Reborn To Marry The Ruined Billionaire
Janet woke up gasping, the phantom fire of a deadly explosion still scorching her lungs. She had been reborn three years in the past, on the exact day her mother forced her into a marriage contract with Gaylord Bradford, a paralyzed and severely disfigured billionaire.
Before she could even process her second chance, her cousin Kandy kicked the bedroom door open, flaunting a massive diamond ring. Kandy, who had also been reborn, smugly announced she had stolen Janet's Wall Street golden boy fiancé, Jax Adler.
"You're going to marry that paralyzed monster," Kandy spat, gloating that she would build a billionaire dynasty with Jax while Janet wiped drool off a rotting corpse. Kandy expected Janet to have a complete mental collapse, completely unaware that Gaylord's own medical team was secretly injecting him with lethal neurotoxins to finish him off.
But Janet only felt a cold, clinical pity. Kandy's "prophetic" memories were a polluted lie. Jax was actually sterile and dying of irreversible kidney failure, while Gaylord wasn't a dying freak—he was a dormant god whose body was merely in a high-dimensional hibernation. Why would Janet mourn losing a doomed fraud?
Leaving her delusional cousin behind, Janet packed her bags and headed straight to Gaylord's maximum-security military cell. She physically tackled his corrupt doctor, drove three bio-electric silver needles into the crippled king's spine to awaken his deadened nerves, and looked him dead in his glacial blue eye.
"Sign the marriage contract," Janet whispered. "I will make you walk again, and we will take back everything."
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Chapter 1
Her lungs were on fire.
It wasn't a dull ache. It was a literal, agonizing scorch that tore through the delicate tissue of her chest.
Janet shot up from the lumpy mattress. Her hands clawed desperately at her own throat, her fingernails digging into her skin until they left angry red crescents. She was gasping, sucking in massive, greedy lungfuls of air. The oxygen in her childhood bedroom tasted like stale dust, damp wood, and cheap laundry detergent, but she swallowed it down like a dying woman finding water in a wasteland.
Her heart hammered against her ribs in a frantic, bruising rhythm. It beat so hard it made her vision blur. The phantom sensation of thick smoke and metallic blood still coated the back of her tongue.
She threw her legs over the edge of the bed. Her knees buckled the second her bare feet slapped against the cold, warped linoleum floor. She stumbled forward, her shoulder slamming hard into the doorframe, but she didn't stop. She threw herself into the tiny, cramped bathroom.
Her hands slammed down on the edges of the porcelain sink. She gripped it so tight her knuckles turned a stark, bone-white. She forced her head up. She forced herself to look into the cracked mirror.
The face looking back at her wasn't charred. The skin wasn't melting off her cheekbones. There were no blackened, blistered wounds from the explosion that had ended her life. She was young. Her skin was pale, covered in a thin sheen of cold sweat, but it was flawless.
Her phone vibrated on the edge of the sink. She snatched it up. Her thumb trembled as she pressed the power button. The harsh blue light of the screen illuminated the dark bathroom.
The date stared back at her. Three years ago.
It was the exact day her mother had signed the papers. The day she was forced into a marriage contract with the Bradford family.
Before Janet could process the impossibility of her own breathing, a sharp, blinding spike of agony drove itself directly behind her eyes. She dropped the phone. It clattered into the sink bowl.
She gripped her head, a low groan tearing from her throat. It wasn't a headache. It was an upload.
A fragmented, disorienting surge of memories washed over her. It wasn't a clear picture, but a chaotic storm of instincts and fractured images that tore through her synapses. She felt a strange, latent heat deep within her chest, a dormant spark she couldn't quite understand or control. The ghost of a life she hadn't fully lived yet pressed against her skull, leaving her dizzy but hyper-aware. Vague echoes of medical terminology and anatomical structures flickered at the edges of her consciousness, refusing to fully materialize. She gasped, her spine arching backward as a warm, terrifyingly unfamiliar sensation hummed under her skin. It was an awakening, a raw and unpolished potential that left her trembling, gripping the edges of the sink as she tried to ground herself in the overwhelming reality of her second chance.
