Reborn Heiress: Marrying The Wall Street Emperor

Chapter 3

Word Count: 649 | Released on: 27/05/2026

n to circle her slowly, his eyes raking over her as if a

agree to that?" he finally ask

umont's only daughter. The undisputed heiress to

a feeling you hate to lose. Ensuring the Walton family fails to secur

. She saw it in the slig

se on a nearby chair. She pulled out a folded docume

tion. Her signature, clear and de

oice firm. She had spent the dark hours of the early morning arranging for

curve of her signature. A complex emotion flic

ent for a

s voice cold as steel

over Chloe, but she kept

ropping to a low, possessive growl. "I set the ru

f double doors. "Get dressed. We lea

n closet the size of a small boutique. One side was a metic

er side that m

's clothing. Gowns, dresses, casual wear. And the size

of layered chiffon. The design was hers. A sketch tucked away in a private no

st the one dress. There were at least five others hanging in a row, each o

culately constructed, in

rfaced. Had he been wat

seem to draw

wn. Revenge first. Ever

the rack. This one was also her design. As she slipped it on, the fabric felt alien agai

of the closet, her fa

charcoal suit making him seem even more formidable. His eyes swept over her, lingering for a second

id no

of questions raging inside h

her voice steady. "Le

Chapter End

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Reborn Heiress: Marrying The Wall Street Emperor

Sibeal Sallese Modern

“Chloe lay paralyzed on the cold hospital gurney, feeling the steady drain of her blood into an IV bag meant to save her stepsister. Then, through the cracked door, she heard the chilling voice of her fiancé, Arthur. He wasn't just draining her blood; he was waiting to cut out her heart. "It's an honor for her to trade her life for Kaitlyn's health," her adoptive father sneered. Arthur casually added that once Chloe was dead, her mother's trust fund and the family company shares would finally be theirs. To her absolute horror, they even bragged about how they had orchestrated her mother's death, laughing as they called it a perfect accident. The family she had trusted and the man she had loved for years had murdered her mother and were now butchering her for her fortune. A desperate, primal rage flooded her veins. She wanted to scream, to tear them apart, but the drugs kept her trapped in her dying body. With her last ounce of strength, she bit down hard on her own tongue and died. When she opened her eyes again, the smell of blood was gone. She was sitting in the lavish penthouse of New York's most ruthless billionaire, Julian Sterling. It was exactly five years ago, the day before her doomed wedding to Arthur. She had been reborn, and this time, she was going to drag them all to hell.”