Reborn To Ruin: The Jilted Heiress's Revenge

I lay on a mildewed mattress in a run-down motel, my body trembling from withdrawal. Once the most feared "Gossip Queen" in Hollywood, I was now a forty-three-year-old ghost staring at a cracked mirror, waiting for the end. The door clicked open, and Brittany Potts stepped in, looking immaculate in a beige trench coat that cost more than my life. She didn't come to help; she tossed a waiver of marital assets onto my bed and handed me a cup of coffee laced with something that smelled like bitter almonds. She laughed, telling me my husband, Bennet, was already in the Bahamas celebrating my death. I froze when I saw the sapphire pendant around her neck—my mother’s necklace, which had vanished the day she died. As the poison began to burn through my chest, Brittany leaned in and whispered her final secret: she was the one who cut the brake lines on the car that killed my father when we were teenagers. My entire life had been a lie. The pills, the scandal, the bankruptcy—it was all a masterpiece of betrayal orchestrated by the two people I trusted most. I died on that filthy floor, suffocating on my own rage and the taste of chemicals, praying for a single chance to make them pay. But when I opened my eyes, the pain was gone. I was sitting in my old bedroom, the morning sun shining on a calendar that read September 15, 2024. My mother’s voice, warm and alive, called me for breakfast from downstairs. I was eighteen again, back in my senior year at Crestview Academy, and the monsters who destroyed me were still pretending to be my friends. This time, I’m the one who holds the shears.

Chapters

Chapter 9

The next morning, Chelsea tried to convince herself that she had hallucinated the intensity of the encounter on the roof.

She dressed carefully. The uniform skirt, the blazer, the knee socks. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail. She needed to look harmless.

She walked toward the school entrance, scanning for the security booth. Usually, Old Man Miller sat there, asleep.

But today, the booth was empty.

Instead, a figure was leaning against the gate.

Hale.

He was wearing the uniform again, but he had tailored it. The shirt fit his broad chest perfectly, the sleeves strained against his biceps. He wore aviator sunglasses, hiding his eyes, but Chelsea felt his gaze lock onto her the moment she stepped off the bus.

He was holding a clipboard, looking like the gatekeeper of hell.

Chelsea put her head down, trying to blend into a group of freshmen.

"Molina," his voice cut through the chatter.

She froze. Students parted around her like water around a stone.

She looked up. He beckoned her over with a single finger.

She walked over, hugging her books to her chest. "Is there a problem, Officer?"

He lowered his sunglasses, looking over the rim. "Your collar is crooked."

"What?"

Before Chelsea could react, he reached out. His fingers brushed the skin of her neck-warm, rough, electric. He adjusted the collar of her blouse, smoothing it down.

The intimacy of the gesture was shocking. It was something a lover would do, not a security guard.

Chelsea's breath hitched.

"There," he said, his voice low. "Much better."

"Get your hands off her!"

Bennet's voice.

Chelsea turned. Bennet and Brittany were standing there. Bennet looked furious, his face red. Brittany looked confused, looking back and forth between the guard and Chelsea.

"Who do you think you are touching a student like that?" Bennet demanded, stepping forward, puffing out his chest.

The guard slowly turned his head. He didn't take off the sunglasses. He just stared at Bennet.

The silence stretched. It became heavy, suffocating. He didn't say a word. He just radiated an aura of absolute, terrifying authority.

Bennet faltered. He stopped walking. His bravado evaporated. He looked like a poodle barking at a wolf.

"Is there an issue... son?" the guard asked. The word "son" was an insult, a reminder of the hierarchy.

Bennet swallowed hard. "I... she's my... friend."

"She didn't look like she needed your help," he said. He turned back to Chelsea. "Did you?"

Chelsea looked at Bennet, then at the guard.

"No," she said clearly. "I didn't."

He smirked. "Run along, children. Bell's ringing."

Bennet grabbed Brittany's hand and practically dragged her away, casting fearful glances over his shoulder.

Chelsea looked at the guard. "You enjoy scaring them."

"I enjoy order," he said, putting his sunglasses back up. "And I don't like pests."

He leaned in close to her ear. "Stop hiding, Chelsea. It doesn't suit you."

He tapped the clipboard against her shoulder and walked away, beginning his patrol.

Chelsea stood there, her skin burning where he had touched her.

Continue to next part

He drew her before he ever met her. She dreams of him every night... without knowing who he is. Nora is a brilliant editor in a prestigious journalism company - confident, successful... and completely unaware of her past. But night after night, she dreams of a mysterious warrior prince in a realm that feels far too real. When Edward, the enigmatic new CEO of her branch, walks into her life, her world starts to unravel. He's the son of the company's owner, and though they've never met, he's been drawing her face for years. As their connection deepens, strange events begin to blur the line between reality and fantasy. What neither of them knows is that their souls are bound - not just in this life, but in another. In a parallel world, Leela is a fearless warrior and spy, sworn to protect her people. Jing, the prince of a war-torn kingdom, trusts her with his life... but must never love her. Their bond is dangerous. Forbidden. And yet, undeniable. Two women. Two men. Two worlds on the brink of war... and love that defies fate. When destiny calls across dimensions, will they choose duty - or the one their soul remembers?

