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Reborn Rich, My Vengeance Rises

Chapter 4 No.

Word Count: 747    |    Released on: 12/12/2025

d opened a bottle of Dom Perignon in the ba

her head on Ethan's shoulder. "Did you

drinking deeply. "We need a lawyer. A shark. Someon

ne," Susanna smile

most expensive litigator in the country. He charg

llege together. Sort of. He'll take the case for the pub

tel bed. Her laptop was open, the b

lts for Jul

efe

il's Ad

ness per

100% in

ark hair, sharp jawline, eyes that looked like they coul

the number

ates," a crisp fem

ppointment with Mr. Th

ew clients at this time. He is

eep breath. She ha

.. Case 404 is lo

on the other end. The s

ment, p

music-classical, Vivald

, a

ghost from a past life

hrough the cheap plastic of the phone. Seraphina's heart skipped

," Seraphina said, gr

the sound of a man bored by the univer

. I'm... divorc

tly. "The tech boy? I saw the headli

aphina said. "The

aid flatly. "Do you have money

hina said. "About intellectual

those journals contain the nuclear codes, Ms. Re

ance is launching next quarter," Seraphina said, bluffing slightly on

ould hear the faint scratch

ow. 9 AM. Don't be late. I

ne wen

ed he was arrogant, but capable. She did

intage Chanel copy that was slightly too big in the shoulders, but she had tai

per that pierced the Manhattan clouds. The lobb

e reception desk

th Mr. Thorne.

was carved out of ice, looked her up and down.

. You can wait." She gestur

. She w

five-thousand-dollar suits. Women w

the elevat

hina

ands. Susanna was wearing a white dress, looking like a bri

ted her i

"Oh, Seraphina," she called out, her voice echoing in the

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Reborn Rich, My Vengeance Rises
Reborn Rich, My Vengeance Rises
“My husband, Ethan Vance, made me his trophy wife. My best friend, Susanna Thorne, helped me pick out my wedding dress. Together, they made me a fool. For three years, I was Mrs. Ethan Vance, a decorative silence in his billion-dollar world, living a quiet routine until a forgotten phone charger led me to his office. The low, feminine laugh from behind his door was a gut-punch; inside, I found Ethan and Susanna, my "best friend" and his CMO, tangled on his sofa, his only reaction irritation. My divorce declaration brought immediate scorn and threats. I was fired, my accounts frozen, and publicly smeared as an unstable gold-digger. Even my own family disowned me for my last cent, only for me to be framed for assault and served a restraining order. Broke, injured, and utterly demonized, they believed I was broken, too ashamed to fight. But their audacious betrayal and relentless cruelty only forged a cold, unyielding resolve. Slumped alone, a restraining order in hand, I remembered my hidden journal: a log of Ethan's insider trading secrets. They wanted a monster? I would show them one.”