Reborn To Love My Wheelchair Billionaire
Aubree pushed Ezra down the grand staircase, crippling the only man who silently protected her.
She thought she was finally escaping his control to be with her true love, Foster Newton.
But she had no idea it was a vicious trap meticulously set by Newton and her sweet, innocent cousin, Brandi.
Once Ezra was driven out of New York in despair, Aubree's life became a living hell. Her father completely disowned her. Brandi smoothly took over her home and her millions in inheritance.
"You were just a stepping stone for us, Aubree."
That was the last thing Newton sneered before leaving her to die.
Lying on the freezing floor, her warm blood pooling in her palms, Aubree finally saw the horrifying truth. She had destroyed her own family and ruined the one man who genuinely cared for her, all for a pair of greedy parasites.
Endless regret and suffocating hatred consumed her fading consciousness. Why was she so blind? Why did she let them manipulate her into destroying her own life?
Then, her eyes snapped open.
A violent wave of dizziness hit her. She looked down at her pale, flawless hands. There were no deep cuts. There was no sticky blood.
She was back. She had miraculously returned to the exact night she pushed Ezra, just two hours before his private jet was scheduled to leave forever.
Hearing her father's furious roar outside her bedroom door, Aubree didn't cower.
She wiped the smeared makeup from her face, her eyes turning dead cold. This time, she was going to make Ezra stay, and she was going to send those leeches straight to hell.
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Chapter 3
Aubree didn't push. She stopped a foot from Kai's chest.
"Let me through. I need to see Ezra," she demanded, her voice steady despite the tremor in her heart.
Kai didn't move an inch. "You've done enough damage to Mr. Phillips. Stay away from him," he sneered.
Another bodyguard, Leo Vance, walked over, crossing his arms and glaring at her.
Aubree's patience snapped. "Ezra!" she screamed, her voice echoing off the concrete walls. It wasn't a plea; it was a summons.
Kai's jaw tightened. He reached for the radio on his belt, pressing his finger to his earpiece, waiting for the authorization from the penthouse to have her removed.
Suddenly, a low, raspy voice crackled through Kai's earpiece. Kai's hand froze. His expression twisted into deep reluctance.
He took a deep breath, dropped his arm, and stepped aside, jerking his chin toward the doors.
Aubree didn't hesitate. She lunged into the private elevator.
The doors slid shut. The elevator shot upward. Aubree leaned against the cold metal wall, her heart hammering against her ribs. She looked down at her muddy boots and her bleeding palms, forcing herself to take slow, deep breaths.
Ding.
The doors opened to the penthouse. The air inside was freezing. The minimalist apartment was dark, the only light coming from the city skyline.
She saw him immediately.
Ezra sat in a wheelchair facing the glass, his broad back stiff. His right leg was stretched out, encased in a thick white cast.
Hearing her footsteps, Ezra used his hands to turn the wheelchair around.
His deep, dark eyes locked onto hers. There was no warmth, only a chilling emptiness. He looked at her like she was nothing.
Tears instantly flooded Aubree's eyes. Her legs trembled, but she forced herself to walk toward him.
Ezra watched her approach, his jaw ticking. The veins on the back of his hands bulged as he gripped the armrests.
"What are you doing here?" his voice cut through the dark room like a blade.
Aubree stopped in front of him. She opened her mouth, but he cut her off, a self-deprecating smirk twisting his lips.
"I'm leaving New York. Leaving all the space for you and Foster Newton. You don't need to come here to make sure I'm really gone," Ezra said, his tone dripping with ice.
The words stabbed her. She shook her head violently, tears flying from her cheeks.
"No, it's not like that—"
Ezra's eyes turned lethal. "Drop the act!" he shouted. "I am sick of your games!"
He pointed a shaking finger toward the elevator.
"Get out."
The raw hatred in his eyes broke her. Her knees gave out.
She dropped, landing hard on her knees right in front of his wheelchair.
Ezra flinched, his pupils dilating in shock. He instinctively tried to push the wheelchair backward.
Aubree lunged forward and grabbed his large, freezing hand, wrapping both of hers around it.
She looked up at him, her face wet with tears, her voice cracking.
"I'm sorry. I was so stupid."
Ezra pressed his lips into a thin line. He tried to yank his hand away.
Aubree refused to let go, her fingernails digging into his skin.
"I don't want you to go!" she cried out. "I like you!"
The confession exploded in the quiet room.
Ezra's entire body went rigid. He stared down at the girl kneeling at his feet, his chest heaving. He searched her face, trying to find the lie.
The silence stretched.
Ezra's Adam's apple bobbed. When he finally spoke, his voice was terrifyingly hoarse.
"Do you even know what you're saying?"
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7.2
Four years ago, Madelynn accepted money from Caiden's family and vanished. She thought it was for the best-he would remain the untouchable heir while she faced her tough life alone.
When they met again, Caiden humiliated her in public, yet appeared when she was cornered by a difficult client, pulling her back into his life.
He forced her to stay as his lover, using her mother's medical bills as leverage, whispering, "What you owe me... you'll repay the same way."
Madelynn believed he despised her. Only after the accident, when he ran toward her before the explosion, did she understand-he never let go.
8.1
Terminally ill.
Betrayed by her husband.
Abandoned by the only family she had.
Ariel died with nothing... and no one.
But fate gives her a second chance.
Reborn three years before her death, she walks away from the man who ruined her life-and takes back everything they stole.
Her love.
Her identity.
Her power.
