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Reborn Heiress: The Wolf's Vengeance Deal Novel Cover

Reborn Heiress: The Wolf's Vengeance Deal

I lay paralyzed on stiff white sheets, a prisoner in my own skin, listening to the rain lash against the window like nails on a coffin. My father, Elmore Franco, didn't even look at my face as he checked his clipboard. He just listened to the steady, monotonous beep of the heart monitor-the only thing proving I was still alive. Without a hint of remorse, he pulled a pen from his pocket and signed the Do Not Resuscitate order. My stepmother, Ophelia, stepped out from behind him, wearing my favorite pearl necklace and smelling of cloying perfume. She leaned close to my ear to whisper the truth that turned my blood to ice. "It was the tea, darling. Just like your mother. A slow, tasteless poison." She chuckled as she revealed that my fiancé, Bryce, had a two-year-old son with my sister, Daniela. My inheritance had been funding their secret life for years, and now that the money was secure, I was an inconvenience they were finally scrubbing away. As my father yanked the power cord from the wall, the beeping died, and the darkness swallowed me whole. I was being murdered by my own flesh and blood, used as a bank account until I was no longer needed. I died in that sterile room, drowning in the realization that every person I ever loved was a monster who had been waiting for me to take my last breath. Then, I gasped. I woke up in a luxury hotel suite surrounded by silk sheets, five years in the past-the very morning of my wedding. Next to me lay Basile Delgado, the "Wolf of Wall Street" and my family's most dangerous enemy. In my first life, I ran from this room in a panic and lost everything. This time, I looked at the man who would eventually destroy my father's empire and decided to join him. "I'm not leaving, Basile. Marry me. Right now. Today."
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Chapter 8

A giant screen descended behind the altar.

It was meant for a slideshow of Celeste and Bryce's childhood photos.

A montage of their love story.

The projector hummed to life.

A photo appeared.

It was vivid. High definition.

It showed a yacht.

On the deck of the yacht, two people were intertwined.

Bryce.

And Daniela.

Bryce's hand was up Daniela's skirt.

Daniela's head was thrown back in laughter.

The timestamp in the corner of the photo was dated three months ago.

While Celeste was in Paris securing a deal for the family business.

The silence in the church was deafening.

Then, the murmurs started.

Like a wave crashing.

"That's fake!" Ophelia shrieked from the front row. "That's Photoshop!"

The slide changed.

It wasn't a photo this time.

It was a document.

A scanned copy of a birth certificate.

Child's Name: Adrian Franco Colon.

Mother: Daniela Franco.

Father: Bryce Colon.

Date of Birth: Two years ago.

Celeste gripped the microphone.

"Congratulations, Bryce," she said, her voice ringing with cold clarity. "You've been a father for two years. And congratulations, Daniela. Your son finally has a name."

She looked at her sister.

Daniela was standing in the aisle, her hands instinctively clutching her stomach.

The gesture confirmed everything.

The crowd went wild.

Phones were out.

People were recording.

Livestreaming.

Bryce looked like he was going to vomit.

He turned to Celeste.

"Celeste, please," he begged. "It was a mistake. She threw herself at me! I was drunk!"

Daniela let out a wail. "You said you loved me!"

Celeste looked at Bryce.

She looked at the man she had thought was her soulmate.

He was sweating.

He was pathetic.

"You're right," Celeste said into the mic. "It was a mistake."

She reached into her purse.

She pulled out the velvet ring box.

Inside was the three-carat diamond engagement ring he had given her.

A ring she later found out he had bought with her own money.

"I don't recycle," she said.

She tossed the box.

It sailed through the air.

It landed in the baptismal font with a loud plop.

Holy water splashed onto the stone floor.

"You're crazy!" Elmore shouted, rushing toward the altar. "You've ruined the family name!"

Celeste laughed.

It was a dry, humorless sound.

"The name was already ruined, Father," she said. "I'm just turning on the lights so everyone can see the rot."

She stepped down from the lectern.

She stood in front of Bryce.

He tried to grab her arm.

"We can fix this," he hissed. "Think about the merger. Think about the stock price."

Basile moved.

It was a blur of motion.

He kicked Bryce's legs out from under him.

Bryce hit the marble floor hard.

Basile planted a polished dress shoe on Bryce's chest, pinning him down.

"She's not thinking about your stock price, Colon," Basile said.

He pressed down.

Bryce wheezed.

"She's thinking about mine."

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