Second Chance: Reborn as the Villainess
Betrayed by the man she loved. Katrina Donovan's death was supposed to be the end. Instead, when Katrina opens her eyes, she isn't in heaven-She's in Rachel Sterling's body. The very woman who stole her lover, harvested her heart. The villain everyone hates.
Now trapped in the life of her enemy, Katrina must pretend to be the spoiled, manipulative heiress while hiding the truth that would destroy them all.
Worse-Owen Blake, the cold and powerful billionaire adopted son of the Sterling family, watches her every move. He despises "Rachel", believes she destroyed the only innocent girl he ever cared about. He doesn't know the girl he mourns... is standing right in front of him.
With hatred burning in her veins, Katrina swears she will not waste this second chance. She will expose the lies. Reclaim what was stolen. Make every person who carved out her heart beg for mercy.
But revenge is dangerous-Especially when the only man who might uncover the truth is the one who wants her dead.
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Chapter 3
The funeral had just ended.
Katrina scanned the area.
When her eyes landed on Felix-standing there, crying with a grief-stricken expression-her hands tightened around the wheelchair armrests. Veins bulged faintly on the back of her hands.
She forced herself to look away.
Forced herself to suppress the raging hatred threatening to burst from her chest.
Not far away, Owen stood in a black suit. A white daisy was pinned to his chest. Dark sunglasses concealed his eyes, revealing nothing of his emotions.
Katrina curled her lips in cold mockery.
After joining hands to kill her, they still had the audacity to show up at her grave?
Did they want to disturb her even in the afterlife?
Too bad.
Her life wasn't meant to end.
She stared at them both, swearing silently in her heart-
One day, she would have her revenge.
Owen.
Felix.
She wouldn't let either of them go.
Suddenly, a heart-wrenching sob erupted behind her.
Her body stiffened. A flicker of sorrow flashed across her face before she could stop it.
A figure rushed in front of her.
"Rachel, you bitch! What are you doing here? Get out! Get out of here! Haven't you hurt Kate enough while she was alive? You bitch! You and that bastard Felix will get what's coming to you! You won't die a good death! Kate is watching you from heaven! You two shameless adulterers-how dare you show your faces at her grave?!"
Katrina looked up.
The face before her was painfully familiar.
Tear-streaked. Twisted with hatred and overwhelming grief.
Each word cut into her heart like a blade.
Sophie.
Her closest friend when she was alive.
Grief surged through her chest. She forced the tears back with sheer willpower.
There were too many eyes watching.
Endure.
She couldn't expose herself.
"Get out... Rachel, get out!" Sophie screamed hysterically. "Just wait-I'll find proof that you murdered Kate. I won't let you get away with this!"
Sophie's words struck straight into Katrina's heart, shattering the fragile composure she had been desperately holding onto.
"I-"
Before she could finish, Sophie suddenly lunged forward, reaching to shove her wheelchair.
Felix reacted instantly, stepping in front of Sophie and blocking her.
"Have you lost your mind, Sophie? I already told you-Kate's death was an accident. It had nothing to do with Rachel. Are you done causing a scene? This is Kate's funeral! What exactly are you trying to do here?"
-Smack!
The sharp sound echoed through the cemetery.
Felix's face snapped to the side. A clear handprint bloomed across his fair cheek.
"Felix," Sophie spat, pulling her hand back, "the one who has the least right to stand in front of Kate is you, you hypocritical coward."
She took two steps back as if being close to him would stain her.
Felix's face darkened, his eyes blazing as he glared at her.
When he was slapped, Katrina had nearly applauded.
Just one slap?
That was letting him off easy.
But...
She would have plenty of chances in the future to settle the score with Felix-slowly.
"Who allowed you to come here?"
A cold, merciless voice sounded from behind her.
Owen.
The faint curve at the corner of her lips disappeared instantly.
"I heard Miss Donovan was being buried today," she replied calmly. "I thought I'd come and see her off one last time. Is that not allowed?"
Attending her own funeral.
What a ridiculous thing.
And yet it had happened to her.
Owen let out a cold snort. "What right do you have to stand in front of her? Rachel, you truly have no shame."
The moment he saw Rachel appear at the funeral, a chill had radiated from his entire body. If not for his iron self-control, he would have ordered someone to drag her out without hesitation.
Katrina gave a soft laugh, her tone dripping with mockery.
"Why can't I come? After all, Miss Donovan was technically my lifesaver. I'm just here to send her off. That's not too much, is it?"
The moment she mentioned that, Owen's anger surged uncontrollably. His icy eyes flared with piercing cold.
That night, when he learned that Rachel and Felix had lured Katrina out under the pretense of visiting a friend, he had gone nearly mad searching for her.
He hadn't slept for a single second.
Like a wild beast driven insane, he tore through the city.