Then, the sound broke the silence.
Click. Clack. Click. Clack.
Heels. Expensive, heavy heels striking the cheap wooden floorboards of the hallway outside her bedroom. The sound was arrogant. It was a march of victory.
The bedroom door didn't just open. It was shoved with brute force. It slammed against the drywall with a violent crack, the cheap wood splintering around the hinges.
Kandy.
Her cousin stood in the doorway, a stark contrast to the rotting Rust Belt house. She was wearing a Chanel dress, the latest season, the fabric clinging to her in a way that screamed new money and desperate validation.
Kandy didn't say a word at first. She just raised her left hand. Deliberately. Slowly.
The diamond caught the flickering overhead light. Five carats. Pear-shaped. A heavy, gaudy rock that looked like a tumor resting on her perfectly manicured finger.
"I'm marrying Jax Adler," Kandy announced.
Her voice was shrill. It vibrated with a desperate, hungry need for Janet's devastation.
Janet didn't blink. She didn't breathe.
She looked past the ring and into Kandy's eyes. She saw the wild, manic certainty there. The absolute conviction of someone who knew the future. The kind of certainty that only comes from living a life and waking up to do it again.
She was reborn. Just like Janet.
Kandy crossed her arms, the diamond resting prominently against her collarbone. She waited for it. She waited for Janet's knees to buckle. She waited for the tears to well up, for the screaming, the begging, the complete mental collapse.
Janet leaned her shoulder against the bathroom doorframe. Her chest was steady. Her stomach didn't drop. There was no anger boiling in her blood. There was only a cold, clinical pity.
Kandy's smug smile faltered. Her signature tell-her fingers immediately dropped to twist the massive ring on her finger. She hated the silence.
"You're going to marry Gaylord Bradford," Kandy spat, stepping closer, invading the space. Her perfume was cloying, suffocating. "That paralyzed monster. That burned freak. He's a rotting corpse, Janet."
She wanted to hurt her. She wanted to break Janet's spirit with the gruesome details of his injuries.
But Janet's mind was already pulling up Gaylord's file from her past life. The Ouroboros bloodline. The emperor star. The man who would eventually tear open the fabric of reality and conquer six dimensions. He wasn't a monster. He was a dormant god.
And Jax Adler? The Wall Street golden boy Kandy just stole from her?
Jax's kidneys were currently failing. Irreversibly.
"He's going to inherit the billion-dollar trust," Kandy bragged, her chest puffing out, her voice echoing in the small room. "I'm going to be the queen of Manhattan. And you? You're going to be wiping drool off a cripple's chin."
Janet tilted her head, her face an unreadable mask.
"Kandy," Janet said softly, her voice carrying a strange, heavy pity that made the air in the room feel thick. "I truly hope you know the man you've chosen. I hope the glittering future you think you've stolen is exactly what it appears to be."
The color drained from Kandy's face in an instant. Her hand froze on her ring. Her eyes darted to the side. Panic. Raw, unfiltered panic flashed across her features. She hated the ambiguity in Janet's voice, the calm certainty that suggested Janet knew a terrible secret she didn't.
"What are you talking about?" Kandy demanded, her voice shrill. "Jax is perfect! He's going to rule Wall Street!"
Janet stood up straight, pushing off the doorframe. She was only two inches taller than Kandy, but right now, looking down at her trembling form, she felt ten feet tall. She didn't need to expose everything right now; planting the seed of doubt was enough.
The strange heat hummed under Janet's skin, a warm, powerful current that begged to be released. Kandy took an involuntary step back, intimidated by the sudden, suffocating shift in Janet's aura.
Janet raised her hands and clapped. Slow. Loud. Mocking.
"Congratulations, Kandy," Janet said, offering a slow, chilling smile. "You successfully intercepted the exact fate you deserve. I wish you both a long, revealing life together."
Kandy's face turned a sickly shade of purple. Her jaw clenched so hard it looked like her teeth would shatter.
