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Reborn From Flames: The Billionaire's Bride

Reborn From Flames: The Billionaire's Bride

Author: Cornelia
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Chapter 1 

Word Count: 1393    |    Released on: Today at 11:15

cing its way down her throat, her lungs burning with searing pain. Each breath felt like inhaling shattered glass. Her vision blurred,

dead ye

lames. It was muffled by the heavy door, but the

or. She pressed her bleeding fingers against the gap benea

pent two years playing the devoted boyfriend just to get the security codes t

churned violently, nausea rising in her throat. Gaylen

cious delight. "You should know that Collin cut the brake line on your m

lower lip that she tasted copper. Betrayal ripped through

oom was violently thrown ope

een. Blade raised, blade plunged, he stabbed A

less bitch? Anse is almost here. Let them be a

body. Not because she loved Gaylen, but because only in dy

cent stepsister, the first love who swore eternal

people for who they truly were, that had led her dearest frien

the hatred was

ing crack and crashed down just a few feet away from her. A wave of scorching heat washed

d hinges screeched in protest. Another violent crash, and th

hrough the acri

elf onto the concrete floor, his tall frame fully covering her small, trembling body. Flames licked at his br

ts fall onto her collarbone, burning her skin more than any fire

with ash and blood. He pressed his lip

spered, his voice hoars

owing the world in a blinding, agonizing white light. Alia closed

ion of falling j

n was smooth and unharmed. A strange, electric tingling sensation vibrated at her fingertips. Her senses were unnaturally sharp, as if a raw nerve had been exposed to the world. F

avy velvet curtains blocking the windows-none of these belonged in a war

manicured nails. No blisters. No blood. Her hea

across her waist, pinning her to the sheets. The sheer

ing through the curtains illuminated the sharp jawl

Vand

t his broad shoulder to the digital clock on the nightstand. Th

d set her up to be discovered in bed with Ansel, ruining her reputat

murderous hatred in her chest. She gripped the silk she

slipped her fingers under his hea

t his was a mistake. The man beside he

lingering, violent haze. Before Alia could pull her hand back, his s

nstant, blocking the faint light. His chest heaved violently,

ered his head, his lips crashing onto hers with punishing force. He bit her lower lip, forcing

rock-hard chest, trying to push him away. Beneath her

d shed tears for her, the only one willing to embrace death beside her, was this man she had misunderstood and feared for half a lifetime. A complex wave of profound guilt,

microscopic fraction, searching her face for the disgust he expected. Finding none, he let out a groan

cheek, soaking into the pillow. She parted her lip

. The friction of their bodies gen

k oak door. The muffled, shuffling drag of

the side, breaking the kiss. She gasped for air, her eyes

whispered, her voice

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Reborn From Flames: The Billionaire's Bride
Reborn From Flames: The Billionaire's Bride
“Alia was trapped in a burning warehouse, the thick smoke tearing at her throat. Outside the heavy iron door, her stepsister Cherri laughed. "Gaylen never loved you. He spent two years playing the devoted boyfriend just to get the security codes to the Vanderbilt family vault. You were nothing but a convenient, stupid key." Cherri even revealed that Alia's stepfather had deliberately cut the brake lines on her mother's car. The betrayal tore through Alia's nervous system. As the burning roof collapsed, the iron door burst open. Ansel Vanderbilt, the ruthless Wall Street king she had feared her entire life, charged through the flames. His custom suit charred instantly as he shielded her small body with his own. He cried into her neck, choosing to burn to ashes right by her side. Until her last agonizing breath, Alia didn't understand. Why did her family hate her so much? And why was this terrifying man the only one willing to embrace death with her? Opening her eyes again, Alia wasn't dead. She was lying in the penthouse suite of the Waldorf Astoria, staring at Ansel's sleeping face. She had returned to exactly five years ago-the day her stepsister and boyfriend drugged her and set her up for a ruinous sex scandal. Hearing the chaotic footsteps of paparazzi approaching the door, a murderous hatred flooded her chest. This time, the real reckoning had just begun.”