Action Modern Romance

7.7

Betrayed By Blood: The True Heir's Revenge

7.7

I thought being rescued from the kidnapper's basement after eight years was the end of my hell, but it was just the beginning. My father, the powerful Underboss Derek McCall, looked at my twelve-year-old face and saw only the monster who had held us captive. He was convinced I was the byproduct of his wife's assault, calling me "pollution" in his pristine bloodline. Life at the estate was a nightmare. I was forced to scrub floors while his stepdaughter, Kylie, lived like a princess. When I was starving, Derek caught me eating from the garbage and mocked me. When Kylie ordered a Doberman to maul me, tearing my leg apart on the manicured lawn, he just watched and told the guards to stitch me up without anesthesia. Yet, when he was dying from a gunshot wound and the hospital was out of blood, I was the one who stepped up. I gave two pints of my blood to save him, hoping he would finally see me. He didn't. The moment he was stable, his mother kicked me out of the house, handing me over to social services like unwanted trash. They didn't realize until the car drove away that the medical file on the table held a secret. My blood wasn't dirty. The DNA was a 99.9% match. I wasn't the kidnapper's child. I was his. When they finally came begging for forgiveness years later, I didn't offer a hug. I handed them an eviction notice.

Action Modern Mystery

9.1

Eighteen Broken Promises, One Way Out

9.1

He postponed putting my name on the deed 18 times. Each time, his mentee Ciera had an “emergency.” Each time, he ran to her. I watched him give her his prized Montblanc pen—the one he wouldn’t even let me borrow. I saw her post their late nights on Instagram. I ate anniversary dinners alone while he “mentored” her. Then he bought me a necklace—identical to the one she just flaunted online. That was when I stopped feeling anything. I didn’t cry. I didn’t fight. I simply packed two suitcases, resigned from our firm, and booked a one-way ticket to London. He thinks I’m coming back in a week. He has no idea I’m gone for good. Nineteen broken promises. One silent goodbye. And a new life waiting across the ocean.

Action Modern

8.3

His Dead Lover In A New Body

8.3

Imogen Montgomery was the perfect billionaire heiress, deeply in love and ready to marry her fiancé, Clark Ellis. That all ended the night her cousin Kathleen ripped the sapphire pendant from her neck and pushed her into a pool of toxic chemicals to die. Two years later, Imogen's eyes snapped open. But she didn't wake up in a hospital. She woke up tied to a stained mattress, trapped in the battered body of Briana, a teenage girl from the slums who had just been sold to a local trafficker. After violently fighting her way out of a cheap motel, she discovered the horrifying truth. Kathleen had taken over the Montgomery Group. She had locked Imogen's grieving parents away in a psychiatric facility as prisoners. And worst of all, Kathleen was now flaunting her stolen wealth online, preparing to marry Clark. A wave of pure, white-hot rage boiled in her blood. Kathleen had murdered her, stolen her family, and was playing the perfect grieving cousin. How was she supposed to fight back? She was just a runaway nobody now. If she tried to expose the truth, Kathleen's security would shoot her dead in the street. She needed a weapon. She needed a shield. She needed the one man Kathleen feared. Covered in mud and blood, Briana intercepted Clark's car in the freezing rain. She was going to infiltrate his home as his vulgar, unhinged fake mistress, and she would drag Kathleen straight down to hell.

Action Modern Romance

9.8

His Two Wives

9.8

When Dawn Collins agrees to marry a stranger, love is the last thing on her mind. All she wants is to protect her siblings and give them a better life. But fate leads her into the arms of Adam Manchester-a man whose heart belongs to a wife lying in a coma. As Dawn slowly melts the ice around Adam's heart, she begins to believe that maybe, just maybe, love can bloom from sacrifice. But on the night she's ready to claim her happiness, Adam's wife wakes up. Now, caught between guilt, love, and heartbreak, Dawn must decide whether to fight for the man she's grown to love... or walk away from the life she risked everything to build. Because some hearts never let go-and some love stories were never meant to have an easy ending.

Action Modern Romance

9.4

I Married Him for Points

9.4

"I'm terribly sorry my champagne found your face so magnetic, Captain." Theodore Ashford does not get angry. No - he smiles. Slow. Amused. Dangerous. "No apology necessary, Lady Cruelton. In fact, I insist you join us for dinner next week. I find you... fascinating." - Beatrice Whitmore died once already. She wakes up inside a 1940s romance novel - not as the heroine, but as the infamous purple-haired villainess destined for scandal, disgrace, and an early grave. Everyone hates Lady Cruelton. Which is perfect. Because survival comes with rules. A mysterious System rewards her with Hatred Points for humiliation, social ruin, and expertly executed cruelty. The more she's despised, the longer she lives. Reform is fatal. Kindness is suicide. Being terrible should be easy. Until Captain Theodore Ashford - decorated war hero, heir to an estate as vast as his ego - refuses to despise her. Immune to her schemes, unfazed by her insults, he watches her with knowing amusement... as if he sees through every calculated performance. Faking her death was supposed to secure her escape from the plot. Instead, his attention drags her deeper into it. Now Beatrice must outmaneuver gossip, rewrite a story determined to destroy her, and earn enough Hatred Points to survive - without falling for the only man who doesn't hate her. Because in a world where love is the true death sentence for a villainess... Cruelty might be her only way out

Action Adventure LitRPG Romance

Reborn To Ruin: The Jilted Heiress's Revenge

Chapter 9

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