"You're just jealous! This is pathetic! You're going to be a widow in a month!"
Janet felt the power in her veins. She knew the exact biological pathways to pull Gaylord Bradford back from the edge of hell.
She pointed a steady finger toward the hallway.
"Get out of my room. Now."
Kandy planted her feet, biting her lower lip so hard a drop of blood welled up. She wanted a fight. She needed to see Janet break.
Janet didn't give her the satisfaction. She turned back to the sink, picked up her phone, and pulled up the Perkins family security speed dial. Her thumb hovered over the call button.
Kandy's eyes widened. She knew Janet would do it. With a frustrated, guttural sound, Kandy took a step back, her posture defensive.
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9.7
For three years, I hid my identity as the sole heiress of a multi-billion dollar tech empire to live in a cramped apartment and support my boyfriend, Ben.
But the day before our engagement, I stood outside a meeting room and overheard him talking to his wealthy boss, Haylie.
"She's just a stepping stone," Ben laughed, his voice full of contempt. "A poor, ambitionless distraction while I work my way up to where I really belong."
He mocked the cheap silver ring he gave me, calling it a necessary prop to keep a naive fool happy.
He bragged about the multi-million dollar merger proposal he was presenting, planning to use it to secure his promotion and build a future with her.
He had no idea that I had secretly negotiated that entire deal using my real connections just to give him his big break.
I had sacrificed my family's comfort, my true identity, and my own career just to watch him rise.
I poured my heart and soul into our humble beginnings, only to realize he saw my love as a pathetic joke and me as disposable trash.
I calmly picked up a pen and voided the merger agreement, tearing my hard work into tiny pieces.
I went home, slid the cheap ring off my finger, and dropped it into his mug of cold coffee.
"Soon, you'll find out exactly who is nothing."
Walking out the door, I pulled out my phone and texted my billionaire father.
"I'm in. Announce the merger."
9.6
For five years, I was Barron Santana's elite bodyguard and loyal shadow. I stood between him and bullets, giving him my youth and my entire heart.
But last night, the CEO announced his engagement to a flawless socialite on national television.
Heartbroken, I got blackout drunk and ended up crashing on the couch of Cassidy Gross, a billionaire tech CEO who saved me from a bar creep.
When I showed up late to work, Barron locked me in his freezing office. He pinned me against the glass, smelling Cassidy's cologne on my clothes.
"Are you already looking for your next meal ticket?"
He snarled the words, treating me like a cheap whore. When I defended myself, he pulled out a silk handkerchief and wiped his fingers, acting as if my very touch contaminated him.
Then, he coldly ordered his assistant to draft my termination papers.
Five years of risking my life for him, thrown away like garbage just because of his twisted ego.
Devastated, I ran out and collapsed in the hallway, sobbing uncontrollably until a kind coworker gently pulled me into his arms to comfort me.
I didn't know Barron had followed me out.
Seeing me clinging to another man, his legendary control completely shattered, replaced by a dark, violent possessiveness.
But it was too late. I was done playing his obedient dog, and it was time to take Cassidy up on his offer.
7.8
Andrea was trapped in a suffocating marriage with billionaire Gregory Morse, forced to live as the pathetic substitute for his dead fiancée.
When armed intruders broke into their estate in the dead of night, she called her husband in pure terror.
"Stop playing these cheap, attention-seeking games," Gregory sneered with disgust, and hung up the phone.
She barely escaped with her life, but the cruelty only escalated. At the family mansion, his dead fiancée's sister deliberately scalded Andrea's hand with boiling tea. Instead of defending his wife, Gregory publicly humiliated her, ordering her to clean up the mess while calling her a stray dog.
That night, hiding in the dark wine cellar, Andrea overheard a chilling confession.
Gregory admitted to his brother that he knew Andrea was completely innocent of the car crash that killed his fiancée. He knew she had been framed.
Why did he marry her? Just to use her as a psychological punching bag to vent his twisted grief. He watched her suffer every single day, treating her like disposable trash, while violently threatening anyone who showed her an ounce of kindness.
