Reborn Heiress: The Revenge She Deserves

Chapter 3 No.3

Word Count: 614 | Released on: 22/01/2026

ng with air so violently it fe

. She expected to feel the cold plastic of a s

ipped high-thread-count

didn't recognize immediately. The room was silent,

her head

arm up to a broad, muscular shoulder. On the nightstan

sleeping n

thing deeply, his chest rising and fall

fterlife? Hell? A cruel drea

d out. Her foot connec

combat stance before his eyes were even fully open. He sat

he table. He secured it over his face in on

lready?"

e of the tyrant, the man she had lived with for thr

heart pounding against her

heets. She rushed to the bathroom and slamm

r face, gasping. She stared a

looked younger, less tired. H

nter. Her fingers trembled so much she dr

ber 14

l tiles. A laugh bubbled up in her throat, hyst

r months. Florene had been laying the groundwork, manipulating finances, isolating her. The clock wasn't just ticking; it had already been running for a long time

iggered a

the door interr

uietly," Hiram said through the wo

hand to her mouth

he mirror again. The fear began to reced

ad. She had a

ilk pajamas. A new

the door an

oning a crisp white shirt. His back was

uperimposed the image of the weeping m

vowed silently. And I will find out

Chapter End

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Reborn Heiress: The Revenge She Deserves

Yan Shui Modern

“The rain was a solid sheet of gray as the black SUV rammed into my car, sending me spiraling over the guardrail. As the glass shattered and the world turned upside down, a searing pain ripped through my chest before everything went cold and dark. I didn't stay in the darkness. My spirit hovered ten feet in the air, watching the steam hiss from my mangled sedan. I followed the magnetic pull of my soul back to my family estate, expecting to find them devastated. Instead, I found my stepmother, Florene, and my sister, Kassidy, pouring vintage champagne and laughing in the drawing room. "To the end of the nuisance," Florene said, her eyes gleaming with greed. "The trust fund unlocks at midnight. We're finally rich." The betrayal cut deeper than the metal that killed me, but the real shock came at my funeral. Hiram Tyson-the cold, masked husband I'd spent three years fearing-collapsed over my closed casket. He unbuckled his silver mask, revealing a face ruined by scars, and sobbed a name I hadn't heard since childhood. "I'm sorry, Angel. I thought keeping you at arm's length would keep the darkness away." He wasn't the monster I thought he was. He was the boy I had saved at the orphanage years ago, and he had been protecting me in silence while my own family plotted my murder. I reached out to touch him, but the world exploded into a blinding white light. When I opened my eyes, I wasn't in a casket. I was back in our bedroom, feeling the heavy weight of Hiram's arm across my waist. The calendar on the nightstand read September 14, 2023-exactly one year before the crash. I looked at the silver mask resting on the table and felt a cold, hard determination settle in my chest. This time, I wasn't going to be the victim. I was going to be the villain in their story and burn their world to the ground.”