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Reborn Heiress: Revenge On My Wedding Day

Chapter 2 No.2

Word Count: 960 | Released on: 03/02/2026

moved slowly, telegraphing every motion, like Ar

aid. "Soy milk

e mug. Then she l

index finger. A callus. It looked out of place on a man whose supposed life of leisure consisted of reading and going to the gym. It was hard, worn skin. The kind you got fr

uldn't. The phantom taste of bitter

didn't come closer. He stayed

swer, the main door

ning, Mrs

, the spy Chloe had planted

contained her gala dress. She was smiling, that brig

e hook. She turned to Aria, her eyes scanning Aria's face. "D

oison that had weakened Aria fo

, flooded Aria's syste

, Bella?" Aria asked. Her

.. I went home, ma

and picked up her iPad. She didn'

. And you didn't use the service elevator. You used th

floor except an empty unit ow

k. "I don't know what

"Get out. Now. Leave your

ed at Kane. "Mr. Holt,

ked at K

ria why she was firing their staff on th

k one step

a. He crossed his arms. His biceps bulged against the cotton of his sh

d her," K

e had lost whatever game she was playing, and threw the

ence re

th fifty thousand dollars, shimmered in the light. It was the dress Jordan

esk and grabbed the

to stop her. He leaned back aga

queezed the shears. The sound of expensive fabric tearing

e cut until the dress was st

issors. They clatt

he ground today," Aria said, turnin

ed dress, then at Aria'

iption?" he asked. His t

d and something sharp, like metal. She reached up and fixed the collar o

," Aria whispered. "Your

uch. He went rigid for a second,

e softer now, a careful performance. "Not the limo. The Ma

we going? T

id. "The secu

the corner of his mouth twitched upward. I

nutes,"

d and wa

he code. She took out the digital recorder she now kn

t put on the white dress. She put on a

or and applied a coat

bach, Kane tapped a message into

awake. Sta

ger door and slid in.

Chapter End

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Reborn Heiress: Revenge On My Wedding Day

Lucy Cartwright Modern

“I lay paralyzed in a luxury Swiss clinic, my body a heavy sack of meat I no longer controlled. The heart monitor's rhythmic beep was the only thing louder than the silence, a mocking countdown to my inevitable end. My fiancé, Jordan, walked in looking impeccable in the custom suit I had bought him for his birthday. He wasn't alone; my best friend, Chloe, followed him into the room, wearing the vintage Givenchy dress I had saved for our anniversary gala. Jordan didn't look like a grieving man; he looked bored as he held up a blue folder confirming that my family's offshore trust had finally cleared. Chloe giggled, leaning over me to ask if I finally realized it was the engagement wine she had spiked seven days ago. Jordan brushed a cold hand over my forehead, calling me a "perfect little asset" before pulling Chloe into a hungry kiss right over my dying body. To ensure there was no turning back, he pulled out a silver lighter and set my living will on fire, watching the only document that could have saved me turn to ash. I tried to scream, to curse them both to hell for stealing my life and my legacy, but all that came out was a wet, rattling wheeze. My own father, I would later learn, had known about the takeover and chose the profit over his own daughter's life. As the darkness swallowed me whole, I made a silent, desperate promise: if there was anything after this, I would come back and destroy every single one of them. I gasped, my body jerking upright as air rushed into my lungs like liquid fire. I wasn't in Switzerland, and there was no poison in my veins. I was back in my Manhattan bedroom, staring at a phone that read June 12-the morning of the wedding, the day I was supposed to die, and the day I decided to burn their world to the ground.”