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Reborn Heiress: Dragging Traitors To Hell

Chapter 4 No.4

Word Count: 848 | Released on: 22/01/2026

entrance, killing the engine. The silence

hin soles of her shoes. The night air was cri

tudy had floor-to-ceiling windows.

A glass of amber liquid sat on the table beside him. His jacket wa

ehind, the slump of his shoulder

side door. She trie

facing the river; he liked the sound of the water. It wasn't a flaw in the lock, but a

and lifted. It yielded to her touc

epped

and expensive scotch. It was a masculine s

sound on the Persian

irled the liquid in his g

mself. His voice was low, rough like gravel. "Let t

t giving up his leverage, giving up the only thing that kept

e choked it back, but the soun

e cat-like. In a split second, he was on his feet

didn't leave his face. It morphe

yce

e it was a question

lightly in her black dress,

she wh

ed the room behind her, looking

as ice. "Did you bribe the securi

he code,"

twitch of his eye, but sh

ing a barrier. "If you're here to tell me what a disappointme

xt," Kaycee said, t

aining the distance. "I saw it. 'Don't bo

ds Corrine. "That wasn't me. Corri

Because Corrine is the villain and you're just

er, p

enough now to see the dark circles un

need money? Did Aldo max out the credit cards again? Jus

er. He expected her to be a leech. B

her purse

your money," s

e could retreat further, she threw her arms ar

ir, unsure, afraid to touch her. He stood li

shirt. The cotton was warm and smelled of

red. "Stop. Is this a game

s chest, tightening her grip.

g against her cheek. It w

the word stripped

truth slipping out before she could stop it. "Be

er shoulders. He didn't push her away. But he didn't hug

Chapter End

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Reborn Heiress: Dragging Traitors To Hell

Gertrude Mafia

“The world was a symphony of agony, played on the strings of my own body. I was tied to a chair in a damp basement, the metallic tang of blood filling my mouth as my fingernails were ripped from their beds by a pair of rusty pliers. My best friend, Corrine, stepped into the flickering light wearing my favorite Chanel suit and the engagement ring that was supposed to be mine. Beside her, my fiancé Aldo held the pliers, his voice smooth and cultured as he demanded I sign over my entire inheritance to them. As I struggled, a news report flashed on an old TV in the corner: Hunter Gallagher, the man I had treated like dirt but who had always tried to protect me, was dead in a horrific car explosion. Corrine laughed, whispering in my ear that they had lured him to his death using a fake kidnapping tip. He died trying to save me from a trap set by the people I trusted most. They didn't just want my money; they wanted to erase me. They plunged a needle full of heroin into my neck, watching with cold, mocking eyes as my heart hammered against my ribs and finally seized into nothingness. I died in that basement, a blind, spoiled girl who had let her true protector be murdered. As the darkness closed in, my soul burned with a single, silent vow: If I ever get another life, I will drag you both to hell with me. Suddenly, I gasped for air, my lungs fighting against a weight that wasn't there. I wasn't in the basement; I was in my own bed, my fingernails intact and my skin unbroken. I checked my phone, and my heart stopped-it was May 20th, exactly one year before my death. Hunter was still alive, and this time, I wasn't the prey.”