He thought she was just a useless, helpless shadow who would quietly endure his torment forever.
He had no idea that behind her submissive facade, she was secretly Madame Lan, the apex predator of the global fashion world. And now, she was ready to burn his empire to the ground.
8.2
My ex-boyfriend of three years, Axel, married a perfect wealthy heiress.
I attended his wedding, not to mourn our relationship, but because he had spent the last three years bleeding me dry.
He left me with absolutely nothing but a final notice from the hospital for my dying brother's life support.
Instead of feeling guilty, Axel cornered me in the church hallway, crushing my wrist.
"I'll set you up with an apartment. You won't have to work another day in your life."
He thought he could buy my silence with spare change, while leaving my seventeen-year-old brother, Julian, to die when his treatments were cut off the very next day.
When I refused to be his dirty little secret, Axel used his power to utterly destroy my acting career.
He had my talent agency terminate my contract under a fake morals clause, publicly humiliated me on set, and blacklisted me across the entire industry.
I was shoved out into the freezing rain, left with a torn dress and absolutely no way to pay the five hundred thousand dollar medical bill.
He actually believed he could step on my brother's dying body to build his own fake empire.
He thought I was just a weak, pathetic victim who would eventually crawl back to him on my knees.
But he forgot about the one monster he was absolutely terrified of: his legitimate, ruthless billionaire half-brother, Jace Bauer.
Looking at the three positive pregnancy tests hidden in my drawer, I stepped right in front of Jace's armored Maybach.
"Marry me, and I'll give you the heir you need to secure your empire."
9.3
I was the rightful heir to the Valenzuela estate, but my aunt and cousin treated me worse than a stray dog.
On a freezing rainy night, they forged documents to strip me of my trust fund and violently ordered their bodyguards to throw me out.
My cousin snatched the rosewood urn containing my mother's ashes. She smashed it onto the marble floor and maliciously ground the white powder under her stiletto heel.
When Aidan, the elderly butler who had protected me since I was a baby, tried to shield me from their assassins in the storm, he was stabbed in the back.
His hot blood poured over my hands as he died in the muddy puddle, while my aunt's men laughed and raised their blades to finish me off.
They thought I was just a nameless orphan they could easily erase.
The next day, they went to the press, branding me a degenerate thief who ran away, happily preparing to parade around at my grandfather's charity gala using my stolen wealth.
But they didn't know I was rescued from the rain by the most ruthless billionaire in New York, a man willing to burn the city down to protect me.
Staring at my pale reflection in the penthouse mirror, I took a pair of heavy silver scissors and chopped off my long hair.
"From today on, the weak girl is dead. I am Evelena Valenzuela, and I am going to make them bleed for every single thing they took."
9.0
Angelena was the proud heiress of the wealthy Beasley family, until a single drink shattered her life.
Drugged by her jealous cousin and best friend, she stumbled into the wrong hotel suite and lost her innocence to a terrifying, authoritative stranger.
The next morning, reporters burst through the door, their camera flashes blinding her.
"Look at this mess! You were so desperate for money you'd sleep with some old man?"
Her cousin orchestrated the entire scandal to steal her inheritance. Her grandmother publicly disowned her, stripped her of her trust fund, and banished her from New York in absolute disgrace.
Seven months later, bleeding out in a freezing off-the-grid cabin, Angelena gave birth to quadruplets.
But as she slipped into unconsciousness, a corrupt black-market midwife stole her two newborn sons and sold them into the blizzard, leaving Angelena with only her twin daughters.
She clutched the single platinum cufflink the stranger had left behind, her heart shattered. She couldn't understand why her own blood relatives would destroy her so viciously, or who the monster was that took her innocence.
But the agonizing betrayal ignited a white-hot, burning vow for revenge.
Five years later, she returned to the city not as a broken outcast, but as a legendary underground doctor and a ruthless biotech CEO.
And the very first billionaire she clashed with was Fabian Richmond, a paranoid tyrant who unknowingly possessed her stolen sons—and the exact same platinum crest.