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 5
The silence in the lobby was so absolute that Elliana could hear the hum of the air conditioning.
Damon stared down at the paper bag, then slowly lifted his gaze to her face. He didn't reach for it. His hands remained firmly at his sides.
"What game are you playing, Elliana?" Damon's voice was a low, dangerous rumble that vibrated in her chest. The distrust in his tone was thick enough to cut with a knife.
Campbell Gibson stood awkwardly to the side, his eyes glued to the marble floor, wishing he could evaporate.
Elliana's smile didn't waver. She took a half-step closer, invading his personal space. "What game could I be playing? I just couldn't stand the thought of my husband working on an empty stomach."
She pushed the bag an inch closer, until the paper brushed against the fine wool of his suit jacket. "Or what? Do you think I poisoned your coffee?"
Damon's jaw tightened. A muscle feathered in his cheek.
She had hit the nail on the head. Given her explosive hatred for him over the past few months, poison wasn't entirely out of the realm of possibility in his mind.
Campbell internally groaned. She's daring him, he thought. She's actually daring the boss.
Damon didn't answer her. He simply turned his body, intending to walk around her and out the door.
Elliana wasn't going to let him escape. Without thinking, she dropped the bag to her side and reached out with her free hand, wrapping her fingers firmly around his bicep.
Damon's entire body went rigid the second her hand touched him. He stopped dead in his tracks. He looked down at her small, pale hand gripping his dark sleeve. His eyes darkened, a storm brewing in the black depths.
He tried to pull his arm away, a subtle but firm movement.
Elliana held on tighter. Her grip wasn't strong enough to physically restrain him, but the sheer audacity of her touch anchored him to the spot.
"Let go," Damon ordered. His voice was freezing.
Instead of letting go, Elliana took another step forward, closing the remaining distance between them. She leaned her weight against his side, resting her head lightly against his shoulder.
"I won't," she murmured, her voice dropping to a soft, vulnerable register. "It's cold out here, Damon. Take me up to your office."
Campbell's eyes practically bugged out of his head. The executives behind them collectively inhaled. The Elliana Lewis they knew treated Damon like a disease. This woman clinging to his arm was an alien.
Damon stared down at the top of her head. His breathing hitched, a tiny, almost imperceptible break in his rhythm. He stood frozen for three agonizing seconds.
Then, without a word, he turned sharply on his heel and strode toward the private VIP elevator.
He didn't shake her off.
Elliana had to practically jog to keep up with his long strides, but she kept her hand firmly wrapped around his arm. Campbell scrambled to press the elevator button, staying outside as the steel doors slid shut, sealing the husband and wife inside.
The ride to the top floor was suffocatingly silent. Damon stared straight ahead at the metal doors, his body as tense as a coiled spring. Elliana stood beside him, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs.
The elevator chimed. The doors opened.
Damon finally ripped his arm away from her grasp and walked out, his long legs eating up the distance down the hallway. He pushed open the heavy double doors to his CEO office and walked straight to his massive desk, sitting down in his leather chair.
He opened a file folder, completely ignoring her presence.
Elliana followed him inside. The office was a stark reflection of the man: minimalist, cold, decorated entirely in shades of black, white, and slate gray.
She walked over to the glass coffee table in the center of the room. She opened the insulated bag and carefully laid out the club sandwich and the black coffee.
"You need to eat something," Elliana said softly. "It's bad for your stomach to drink coffee on an empty stomach."
Damon didn't look up from his paperwork. "I have no appetite."
Elliana sighed. She walked around the coffee table and approached his desk. She didn't stop until she was standing right in front of him. She placed both hands flat on the polished mahogany surface and leaned over, bringing her face level with his.
The subtle, sweet scent of her shampoo drifted across the desk, invading Damon's senses. His pen stopped moving.
She lowered her voice, injecting a hint of husky warmth into it. "Damon... how about I cook for you tonight? What do you want to eat?"
The words cook for you finally made Damon lift his head.
He looked at her. He looked at this pampered heiress who had never lifted a finger in her life, who had screamed that she would rather die than be his wife.
A harsh, cynical smirk twisted his lips. "What exactly can you cook? Are you planning to burn the kitchen down?"
Elliana wasn't offended. She leaned in even closer, her face mere inches from his. Her gaze dropped to his lips for a fraction of a second before meeting his eyes again.
"For you," she whispered, "I'm willing to learn anything. So... come home for dinner tonight. Please?"
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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.