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Reborn to Burn: The Heiress's Revenge

Chapter 9 

Word Count: 839    |    Released on: Today at 11:40

and stone steps of the Metropolitan Museum of Art as dozens

door, Alexis stepped out in silver heels and the emerald-green backless silk couture gown

, replaced by a custom black ebony cane held in his right hand. As his cold dark eyes swept the crowd, the chatt

hall, where hundreds of Wall Street tycoons and corporate heirs held champagne flutes. Near the champagne tower, three socialites covered their mouth

without breaking strid

chat. Would you like me to repeat

amora was talking with several fund partners when he turned and saw Alexis on Austyn's

he major media here tonight, how dare you han

ng to watch the drama unfold. Alexis didn

rding. By what right are y

e so half the hall could hear. "Everyone judge for yourselves-my

smile flashed across Colby's face as several

th his black ebony cane, the sharp th

rved his thin lips

ket before she tilted her chin up smoothly. Just then, the orchestra began a slow waltz. Austyn guided her onto the dance floor, his warm palm resting agai

me in three years. As the final note faded, Austyn suddenly tightened his arm, dipped her backwar

yn pulled back half an inch, his warm breath brushing her flushed cheek. Alexis stra

ross the floor. "Tonight she is my only invited companion, and Sharpe Capital's so

stamped with the Sharpe offshore fund seal directly in front of the financial repo

e Davenport family side wit

footage of you fooling around with Bobbye at the Long Island private club three days ago onto the stone walls of the Met? And one more thing-th

rd the exit, knocking over a whole rack of champagne flutes on his way out. Across the hall, several members of the Sharpe family

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Reborn to Burn: The Heiress’s Revenge
Reborn to Burn: The Heiress's Revenge
“On the night of her wedding, Alexis Davenport was tied to a rusted steel pillar in a dark wine cellar, her couture gown soaked in her own blood. Her husband of three hours, Colby, casually flicked a lighter and sneered that he never loved her, only coveting her family's priceless tech patents. Beside him stood Bobbye, the orphaned cousin the Davenports had raised like a second daughter, who slapped Alexis and declared she was taking over her life. They brutally forced Alexis's crushed, bloody thumbprint onto the equity transfer papers. Then, Bobbye smiled and held up her phone, showing a live security feed of the Davenport estate engulfed in roaring flames, with Alexis's parents trapped inside. Colby poured industrial gasoline over Alexis's head and tossed the lighter. "Go reunite with your parents in hell." As the hungry fire swallowed her alive, unbearable hatred poisoned her dying mind. Her family had given them wealth, education, and unconditional love. Why did they slaughter them so ruthlessly? She swore if there was an afterlife, she would drag them both into the abyss. Suddenly, Alexis's eyes snapped open, gasping for air. The agonizing heat was gone. She was lying in a sterile hospital bed, her skin completely unblemished. She looked at the digital calendar on the wall: May 17, exactly three years ago. She had returned to the day of her engagement party. This time, she would ally with Wall Street's most dangerous tyrant and burn their lives to the ground.”