Reborn Heiress Marries My Ex-Fiancé's Brother

Reborn Heiress Marries My Ex-Fiancé's Brother

Lu Meng

5.0
Comment(s)
545
View
200
Chapters

Tonight was supposed to be the night I became the happiest woman in D.C., celebrating my engagement at the legendary Bolton Manor gala. I wore emerald silk and a diamond that cost more than most mansions, convinced that Hank Bolton was my soulmate and the key to my family's future. But behind the heavy oak doors of the guest wing, the dream died. I found my fiancé tangled with another woman, laughing about how I was nothing more than a "clueless cash cow" whose inheritance would fund his run for the Senate. In my first life, I reacted with tears and screams, which only allowed his family to paint me as an unstable lunatic. They stripped me of my dignity, bankrupted the Adams estate, and watched coldly as my brother, Lucas, died in a ditch trying to save me. I ended up gasping for air in a burning building, realizing too late that my perfect engagement was actually my execution. I died in the soot and the shadows, feeling the searing heat of a betrayal that burned worse than the fire. I lost everything because I was too blind to see the monsters hiding behind expensive smiles. But then, I suddenly gasped for air and realized the smoke was gone. I was standing in front of a vanity, the calendar mocking me: October 14th. The night of the gala. I had been given a second chance, and this time, I wasn't going to be the victim. I recorded the betrayal on my phone and walked into the library with a heart made of ice. I didn't just blow up the engagement; I demanded a new groom-Hank's "invalid" older brother, Dereck, a man the world had written off as a dying recluse. "I'll take him," I told the stunned family. I wanted a husband who couldn't cheat, a puppet who would leave me a wealthy widow within a year. I thought I was choosing a safe, broken man to shield me from my enemies. I didn't know that under his blanket, Dereck was hiding a holster, or that the "dying" man was actually a predator who had been waiting for someone exactly like me to walk into his trap.

Reborn Heiress Marries My Ex-Fiancé's Brother Chapter 1 No.1

Annette Adams gasped, her lungs seizing as if they were still filled with smoke. Her hands flew to her throat, clawing at skin that should have been charred, expecting the searing heat of a bullet, the crushing weight of a collapsing beam. But there was no fire. There was no blood.

There was only the scent of expensive lilies and the cool, conditioned air of the Bolton Manor guest wing.

Her chest heaved, a frantic, ragged rhythm that echoed in the silent room. She scrambled backward, her heels catching on the plush Persian rug, until her back hit the vanity table. The mirror rattled. Her eyes, wide and terrified, locked onto the reflection staring back at her.

Smooth skin. No scars. No soot. Her hair was styled in perfect, glossy waves, not singed at the ends.

She looked down at her hands. They were trembling, but they were whole. The diamond engagement ring on her left hand caught the light-a mocking sparkle that made her stomach lurch.

She grabbed the calendar sitting on the vanity. October 14th.

The date was printed in elegant black font, but to Annette, it looked like a tombstone. It was the night of the engagement gala. The night her life had originally begun its descent into hell.

The memories hit her like a physical blow-the betrayal, the public humiliation, the years of misery that followed, and finally, the coup, the fire, the darkness.

She wasn't dead. She was back.

A wave of nausea rolled through her gut. She gripped the edge of the mahogany table, her knuckles turning white, forcing herself to breathe. In. Out. The panic began to recede, replaced by a cold, sharp clarity that settled in the center of her chest like a stone.

She turned her head. Hanging on the back of the door was the dress-the emerald green silk gown she had worn that night. The night she was supposed to be the happiest woman in D.C.

Annette stood up. Her legs felt heavy, but steady. She walked to the dress, running a finger down the cool fabric. Last time, she had put this on with stars in her eyes, believing Hank Bolton was her soulmate. Last time, she had run down the hall to show him, only to find him...

She closed her eyes. The script was playing out in her head. Right now, Hank wasn't waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. He was in the Blue Room. With Elena.

Annette opened her eyes. The fear was gone. In its place was a simmering, poisonous rage that felt almost comforting.

She moved to the mirror. She picked up a tube of dark red lipstick. Her hand didn't shake this time. She applied it with precision, watching her lips turn the color of dried blood. It looked like war paint.

