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Reborn To Marry My Billionaire Rival Novel Cover

Reborn To Marry My Billionaire Rival

I was freezing to death in an abandoned cabin, desperately waiting for my fiancé to save me. Instead, my phone flickered with a video from my adopted sister. She was smiling as she confessed that she and my fiancé had orchestrated my kidnapping, and my parents' fatal plane crash, just to steal my family's trust fund. When I called him with my dying breath, he mocked me for faking a PR stunt and hung up. I died in the sub-zero blizzard, consumed by absolute despair. But as a ghost, I watched my greatest business rival, the ruthless billionaire Collins, kick down the doors of my mansion. He didn't just mourn me. He shot my fiancé, trapped my sister, and set the entire place on fire, choosing to burn alive in the inferno just to avenge me. I couldn't understand why the man I had publicly despised for a decade loved me so fiercely, while the people I gave everything to wanted me dead. Opening my eyes again, I was back backstage on the night I won my Oscar, four years ago. My fiancé smiled, holding out his arms to hug me. I pushed him away in disgust, marched straight into the crowded theater, and kissed my billionaire rival on live television. "Let's get married tomorrow." This time, I would use him to burn them all to the ground.
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Chapter 5

Felicity's eyes snapped open.

She gasped violently, her lungs expanding as if she had just breached the surface of the ocean. She shot up from the sofa.

She coughed, hacking as if the thick black smoke of the Bel Air fire was still trapped in her throat. Her hands gripped the soft velvet cushions beneath her.

She blinked rapidly, the blinding reflection of a vanity mirror stinging her eyes.

She was sitting in a luxurious, brightly lit VIP dressing room.

There was no smell of gasoline. No blood. Just the heavy, expensive scent of Tom Ford Black Orchid perfume.

Her hands shook violently as she grabbed the smartphone resting on the makeup counter. She failed the fingerprint unlock three times before typing in her passcode.

The date on the screen glared back at her.

Four years ago.

A high-pitched ringing echoed in her ears. She looked down at her body. She was wearing the custom midnight-blue, star-gradient gown.

The dress she wore the night she won the Academy Award for Best Actress.

The memories of freezing to death in Aspen and watching Collins burn alive crashed into her brain. Her blood turned to ice, then instantly boiled into pure, unadulterated rage.

She was back.

The brass doorknob clicked. The door swung open.

Brandt walked in, wearing a perfectly tailored tuxedo, a sickeningly handsome, fake smile plastered across his face.

Brinley trailed right behind him, dressed in an innocent white tulle gown, holding a glass of warm water.

"Ten minutes to showtime, Felicity," Brinley said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness.

Seeing their faces, Felicity's stomach violently convulsed. She clenched her jaw so hard her teeth ground together.

Brandt stepped forward, opening his arms to hug her. "You look stunning, babe. Ready to take home the gold?"

As his hands reached for her waist, Felicity violently twisted her body sideways.

Brandt's hands grasped empty air. He stumbled slightly, his smile dropping into a frown of annoyance.

Brinley immediately stepped up, reaching out to grab Felicity's forearm. "Felicity? Are you okay? You look pale."

Felicity didn't think. Her body reacted on pure instinct.

She swung her arm and shoved Brinley backward with terrifying force.

Brinley shrieked as her stilettos twisted. She stumbled backward and slammed hard into the wooden doorframe.

Tears instantly pooled in Brinley's eyes. She looked at Brandt, her lip trembling. "Brandt... I was just trying to help."

Brandt's face flushed with anger. He stepped between them, glaring at Felicity. "What the hell is wrong with you? Stop acting like a diva backstage!"

Felicity let out a dark, humorless laugh. She stepped forward, her heels sinking into the carpet.

She grabbed the lapels of Brandt's custom tuxedo, her knuckles turning white. She yanked him down to her eye level.

"We are done," she spat, her voice a low, lethal whisper.

Brandt blinked, stunned for a second, before a mocking smirk crawled onto his face. He lowered his voice. "Is this about the new contract? Fine, I'll give you a higher cut. Stop throwing a tantrum."

Felicity stared at his smug face. She gathered the saliva in her mouth and spat directly onto his cheek.

Brandt gasped, stumbling backward until his spine slammed into the wall sconce. He wiped his face, his eyes widening in pure fury. He raised his hand.

"Touch me," Felicity hissed, her eyes dead and cold. "And I will walk out there and tell the press to have their forensic accountants take a very close look at the Klein trust fund and your recent investments."

The words hit the room like a bomb.

Brandt's raised hand froze in mid-air. The color drained completely from his face. Brinley stopped crying, her mouth hanging open in shock.

Felicity didn't waste another second on the garbage in front of her.

She grabbed the heavy skirts of her star-gradient gown and marched toward the door.

She burst into the chaotic backstage hallway. Stage managers were screaming into headsets.

The massive monitor on the wall showed the countdown for the Best Actress presentation.

A security guard stepped in her path. "Ma'am, you need to wait for the cue-"

Felicity shoved past him, triggering the metal detector alarm.

She broke into a run. Her high heels clicked frantically against the marble floor. Her heart hammered against her ribs.

She slammed her hands against the heavy, soundproof double doors of the inner auditorium, desperate to find the man who had died for her.

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