Reborn From Ashes: Divorcing The Billionaire

Chapter 5

Word Count: 850 | Released on: 09/05/2026

ale morning light filtered through

clear and focused. The terror of the previous night

ige trousers and a soft cashmere sweater. She ope

ache. She hadn't eaten a single b

cept kitchen. Several maids were already prepping breakfast. When they saw Gene walk

eanor for twenty years, stood behind the marble kitch

toward the gleaming espresso machine, reaching for th

arge frame to block Gene's access to the machin

ne dripping with condescension. "It is brewed specifically

eel sink. Sitting on the counter was a chipped mug fil

urs," Bridg

t, mocking smiles. They waited for Gene to

, terrifying calm washed over her. She slo

ached out, grabbed the glass handle of the Blue

ould react, Gene

eel trash can. The hot coffee hit the plastic liner with a loud

her eyes bulging

hrieked. "You stupid bitch, y

th of her heavy hands hard

ty pounds. Gene stumbled backward, her shoulder blades slamming ha

ge to retaliate, the swinging louvered door

walk

hest rising and falling slightly from a morning run. The moment he

aids stopped breathing. Bridget's face drained

pped right in front of Bridget. The sheer size of him, rad

ice was a terrifying, quiet whisper, "to

her. "Sir-Mr. Gallagher-she d

and was absolute. "I saw a pathetic em

turned his head slightly toward the door

perty in ten minutes. And make sure she is blacklisted in the in

pleading, invoking Eleanor's name. Donte didn't blink. The securit

en was de

ied staff. He walked over to Gene. His dark ey

machine. He grabbed a fresh bag of beans, ground them, an

round. He held out a small porcelai

e trash yourself," Donte murmu

st his warm knuckles. A jolt of electricity shot up her arm. She lo

echoed from

in absolute horror at the sight of the untouchable Don

Chapter End

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Reborn From Ashes: Divorcing The Billionaire

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“I was tied to a concrete pillar in an abandoned warehouse, the heavy stench of gasoline suffocating me. Ten steps away, a masked kidnapper slammed a loaded Glock onto a metal barrel and forced my husband, Alvie, to make a sick choice. "The wife or the mistress. You only get to walk out of here with one." Alvie didn't even blink. He walked straight toward the dark corner where his mistress, Gail, was crying. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, shielding her, and guided her toward the exit. He never looked back. He didn't cast a single glance over his shoulder. To him, I was already a corpse, just trash left on the pavement. The kidnapper laughed and tossed a lighter onto the soaked concrete floor. A wall of ghostly blue fire erupted instantly, swallowing me whole. The absolute agony of my skin blistering and melting shattered my sanity. In my last moments, consumed by the inferno, I couldn't understand how the man I had loved and served so submissively could leave me to burn alive. My heartbreak quickly morphed into a hatred far deeper than the flames. Then, I violently jerked awake. I shot up from the bed, gasping for cold air, my hands frantically checking my perfectly smooth, unburned skin. I looked at the desk clock. I had returned to exactly four years ago, the morning of the annual Gallagher family gathering. The fragile, naive wife died in that warehouse. This time, I am going to destroy them both.”