"Not this time," she whispered, her voice raspy but firm.

She stepped out into the hallway. The muffled sound of a string quartet drifted up from the ballroom below, a stark contrast to the silence of the corridor. The air smelled of floor wax and old money.

She didn't head for the stairs. She turned left, toward the East Guest Wing.

She slipped her high heels off, holding them in one hand, moving silently across the carpet in her stockings. Her steps were practiced, a skill she hadn't possessed as a socialite, but one she had learned in the years of hiding that followed.

A maid turned the corner, carrying a tray of champagne flutes. Annette didn't panic. She simply raised a finger to her lips, her expression imperious and cold. The maid froze, nodded nervously, and hurried away.

Annette reached the heavy oak door of the Blue Room.

She didn't need to press her ear against it. The sounds were faint, but unmistakable. The low, guttural moan of a man. The high-pitched giggle of a woman.

Hank.

Bile rose in her throat, acidic and burning. She swallowed it down. Last time, she had burst in, screaming, crying, making a scene that Bernadine had used to paint her as unstable.

Not today.

She reached into her clutch and pulled out her phone. She tapped the screen, switching to video mode, and disabled the flash. Her thumb hovered over the record button.

She gripped the cold brass handle. She turned it slowly, millimeter by millimeter, until the latch clicked silently.

She pushed the door open just a crack. A sliver of light from the hallway cut into the dim room.

Inside, on the velvet chaise lounge, two figures were tangled together. Hank's shirt was unbuttoned, his face buried in the neck of a woman with blonde, disheveled hair. Elena Vance.

"Don't worry, baby," Hank whispered, his voice thick with lust. "Once the merger is signed, the Adams fortune pays for the Senate run. I just need her signature."

Elena laughed, a sound that grated on Annette's nerves like sandpaper. "She's such a clueless cash cow, isn't she? Does she even know what a Senate seat is?"

"She thinks it's a type of chair," Hank joked.

Annette felt nothing. No heartbreak. No shock. Just a profound, icy disgust. She lifted the phone, angling the lens through the crack.

The screen captured them perfectly. Hank's face. Elena's face. The audio of their mockery.

She held it for exactly ten seconds. One. Two. Three.

Enough.

She pulled the phone back and gently pulled the door shut. The latch clicked back into place.

She leaned against the wall for a moment, reviewing the footage. The image was clear. The audio was crisp. It was a weapon, far more dangerous than a gun in this world.

She tapped a few buttons, uploading the file to a draft in a secure, encrypted email account Lucas had insisted on setting up for her years ago for emergencies-an account she'd almost forgotten about until this very moment.

She slipped the phone back into her clutch and slid her feet back into her heels. She adjusted the diamond drop earrings that hung heavy from her lobes. She smoothed the silk of her dress over her hips.

Her reflection in the hallway mirror showed a woman who looked like a queen, but her eyes were dead. They were the eyes of a soldier who had seen the end of the world.

Annette began the long walk to the main staircase.

As she reached the top of the grand marble stairs, she looked down. The ballroom was a sea of tuxedos and designer gowns. Waiters moved like ants with silver trays. The chandelier above cast a golden glow over the lies and the posturing.

She spotted them near the fountain. Edward Bolton, the patriarch, looking stern and powerful. And beside him, her brother, Lucas Adams.

Lucas looked bored, checking his watch. He had no idea that in three years, he would die in a ditch, trying to protect her.

Annette's heart squeezed, a sharp, physical pain that nearly doubled her over. She gripped the banister, the cold marble grounding her. I will save you, she promised silently. I will save us all.

She took the first step down. She didn't descend as a victim walking to her execution. She descended as a predator entering a pen of sheep.

