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Reborn with 10 Billion to Conquer the Apocalypse Novel Cover

Reborn with 10 Billion to Conquer the Apocalypse

She has thirty days. Ten billion dollars. And a quantum space that can swallow anything. Kinsey Elliott died cold, starving, and betrayed—pushed into a frozen abyss by the uncle who stole her fortune. Then she woke up. Back in her penthouse. Back in her perfect body. Back with a silver mark on her wrist that lets her store entire warehouses of supplies in a dimension where time stands still. The world has thirty days until a global ice age freezes everything. Her family has thirty days to try to lock her away, steal her money, and have her killed. And Kinsey? She has thirty days to turn ten billion dollars into an invisible fortress—and burn every last one of them to the ground. She's not surviving the apocalypse. She's building it.
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Chapter 4

Kinsey stared at the glowing screen. The name Uncle Clemence made the muscles in her jaw tighten until her teeth ached. She let out a short, cold laugh and hit the red 'Decline' button.

She walked into the lobby of her luxury high-rise. She pressed her thumb against the biometric scanner of the private elevator. The doors slid shut, rocketing her up to the penthouse.

The elevator doors chimed and parted. The motion-sensor lights in the hallway flickered on.

Kinsey stepped out. Instantly, her senses went on high alert. The air in her private hallway was tainted. It smelled heavily of Chanel No. 5-a cloying, suffocating floral scent that made her stomach churn.

She rounded the corner into her massive living room.

Sitting on her custom Italian leather sofa was her uncle Clemence. Next to him sat his wife, Loretta, dripping in diamonds, and their daughter, Analia, who was busy filing her nails.

Standing behind the sofa were two massive, thick-necked men in dark suits. Orderlies. Next to them stood a man in a crisp white doctor's coat.

Loretta stood up, stretching her face into a tight, fake smile. She opened her arms. "Kinsey, darling! We were so worried-"

Kinsey sidestepped the embrace. Her eyes swept over the intruders like a blade. "Who gave you the access code to my penthouse?"

Analia blew on her nails and rolled her eyes. "The building manager let us in. He was worried you were going to hurt yourself, considering you've gone completely psychotic."

Clemence stood up. He adjusted his silk tie, pulling it tight against his throat-his signature tell when he was trying to assert control. He put on a mask of deep, paternal sorrow.

"Kinsey, please," Clemence sighed heavily. He reached into his leather briefcase and pulled out a thick stack of medical documents. He threw them onto the glass coffee table with a loud smack.

"Your recent behavior is textbook schizophrenia," Clemence said, his voice echoing in the large room. "Liquidating billions? Buying warehouses of garbage? We had no choice. The family has filed for a Conservatorship with the New York Supreme Court."

Kinsey stared at the papers. A Conservatorship. They were trying to legally strip her of her autonomy, her money, and her freedom. The memories of her past life-being locked in a freezing room while Clemence stole her trust fund-crashed into her mind.

The doctor stepped forward. He held a syringe filled with a clear liquid. "Miss Elliott, please cooperate. We are going to give you a mild sedative and take you to a private facility where you can get the help you need."

The two massive orderlies moved. They flanked Kinsey, stepping between her and the elevator. They used their sheer physical size to block her only exit.

Loretta wasn't even looking at Kinsey anymore. Her greedy eyes were scanning the expensive modern art hanging on the penthouse walls, already calculating how much she could sell it for.

Analia pulled out her phone and hit record. "Smile for the camera, crazy cousin. This is going straight to the group chat."

Kinsey didn't scream. She didn't cry.

Instead, a low, dark chuckle vibrated in her chest. The laughter spilled out of her, echoing in the quiet room. It was a terrifying sound-the sound of someone who had waded through mountains of corpses and found the concept of these weak, pampered people trying to threaten her absolutely hilarious.

Clemence's fake sorrow vanished. The laughter made the hair on his arms stand up. He adjusted his tie violently. "Grab her. Now!" he barked at the orderlies.

The orderly on her left lunged. His massive hand, the size of a dinner plate, reached out to clamp down on Kinsey's shoulder.

Kinsey's body reacted before her conscious mind did. The muscle memory of the wasteland took over.

She dropped her shoulder, slipping under his massive grip at a tactical angle that defied normal physics. As his arm extended past her, she grabbed his thick wrist with both hands.

She dug her thumbs brutally into the ulnar nerve cluster-the 'funny bone' pressure point.

The orderly let out a muffled grunt of agony. The entire left side of his body went instantly numb.

Kinsey didn't stop. She used his own forward momentum against him. She pivoted her hips, loaded his weight onto her back, and executed a flawless, vicious shoulder throw.

The 190-pound man flew through the air. He slammed back-first onto the solid marble floor.

The impact sounded like a car crash. The floorboards literally vibrated. The orderly's eyes rolled back into his head, and he went completely limp, knocked unconscious instantly.

The second orderly's eyes went wide with shock. He scrambled backward, his hand flying to his belt. He ripped a high-voltage taser from its holster and leveled it directly at Kinsey's chest.

Kinsey slowly stood up straight. Her eyes locked onto the metal prongs of the taser. The bloodlust in her veins was fully awake.

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