Reborn To Ruin My Traitorous Ex-Fiancé
Sera was the obedient, spoiled Hollywood socialite of the Beaumont family, completely devoted to her fiancé, Ethan.
But her life ended in a freezing Eastern European warehouse, chained to a damp concrete floor.
Right before she died, her captors shoved the transfer documents in her face. Ethan had sold her to human traffickers to cover his massive underground gambling debts.
While she suffered in absolute hell, her adoptive mother went on national television.
She squeezed out fake tears, publicly framing Sera for stealing family funds and eloping with a secret lover.
Sera's reputation was completely destroyed, and she was left to die a miserable, agonizing death in the dark.
She didn't understand why her family treated her like a disposable piece of trash.
She understood even less how the man who promised to marry her could hand her over to monsters without a second thought.
When she opened her eyes again, the biting cold and heavy iron chains were gone.
She was back five years in the past.
She was lying on a hotel bed, her limbs heavy with date-rape drugs, while a predatory Hollywood director hovered inches from her face.
It was the exact "exclusive audition" Ethan had arranged to exploit her for the very first time.
Sera didn't scream. With lethal, practiced precision, she shattered the director's wrist and brought a heavy crystal ashtray down on his skull.
The bleeding man collapsed onto the carpet and whimpered.
"Ethan promised... he said you'd be compliant..."
Staring at his pathetic face, a cold, predatory smile stretched across Sera's lips.
This time, she was going to systematically dismantle their lives.
Chapters
Share
Chapter 7
The elevator descended smoothly and came to a halt. The doors slid open to the cool, concrete expanse of the underground garage.
Arthur Sullivan, Kian's frantic personal assistant, was pacing near a black SUV. He spun around at the sound of the chime.
Arthur gasped, sprinting forward. He saw Kian sitting on the floor of the elevator, leaning heavily against the metal wall, looking utterly exhausted and pale.
Sera stepped out of the elevator first. She smoothed down the front of her wrinkled trench coat, taking a deep, slow breath to force her racing heart rate back to a normal rhythm.
She immediately adopted her bored, slightly annoyed Hollywood persona.
"Your boss had a little fainting spell," Sera drawled, waving a dismissive hand toward Kian.
Arthur looked at Sera in utter confusion. "Are you... are you a concierge doctor the hotel sent?"
Sera scoffed loudly, rolling her eyes. "Please. I just happen to know basic first aid from a mandatory high school health class. He stopped breathing, I pushed on his chest a bit. He's fine now."
From his spot on the floor, Kian looked up at Sera. His sharp, intelligent eyes cut straight through her blatant, ridiculous lie. He remembered the precise, bone-rattling force of her compressions. He remembered the clinical perfection of her rescue breaths. That wasn't high school health class. That was military-grade triage.
But Kian remained completely silent. He chose not to expose her. He allowed Arthur to hook an arm under his shoulder and help him to his feet, guiding him toward the waiting SUV.
Before Arthur closed the heavy car door, Kian turned his head. He held Sera's gaze for a long, heavy second. It was a silent, intense promise that this conversation was far from over.
Sera turned on her heel and walked toward the staff quarters, her expression blank.
The next morning, at exactly 5:00 AM, the red "LIVE" light blinked on the main camera set up in the hotel lobby. The reality show broadcast officially began.
Millions of viewers flooded the livestream, expecting to see the celebrity guests looking glamorous in the early dawn.
Instead, the camera panned to Sera. She was dressed in a sleek, all-black tactical tracksuit, her hair pulled back into a tight, severe ponytail. She held a metal clipboard in one hand and a silver referee whistle in the other.
The livestream chat immediately exploded with hate comments.
Ugh, why is the toxic nepo baby here?
She's going to ruin the show.
Fire her!
Sera ignored the camera completely. She marched toward the staff elevator, her boots clicking sharply against the marble floor. Gary, the lead cameraman, scrambled to keep up with her fast pace.
She arrived at the fifth floor and stopped directly outside Suite 501. It was the room belonging to pop star Felicity "Fifi" Lowell.
Sera didn't bother knocking. She swiped the master keycard against the lock and shoved the door open, stepping into the pitch-black, quiet room.
Fifi was buried under a mountain of luxury down duvets, wearing a pink silk sleep mask, dead to the world.
Sera raised the metal whistle to her lips. She blew a piercing, deafening blast that shattered the silence of the room like glass.
Fifi shrieked in pure, unadulterated terror. She flailed wildly, tangling her legs in the heavy blankets, and rolled straight off the edge of the mattress. She hit the carpet with a loud thud.
The livestream chat went wild. The hate comments paused, replaced by a mix of shock, outrage from Fifi's hardcore fans, and sudden, morbid amusement from neutral viewers.
Fifi ripped off her sleep mask. Her blonde hair was a bird's nest. She glared up at Sera from the floor.
"What the hell is wrong with you? !" Fifi screamed, her voice cracking.
Sera looked down at her coldly. She tapped her metal clipboard with a pen. "Wake-up was scheduled for 0500 hours. You are late."
"My contract says I need eight hours of beauty sleep!" Fifi whined, crossing her arms and refusing to stand up. "I'm not moving."
Sera took one step closer. Her aura suddenly shifted, becoming heavy and oppressive. She stared down at the pop star with dead, unblinking eyes.
"Beauty sleep is a privilege for those who aren't liabilities to my team," Sera stated, her voice dropping to a terrifyingly calm register. "You have exactly ten minutes to be in the lobby. Or I will personally drag you down there by your ankles."
Fifi swallowed hard. She looked into Sera's eyes and saw absolute, genuine menace. Terrified, she scrambled off the floor and ran toward the bathroom.
Gary the cameraman zoomed in on Sera's impassive face. He realized right then that this manager was not playing by standard reality TV rules.
