Reborn From The Lake: My Stoic Savior

Chapter 10

Word Count: 798 | Released on: 30/04/2026

outh to call out to him, the sc

plate of sliced bread. Her eyes instantl

able and yelled, "Mr. Potts!" She p

polite, tight smile that didn't reach his eyes. It was the smile

it vigorously, her voice loud with gratitude, thank

grip. His voice was flat and devoid of emotion. He said it w

d, physically angling his b

ath. She aggressively insisted that he come insi

s shoulder, looking at Bridget on the porch,

. She held his gaze, a faint, amused smirk playing on her l

th irritation. He misread her confidence as the same obsessive,

an answer without causing a scene, Drake cle

ned sideways to let him pass. As he brushed by her, the

room. A pot of cheap beef stew and

cross from Bridget. His broad shoulders ma

n excuse about needing a different serving spoon and

e stove echoed. Brenda, the sister-in-law, was intentiona

chen door. He instantly read the to

e bear. She used a smooth, adult tone, asking him i

a piece of bread with aggressive force. H

wasn't offended. She found his

udied the sharp lines of his face and the long

. He looked up, his eyes blazing with cold warning. He told her to stop l

om. She realized he still thought she

mouth to put hi

nt chill ripped t

e. She grabbed the edge of the wooden

with the massive adrenaline crash from fighting Julie

cowled, thinking she was faking an illness to g

spun. She opened her mouth to tell him she w

. Her grip on the table failed. She pitched fo

anly fast. He kicked his chair back violently, his large frame vaulting around the corner of the cramped table in a blur. Just a fraction o

Chapter End

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Reborn From The Lake: My Stoic Savior

Janna Lemay Romance

“Bridget, a ruthless twenty-first-century Wall Street analyst, woke up violently coughing up murky lake water in a decaying 1978 slum. She quickly realized she was trapped in the body of a naive, marginalized teenager who had just committed suicide over a boy's cruel rejection. The original girl had been mercilessly bullied by a fake rich kid named Kurtis and his cruel followers. They had publicly read her desperate love letters out loud, mocking her as a toad trying to eat swan meat, and simply watched as she threw herself into the freezing water. Now, her impoverished mother was left weeping by the bed, facing catastrophic debt and total social ruin in their small town. Everyone expected the surviving girl to wake up begging and crying for the boy who humiliated her. Instead, a cold, calculating fury took over Bridget's analytical mind. "I already died in that lake. That stupid girl is never coming back." How could anyone throw their life away for a pathetic, vain clown wearing a mass-produced fifty-dollar watch? To Bridget, those uncollected love letters weren't symbols of teenage heartbreak. They were toxic assets. They were reputation landmines left out in the open that threatened her new family's survival. Locking away the dead girl's weak emotions, Bridget forced her freezing, exhausted body out of the clinic bed. She set a hard three-month deadline to drag this family out of tier-one poverty. But first, she was marching straight to the volunteer camp to liquidate those liabilities and completely destroy the people who drove this body to death.”