Continue Reading

Other books by Lu Meng

More
The Billionaire's Secret Heir: Sign the Divorce

The Billionaire's Secret Heir: Sign the Divorce

Modern

5.0

I spent three years as the perfect, silent wife to billionaire Ezequiel Sanford, enduring a marriage colder than the marble floors of our Manhattan mansion. The day I finally saw two pink lines on a pregnancy test was the same day my world burned down. I found Ezequiel at the hospital, but he wasn't there for me. He was cradling his ex-girlfriend, Alexa, with a gentleness he had never shown me, while my own father was being rushed into the ICU after a suicide attempt triggered by our family's bankruptcy. Instead of comfort, Ezequiel handed me divorce papers. He had checked a box that read "No Issue of Marriage," effectively erasing any claim I had to his legacy. He blackmailed me, promising to save my father’s company only if I signed away every cent of alimony and walked away with nothing. When Alexa called him claiming an emergency, Ezequiel shoved me aside so violently I hit the sharp corner of his glass desk. As I collapsed to the floor, clutching my abdomen in sudden, searing pain, he didn't even look back. "Stop acting," he sneered, his voice dripping with disgust. "It’s pathetic. I will never love you, Claudia, no matter how many times you fall down." He walked out to be with her, leaving me bleeding on his office carpet with the secret he had spent years trying to avoid. He thought I was a gold-digger faking a crisis, never realizing I was actually carrying the Sanford heir he claimed didn't exist. Now, I’m hiding in a private clinic while my husband’s security team scours the city for me. My childhood friend just handed me a one-way ticket to Paris and a chance to restart the medical career I sacrificed for a lie. The money just hit my father's account. I’m signing the papers and disappearing. By the time Ezequiel realizes what he’s lost, I’ll be a world away, and he’ll never even know my child’s name.

You'll also like

Woke Up Married To A Secret Zillionaire

Woke Up Married To A Secret Zillionaire

Amelia Rivers
5.0

I went to the New York City Clerk's office to handle a simple administrative matter, but the woman behind the glass handed me a nightmare instead. It was a certified marriage license from Clark County, Nevada, filed exactly three months ago. My vision blurred as I read the name in the spouse field: Baxter Noel. I was legally married to the ruthless billionaire whose legal team was currently suing me for intellectual property theft and trying to destroy my career. I remembered the conference in Las Vegas and a drink that tasted far too sweet, followed by a twelve-hour black hole in my memory that I had chalked up to exhaustion. When I sought help at my family's estate, my stepmother and sister didn't offer comfort; they stole my passport, shredded my clothes, and framed me for academic plagiarism to strip away my university fellowship. Even Baxter himself looked me in the eye with cold indifference, claiming he didn't know me and promising to have me arrested for fraud if I ever showed him that document again. Within twenty-four hours, I was homeless, jobless, and being hunted by the most powerful man in the city. I couldn't understand why a man who "eats people for breakfast" would be caught in the same trap as a struggling scientist like me. The confusion turned to pure terror when I looked at the witness signature on the license: Gene Mcclain. My mother, who was supposed to have died in a car crash ten years ago, had signed that paper with a fresh, trembling hand only ninety days ago. "I am holding a grenade, and I have no idea when the pin was pulled." Standing in the biting November wind with nothing but a laptop and a marriage license, I realized I was just a pawn in a much deadlier game. I stopped running and began to fight back, determined to use my unwanted status as the billionaire's wife to uncover the truth about the mother who came back from the dead.

The Billionaire's Secret Twins: Her Revenge

The Billionaire's Secret Twins: Her Revenge

Shearwater
4.5

I was four months pregnant, weighing over two hundred pounds, and my heart was failing from experimental treatments forced on me as a child. My doctor looked at me with clinical detachment and told me I was in a death sentence: if I kept the baby, I would die, and if I tried to remove it, I would die. Desperate for a lifeline, I called my father, Francis Acosta, to tell him I was sick and pregnant. I expected a father's love, but all I got was a cold, sharp blade of a voice. "Then do it quietly," he said. "Don't embarrass Candi. Her debutante ball is coming up." He didn't just reject me; he erased me. My trust fund was frozen, and I was told I was no longer an Acosta. My fiancé, Auston, had already discarded me, calling me a "bloated whale" while he looked for a thinner, wealthier replacement. I left New York on a Greyhound bus, weeping into a bag of chips, a broken woman the world considered a mistake. I couldn't understand how my own father could tell me to die "quietly" just to save face for a party. I didn't know why I had been a lab rat for my family’s pharmaceutical ambitions, or how they could sleep at night while I was left to rot in the gray drizzle of the city. Five years later, the doors of JFK International Airport slid open. I stepped onto the marble floor in red-soled stilettos, my body lean, lethal, and carved from years of blood and sweat. I wasn't the "whale" anymore; I was a ghost coming back to haunt them. With my daughter by my side and a medical reputation that terrified the global elite, I was ready to dismantle the Acosta empire piece by piece. "Tell Francis to wash his neck," I whispered to the skyline. "I'm home."