Now, the cold billionaire who once ignored her can't take his eyes off her.
The brother who abandoned her starts to regret.
Too late.
Because this time, Ariel isn't the woman who begs.
She's the one who makes them kneel.
8.2
My son Leo had just died, and the silence in our cramped apartment felt like a physical weight crushing my chest.
Before I could even process the grief, my husband, Preston, kicked the door open and threw divorce papers onto the table.
Behind him stood Gloria, wearing a pristine cashmere coat and the diamond pendant Preston swore he had pawned to pay for Leo's hospital bills.
"Sign it," Preston said coldly. "You get nothing."
Gloria smirked, mocking me for failing to keep my sick child alive. When I tore up the papers in a blinding rage, Preston slapped me to the floor.
Then, my biological mother, Jerilyn, walked in. Instead of helping me, she pulled a serrated kitchen knife from her bag and plunged it deep into my stomach.
As I lay dying in a pool of my own blood, Jerilyn leaned in and whispered the devastating truth.
"I swapped you in the nursery. Gloria is my blood, and you belong in a Manhattan mansion. I can't let you ruin her life."
Until my lungs stopped working, I was consumed by a roaring, violent hatred. My own mother had traded my life of privilege for poverty, let my son die, and then murdered me to protect the fake.
Opening my eyes again, the dingy ceiling and the agonizing pain were gone.
I was sitting at a wooden desk, surrounded by the chatter of teenagers.
I was back in high school. And this time, I was going to make them pay.
8.5
Aileen transmigrated into a dark, unfinished novel as the villainous, abusive wife of a powerful billionaire.
The moment she opened her eyes, her husband's calloused hand was crushing her throat, and her six-year-old stepson was pointing a box cutter at her face, screaming for her to die.
A cold system voice suddenly exploded in her brain, forcing a mandatory mission: save the villainous father and son, or face immediate death.
To survive the system's strict Out-Of-Character warnings, Aileen had to keep playing the role of the deranged, hateful wife.
She was despised by everyone. Her husband threatened to drag her to an asylum, and her terrified stepson scrubbed the floor with his own pajamas just to avoid her wrath.
Things escalated when the novel's original female lead publicly framed Aileen in Central Park, throwing herself onto the grass and clutching her pregnant belly.
"She pushed me. She tried to hurt the baby!"
Archer rushed over, shoved Aileen aside with absolute disgust, and looked at her with the eyes of a murderer.
Aileen felt a bitter wave of exhaustion. She had discovered the original owner's hidden antipsychotic pills; the woman wasn't just evil, she was severely mentally ill and completely broken by this loveless marriage.
Yet, no one cared, and her husband would always choose to believe his childhood sweetheart's fake tears.
Since everyone in this world was convinced she was an unpredictable lunatic, she decided to give them exactly what they expected.
Aileen turned her back on the ridiculous scene, a cold smile forming on her lips.
She was going to stage a massive, undeniable psychological breakdown, using her "insanity" as the perfect shield to play the system and rewrite her fate.
8.2
One night was supposed to be her escape. After catching her ex-boyfriend in the arms of her treacherous stepsister on her twenty-first birthday, Valerie sought the only mercy she could find: the numbing sting of alcohol. But the morning brought no peace-only a shattered spirit, a body marked by a stranger, and a memory wiped clean against her will.
Months later, Valerie is a woman reborn from the wreckage, landing a high-paying role at the prestigious Noir Group. But the dream quickly shifts into a polished nightmare. Her new boss is Ellan Noir-a ruthless CEO whose name commands the city and whose eyes hold an unmistakable, familiar darkness.
When a mistake in the executive lift threatens her career, Ellan offers a devil's bargain: a contract of total submission. To save her best friend Nora's failing heart, Valerie must become his private property, bound to his beck and call 24/7. As office politics bleed into a dangerous game of obsession, Valerie realizes the man who rules her career is the same shadow who owns her past.
Dragged into his world of chaos, Valerie discovers a truth that changes everything She decides to collide with Ellan's business rival y get revenge until she realises she is carrying his child. As she struggles to survive the predators in the Noir family, Ellan fights for his life in a hospital bed. With a baby's life hanging in the balance after a lethal post-birth injection, Valerie must decide if she can save the man who broke her-or if their twisted fate will end in tragedy.
8.1
I skipped my final lab review in Geneva and endured a fourteen-hour flight to surprise my husband for our fourth wedding anniversary.
Instead, looking through the window of our beachfront estate, I saw him playing the perfect, loving father to a "tragic widow's" daughter, kissing the widow with practiced, casual intimacy.
Fleeing in pure panic, I got into a horrific car crash.
Waking up in the VIP hospital room, I kept my eyes shut and heard my husband talking to his best friend right beside my bed.
"She's just a party girl who knows how to swipe a black card. I only play the part because I need her father's proxy vote for the IPO."
"Every time I have to touch her in bed, it feels like a corporate obligation. It makes me sick."
Later, even my own father demanded I step down from my company role and publicly welcome the mistress, just to protect the family's investment in the upcoming ten-billion-dollar IPO.
Four years of marriage and quiet humiliations, all reduced to a calculated lie. They all thought I was just a brainless, hysterical socialite who could be easily manipulated and discarded.
They didn't know that the core anti-aging algorithm his entire empire relied on was secretly built by me.
I calmly pulled out my phone and texted my divorce lawyer.
"I want him bankrupt. On the day his company rings the bell, I am going to burn his entire life to the ground."