But when he arrived at the abandoned hospital, the only thing left was the thick stench of blood in the air.
On the operating table lay Rachel-unconscious after surgery.
Katrina was gone.
She wasn't found until three days later.
"Go back," Owen ordered, his voice brooking no refusal.
Katrina almost laughed.
"You can stay, but I have to leave? Why?"
She lifted her chin, meeting his increasingly frigid gaze with open defiance. There was no fear in her eyes-only raw hatred.
She hated him.
Katrina hated Owen.
Completely.
Yet he paid no mind to the hatred in her gaze.
"Wade," Owen commanded coldly, addressing the silent assistant behind him, "take her back to the hospital. Until her body has fully recovered, she is not to leave the ward for even half a step."
What he regretted most-what he blamed himself for most-was failing to find Katrina that night.
Failing to pull her out of Rachel's hands.
Now, even in death, Rachel refused to leave her alone. How could he allow her to stand here and disturb Katrina's final farewell?
Although Owen had been adopted by the Sterling family since childhood and was Rachel's nominal older brother, his patience with her had already reached its limit after what she had done.
The fact that he hadn't strangled her with his own hands was already the extent of his restraint.
Wade quickly stepped behind Katrina and began pushing her away.
This time, she didn't resist.
As she was wheeled off, her gaze drifted to the photo on the tombstone.
Her own face smiled back at her.
A deep sorrow rose in her chest.
She knew that after today, there would no longer be anyone in this world named Katrina Donovan.
No matter how much she loathed the name Rachel, she would have to live on wearing the identity of the person she hated most.
She had to avenge herself.
What she didn't notice was that as she left, Felix's eyes never left her.
In his gaze swirled a complicated emotion-something unfamiliar, almost breaking free.
...
After returning from the cemetery, Rachel was practically confined to her hospital room by Owen.
This time, she cooperated obediently.
Not because she had given in-
But because she needed her body to recover as quickly as possible.
Only once she left the hospital could she begin doing what she truly intended.
If God had arranged for her to be reborn in Rachel's body, then her story was far from over.
Katrina was dead.
Now, she was Rachel.
The reborn Rachel.
Once she came to terms with that, no matter how much she resisted it in her heart, she would survive under this name.
And she would make them all pay.
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8.7
Emerson worked grueling twelve-hour shifts just to keep her five-year-old son, Leo, alive. Her only lifeline was her partner Alden, who was willing to give up his wealthy family to protect them.
But when Leo's bone marrow completely failed, the doctor delivered a death sentence. The only way to save him was a two-million-dollar treatment, or having another child with his biological father.
That father was Finnegan Mcconnell, the ruthless billionaire who had accused Emerson of faking her pregnancy and abandoned her five years ago.
Desperate for the medical fees, Emerson submitted her designs to Finnegan's company.
Instead of advancing the money, Finnegan tore her portfolio to shreds and trapped her as a prisoner in his estate.
To force her complete submission, he systematically destroyed her reality. He framed Alden with federal charges, leaving him facing twenty years in prison.
Alden's mother stormed into the pediatric ICU, violently strangling Emerson against the wall.
"Beg Finnegan to let my son go! You are a curse!"
Even Emerson's own adoptive mother showed up at the hospital, just to publicly mock her dying child.
Emerson was suffocating in despair. Finnegan already had a beautiful new wife and a five-year-old daughter—absolute proof he had been cheating while she was pregnant and alone.
He had his perfect family. Why did he have to hunt her down and sever every lifeline she had left, just to watch her drown?
With her son's heart monitor fading and Alden locked in a cell, her pride finally shattered.
Emerson walked into the top-floor executive office and dropped to her knees at the devil's feet, but the desperate mother looking up at him was preparing for a devastating revenge.
8.7
I was pregnant with the future heir of the Blackwood Pack, but my fated mate, Alpha Gavin, was nowhere to be found when sharp, tearing agony ripped through my swollen belly.
Instead of rushing to my side, he was in a luxury penthouse with his mistress, Piper.
When I desperately called his human number for help, it was Piper who answered the phone.
"I'm Piper. His future Luna."
Minutes later, I received a leaked audio file of Gavin promising to formally reject me the moment our pup was born.
Before the heartbreak could even set in, my armored SUV was violently rammed off the road by a massive truck.
It wasn't an accident. It was a targeted hit paid for by Piper's pack.
I woke up in the clinic with an empty womb. My pup was dead.
Gavin didn't even show up. He just mind-linked the butler to say he was "too busy" to deal with my loss.
He let his mistress murder our child and treated me like disposable trash, assuming my grief would make me a weak, compliant victim.
He thought he could just bury my trauma and move on with his perfect new life.
He was wrong.