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book
Reborn Heiress Marries My Ex-Fiancé's Brother Reborn Heiress Marries My Ex-Fiancé's Brother Lu Meng Modern
“Tonight was supposed to be the night I became the happiest woman in D.C., celebrating my engagement at the legendary Bolton Manor gala. I wore emerald silk and a diamond that cost more than most mansions, convinced that Hank Bolton was my soulmate and the key to my family's future. But behind the heavy oak doors of the guest wing, the dream died. I found my fiancé tangled with another woman, laughing about how I was nothing more than a "clueless cash cow" whose inheritance would fund his run for the Senate. In my first life, I reacted with tears and screams, which only allowed his family to paint me as an unstable lunatic. They stripped me of my dignity, bankrupted the Adams estate, and watched coldly as my brother, Lucas, died in a ditch trying to save me. I ended up gasping for air in a burning building, realizing too late that my perfect engagement was actually my execution. I died in the soot and the shadows, feeling the searing heat of a betrayal that burned worse than the fire. I lost everything because I was too blind to see the monsters hiding behind expensive smiles. But then, I suddenly gasped for air and realized the smoke was gone. I was standing in front of a vanity, the calendar mocking me: October 14th. The night of the gala. I had been given a second chance, and this time, I wasn't going to be the victim. I recorded the betrayal on my phone and walked into the library with a heart made of ice. I didn't just blow up the engagement; I demanded a new groom-Hank's "invalid" older brother, Dereck, a man the world had written off as a dying recluse. "I'll take him," I told the stunned family. I wanted a husband who couldn't cheat, a puppet who would leave me a wealthy widow within a year. I thought I was choosing a safe, broken man to shield me from my enemies. I didn't know that under his blanket, Dereck was hiding a holster, or that the "dying" man was actually a predator who had been waiting for someone exactly like me to walk into his trap.”
1

Chapter 1 No.1

22/01/2026

2

Chapter 2 No.2

22/01/2026

3

Chapter 3 No.3

22/01/2026

4

Chapter 4 No.4

22/01/2026

5

Chapter 5 No.5

22/01/2026

6

Chapter 6 No.6

22/01/2026

7

Chapter 7 No.7

22/01/2026

8

Chapter 8 No.8

22/01/2026

9

Chapter 9 No.9

22/01/2026

10

Chapter 10 No.10

22/01/2026

11

Chapter 11 No.11

22/01/2026

12

Chapter 12 No.12

22/01/2026

13

Chapter 13 No.13

22/01/2026

14

Chapter 14 No.14

22/01/2026

15

Chapter 15 No.15

22/01/2026

16

Chapter 16 No.16

22/01/2026

17

Chapter 17 No.17

22/01/2026

18

Chapter 18 No.18

22/01/2026

19

Chapter 19 No.19

22/01/2026

20

Chapter 20 No.20

22/01/2026

21

Chapter 21 No.21

22/01/2026

22

Chapter 22 No.22

22/01/2026

23

Chapter 23 No.23

22/01/2026

24

Chapter 24 No.24

22/01/2026

25

Chapter 25 No.25

22/01/2026

26

Chapter 26 No.26

22/01/2026

27

Chapter 27 No.27

22/01/2026

28

Chapter 28 No.28

22/01/2026

29

Chapter 29 No.29

22/01/2026

30

Chapter 30 No.30

22/01/2026

31

Chapter 31 No.31

22/01/2026

32

Chapter 32 No.32

22/01/2026

33

Chapter 33 No.33

22/01/2026

34

Chapter 34 No.34

22/01/2026

35

Chapter 35 No.35

22/01/2026

36

Chapter 36 No.36

22/01/2026

37

Chapter 37 No.37

22/01/2026

38

Chapter 38 No.38

22/01/2026

39

Chapter 39 No.39

22/01/2026

40

Chapter 40 No.40

22/01/2026