Reborn Heiress: The Billionaire's Deadly Vow

Chapter 8

Word Count: 610 | Released on: Today at 14:50

whispered speculation, Alexandr slipped through a set of French doors onto a quiet, moonlit terrace. She leaned ag

adows behind her ma

quite a pe

a predatory smile on his handsome face. Inwardly, she se

you mean," she sa

ading her space. "I never realized you had su

ld easily manipulate, but as a powerful, intriguing asset. The memory of his

e corrected him sharply.

"Feisty. I like it. Come on, you and I... we wer

rst time, completely genuine. An idea sparked in her mind. She knew Braxton's eye

softened, becom

ly louder, carrying in the quiet garden, "you

used. "What are y

way to the ballroom, where she sensed a presence. "Take Mr. Shields, for example," she said, her voice filled with a fake, breathless a

ride. He hated being compared to Braxton Shields,

ffed. "He's just

oudly, playing her part.

ugh the darkness from the te

ndr and Je

a half-smile playing on his lips. He had b

le had paid off, but the reality of his presence,

d it was utterly glacial. "Woodwar

ion. It was an ord

being caught, shot a venomous glare at Alexandr

was alone with Braxton. The air

his eyes glinting in the moonlight. He took a

" he asked, his voice

p. She had his attention now, and it was more inte

Chapter End

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Reborn Heiress: The Billionaire's Deadly Vow

Felix Turner Modern

“I gave up everything to be the perfect fiancée to Jemal and the grateful sister to Claire. But as I lay dying on a cold warehouse floor, I watched them passionately kiss over my bleeding body. "Damn it, look at my suit. This was custom," Jemal complained, flicking my blood from his cuff. "Oh, don't be such a baby. She was always so gullible," Claire laughed, mocking my dying gasps. They admitted every promise and sisterly defense was a lie to steal my inheritance and save his bankrupt company. As my soul detached, the warehouse doors burst open. It was Braxton Shields, the ruthless Wall Street titan whose arranged engagement I had broken off years ago. The famously cold billionaire fell to his knees in my blood, his stoic mask shattering into raw agony. He gently cleaned my face, pulled out a hidden photo of me, and kissed my cold forehead. "I'm sorry, Alex. I was too late. I should have never let you go." Without hesitation, he drank a vial of poison and slumped dead beside me. The shock of his ultimate devotion and my own foolish blindness tore my soul apart. Why did I choose my murderers over the man who loved me enough to die for me? Opening my eyes again, I was back in my eighteen-year-old body. It was the exact day I was welcomed back into the toxic Vargas family from foster care. This time, they would all pay.”