Sera turned to the camera. She offered a chillingly polite smile. "One down. Let's go wake the others."
She stepped back into the hallway, her eyes locking onto the door of Suite 504. Ethan Vance's room.
You may also like
8.3
When Eli is forced to enroll at Blackwood Academy, he thinks it is just another remote boarding school. But on his first night, he realizes the terrifying truth.
This school is a prison.
Trapped in endless, deadly time loops, students are forced to complete cruel, supernatural trials. Ghosts, cursed hallways, hidden rules, and unspeakable creatures hunt them after dark. The only way to stay alive is to solve mysteries, earn credits, and obey the academy's twisted commands.
No one remembers how they arrived.
No one has ever graduated.
No one leaves alive.
Eli must team up with other desperate students to uncover the academy's century-old secret. If they fail, they will be trapped in the nightmare forever.
At Blackwood Academy, survival is the only exam.
8.6
I was the youngest Paladin in history, the absolute pride of the Azure Blade.
But after a disastrous mission in the snow, I was falsely accused of slaughtering my own squad.
Grand Master Bernardo Rowe didn't just exile me; he surgically severed my connection to the magic Aether, turning me into a crippled mortal.
Desperate to survive, I tried to climb the Holy Stairs to reclaim my legendary sword, "Rebellion."
Instead of answering my call, my own blade shrieked in absolute rejection and blasted me down the thousand stone steps.
My bones snapped like dry twigs, and I was left in a pool of my own blood.
The pilgrims laughed at me. The guards declared me a lost cause and left me to rot in the dirt.
I should have died there, betrayed by the Order and the holy magic I once served.
But a silent, massive laborer named Cato Sims dragged my mangled body into the shadows.
He healed my shattered skeleton in mere days with impossible skill, yet he allowed lowly servants to spit on him and beat him just to keep my presence hidden.
I didn't understand why my holy sword had abandoned me, and I understood even less why this stranger was protecting a condemned criminal.
When I finally snapped and demanded to know his price for saving my life, he didn't ask for money or my body.
"The mountain does not forget its debts. I am reclaiming what was taken from it."
Staring into his unyielding eyes, I realized my exile wasn't the end, but the beginning of a terrifying truth.
8.1
She thought patience would earn her love.
She was wrong.
After years of waiting for her best friend to finally see her, she meets the one man she should never want-his older brother. Dark, forbidden, and dangerously perceptive, he sees through every excuse she's ever made for being overlooked.
Now she must choose between a safe fantasy that keeps breaking her heart and a dangerous truth that offers no escape once it begins.
Because the brother who looks at her like that?
He doesn't believe in halfway love.
8.9
The Moon Goddess gave them a bond-Adrian gave his heart to someone else.
For three years, Luna Mira has lived in the shadow of her trauma, clinging to the comfort of an Alpha who felt like safety. until a grieving widow arrives and exposes the truth. While Mira struggles to heal, Adrian risks everything for another woman, showering her with the affection and gifts meant for his wife.
After a brutal betrayal on the streets of France, Mira learns that being a mate is destiny-but being a Luna is power. If Adrian won't choose her, she'll choose herself. and the most dangerous Lycan King in the world may already be waiting to claim what Adrian foolishly threw away.
9.7
Some chains are forged in iron.
Others in desire.
Sebastian Kol has existed for six centuries. Cursed to burn alive in his own skin every night he transforms into a beast even he cannot control. He wants one thing. Freedom. And after five centuries of searching, a prophecy finally gives it a name.
Leilani Ravenwood.
She carries the mark of the moon goddess on her skin and a prophecy that brands her as his salvation. Her blood silences his beast, and her touch sets him on fire.
In the worst possible way. And in the best possible way.
Furious at the hold she has over him, Sebastian takes her, strips her of everything, and bends her world until it breaks, determined to own what the goddess dared to use against him. What follows is dark and consuming. A monster who has never met his match, and a woman who proves to be it.
But Leilani Ravenwood does not break easily. And somewhere between the hatred and the hunger, the punishment and the pull, the ancient beast begins to suspect the terrible truth.
The woman born to be his salvation may already be his undoing, his poison and cure wearing the same skin.
And he is running out of reasons to care.
7.4
The house was a living inferno, the heat devouring the air in my lungs as I clutched my five-year-old daughter to my chest. Emily was dead weight, her skin already cooling even as the room turned into a furnace of orange and black.
Through the stinging smoke, I saw my husband, Kenney, crawling toward the door with a wet handkerchief pressed to his face. He didn't look back at the crib, and he didn't call my name; he was simply leaving us to burn.
I lunged forward and grabbed his ankle, my nightgown catching fire, but he didn't reach down to save me. He recoiled in horror at the sight of my burning hair and our dead child, kicking me back with a panicked shriek.
"Let go!" he shrieked.
I died as a massive, flaming timber snapped from the ceiling and crushed us both into silence. I couldn't believe that the man I loved would leave his family to die just to save his own skin, but the rage I felt was colder than the death that followed.
But then the burning stopped instantly, replaced by a cold so sharp it made my teeth ache. I gasped, jerking upright in my bed to find the velvet duvet cool under my palms and the nursery quiet, with Emily still breathing softly in her crib.
I had returned to the winter morning two years before the fire, the exact day Kenney finalized the deal to sell me to the King for a promotion. As Kenney stepped into the room with a practiced mask of concern, I realized I was no longer the victim of this story.
"A nightmare, my love?" he asked, reaching out to touch my shoulder.
I flinched away, my eyes burning with a hatred he couldn't yet understand. Tonight was the Winter Masquerade, the night he planned to offer me to the King as a prize, but this time, I was going to turn his social ladder into a gallows.