my arms like a lost child.
I wiped his tears and smiled ruthlessly. It was time to take back my empire and burn Brittnie's life to the ground.
8.4
After being kidnapped for years and finally rescued, five-year-old Izzy thought she was going home to her wealthy biological family.
But when the social worker brought her to the freezing bus station, her biological father, Conrad, didn't even get out of his Mercedes. He took one look at her tangled hair and worn-out shoes, his lip curling in disgust.
"I have a real family now. I'm not disrupting my life for this."
He drove away, leaving her choking on his exhaust fumes. When her rough, grease-stained uncle Bryan forcefully brought her to the family mansion, things only got worse. Her biological mother refused to touch her, complaining that she smelled like a dumpster. Her half-sister Katelynn pushed her to the ground, making her bleed, and framed her for stealing. Instead of helping, Conrad roared at Izzy, calling her a wild animal and threatening to throw her back onto the streets.
Izzy stood there shivering in her oversized rags, watching them stand together in a perfect, unbroken circle. She didn't understand why her own blood looked at her like she was a monster, or why they were so eager to throw a traumatized child back into the dark.
But what her wealthy family didn't know was that Izzy had a secret: she could hear plants talking. And the greenhouse orchids were screaming at their cruelty. So, she climbed onto their expensive coffee table, pointed at her mechanic uncle, and made her choice.
"I don't want Conrad to be my daddy. I want Uncle Bryan."
She walked out of that loveless mansion forever, ready to follow the whispers of an old apple tree in her new backyard—a tree that was about to guide her to a buried fortune of gold.