I faked my own death in a fiery crash, leaving him with nothing but my signed rejection papers and the bloody receipt proving his mistress hired the killers.
Now, armed with a new identity and untraceable wealth, I am stepping out of the shadows.
I am going to bankrupt their packs from the inside out and make my former Alpha watch his empire burn.
9.5
The night I ran, I left everything behind.
My dead fiancé's ghost. His brother's cold hands reaching for me. A father who won't meet my eyes because he's already sold me to the highest bidder.
I thought I was escaping.
Then a stranger pulled me from the darkness, and I learned what real danger looks like.
Damon moves like he owns the world. Talks like every word matters. Looks at me like I'm the only woman who ever made him feel something. He says he's the son the Kings family erased, the bastard they tried to bury. He says Evan loved me-really loved me-and that's why I should trust him.
He wants me to sign a contract. One year as his wife. One year to help him destroy the family that destroyed us both. One year pretending to belong to a man who makes my heart race and my skin burn every time he's close.
But the closer we get, the more I feel him keeping secrets.
He touches me like I'm fragile. Looks away when I ask about Evan. Holds the truth behind his teeth like it might cut us both.
And the whole time, I'm falling.
Falling into his warmth. His danger. His impossible kindness that feels too real to be fake.
But if I've learned anything from the Kings, it's this: the men who save you are always the ones who need you most.
And the ones who need you?
They're the ones who hurt you in the end.
Evan knew something the night he died. Something about my father. Something about the deal that would make the Kings the most powerful people in the country.
Damon knows too.
And the only way he'll tell me?
Is if I say yes.
Say yes to the contract. Say yes to the marriage. Say yes to the fire building between us that feels less like pretending every single day.
But when I finally learn the truth-about Evan, about my father, about the empire that wants us both dead-
Will the man holding me survive what comes next?
And more terrifying:
Will I survive loving him?
9.3
For three years, Dara endured endless humiliation to be the perfect wife to billionaire Donavon Monroe.
But on their third anniversary, which was also her birthday, Donavon coldly threw divorce papers on the dining table.
He wanted her gone for his returning childhood sweetheart, completely ignoring the blistering burn on Dara's hand—a cruel injury intentionally caused by his brother just hours ago.
When Dara tearfully reminded him how she had bled and almost died to save his life three years ago, Donavon looked at her with pure disgust.
"I have zero interest in looking at the ugly scars you picked up in whatever slum you crawled out of."
He accused her of fabricating a savior complex just to secure a ring, perfectly content to let his mother and brother treat her like a glorified maid.
Dara's heart completely shattered.
She had sacrificed her life and dignity for a ruthless capitalist who viewed her as nothing but disposable trash.
With her last shred of pride, she signed the papers, ready to leave this suffocating nightmare forever.
But that night, a freak lightning storm struck the estate.
When Dara opened her eyes the next morning, she felt incredibly heavy and her center of gravity was completely wrong.
She looked in the mirror and saw Donavon's cold, chiseled face staring back at her in absolute terror.
They had swapped bodies.
Now, she held the absolute power of the Monroe empire, and Donavon was finally going to experience his family's vicious abuse firsthand.
9.0
For a whole year, April believed her billionaire husband, Bartholomew, abandoned her in Europe the day after their arranged wedding. She hated him so much she drunkenly prayed for his death at a club.
But he suddenly returned that very night, catching her red-handed. Instead of a divorce, he trapped her, threatening to bankrupt her bloodsucking family unless she moved into his penthouse to play the devoted wife.
Forced to comply, she attended a dinner with her toxic family. Her stepmother deliberately served her lobster—knowing April had a fatal allergy.
"Eat up, darling. I know hospital food is dreadful."
When April refused and exposed their massive gambling debts, her furious father raised his hand to strike her across the face.
But it was Bartholomew, the ruthless tyrant she despised, who caught her father's arm and snapped his wrist.
"If you ever try to touch my wife again, I will erase your family by sunrise."
April was completely stunned. Why was he defending her with such murderous rage? And why did he keep a cheap paper airplane she had made at age six preserved under a glass dome in his study?
The answer came that night. When Bartholomew stepped out of the shower, April saw the massive, jagged surgical scar sliced directly over his heart. He hadn't run away; he had been fighting for his life on an operating table. Staring at the man who had silently survived just to come back to her, April made her choice. She was going to uncover the truth behind his surgery and their past.
8.7
On the night of her engagement, Lila Hart discovers that her fiancé isn't just cheating-he's selling her to the cruel Alpha of the Silvermoon Pack to settle a debt.
Dragged into the arms of Damien Blackwood, a ruthless billionaire Alpha feared across the werewolf world, Lila vows to escape. But Damien isn't what he seems-behind his icy exterior lies a dangerous secret... one that ties Lila to him in ways neither can deny.