Reborn From Ashes: Divorcing The Billionaire

Chapter 7

Word Count: 781 | Released on: 09/05/2026

eaking the suffocating tension. Gene grabbed the lunchbox, stepped

s private elevator that went straight to the chairman's su

lid shut. The rapid ascent made Gene's stomach drop. Her

pened on the 68th floor. This was A

The plush, carpeted hallway was ent

et, making no sound. She headed straight for the heavy mahogan

et away, she stoppe

ully closed. It was cra

ad in her tracks, holding her breath to listen. Only then could she barely make out the muffled, w

voice, breathy

e're doing this on the leather sof

out that boring bitch. Even if she knew, she wouldn't

Gene like a

e, the absolute betrayal-crashed down on

hin to breathe. Her hands started to shake uncontrolla

or. It was going to make a

the carpet, a large hand swooped d

ed and sp

his chest almost brushed her back. He set the lunchbox d

ok of pure, murderous rage flashed across his face

His lips were in

whispered. His breath

he door. Her body was locked in a state of frozen panic. She co

forward. He didn't o

warm hand and placed it flat a

It was a solid, grounding pressure. It was an an

ed, his voice a dark, hypnotic command.

e trembling in her hands stopped. The panic in her ches

he muscles in her back f

er fingers around the cold bra

step back, melting into the shadows

ved the

open and slammed against th

wo bodies tangled on the

pulling his unbuttoned dress shirt ove

s throat. His eyes b

amed by the hallway light. Sh

cover her bare chest. Her carefully crafte

ked at the disgusting mess on the sofa, and a

Chapter End

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Reborn From Ashes: Divorcing The Billionaire

Xiaoxiao Yunduoer Modern

“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.”