Rebirth: Reclaiming My Stolen Heiress Life

Kan

est," a trembling, panicked voice echoed through the sterile, freezing operating room. The rhythmic, ag

, transparent tubes snaking out of my veins were draining my life away, drop

ce completely devoid of any paternal warmth, looking at me simply as slaughtered livestock. "This tiny amount of

face without a single ounce of pity. His eyes, which used to look at me with fake adoration, now only held cold impatience. "I have wronged Keshia for far too long,"

e door open, and my stepsister, Keshia, was wheeled in. She was laughing, a weak, sickly sound, but heavily laced

n to her made me want to vomit. He leaned down, kissing her forehead softly. "Our eight year old angel will

five years, yet their bastard daughter was already eight. They had been sleeping toget

, soul crushing revel

r. When that semi truck I arranged failed to kill Alma's mother on the highway, you finished her off perfectly right here,

as murdered! Murdered by my own father, on this very table, by this exact same doctor! Did my brilliant, loving mother lie here,

ire. If there was a next life, I swore to the deepest pits of hell that I would crawl back as a vengeful de

A

tallic hell of the operating room. I was not dying. I was tangled in soft, incredibly expensive silk sheets. The blindin

a wild, passionate night sent a flush of heat to my cheeks. I could still faintly feel the phantom weight of a heavy, masculine body pressing me deep i

rning light, showcasing the terrifying, explosive physical power of a top tier professional athlete. I coul

bsolute beginning of my five year long nightmare. Keshia, smiling that sweet, venomous smile, had handed me a glass of spiked champagne. Dizzy, disoriented, an

re me. He played the forgiving martyr, forcing me into a miserable, submissive marri

curse. I was reborn. Reborn five years ago,

g light catching the sweat glistening on his collarbone, and I instantly recognized that sha

en H

, untouchable influence. He was a man standing at the very apex of the global pyramid, someone my arrogant father, Arthur, and my h

ath. I had spent years of my life consumed by hatred, desperately trying to find ways to avenge my mother by destroying him. It was not until the moment before my dea

I had actually slept with Hayden Harper

wirling in my chest, preparing to speak, to negotiate, to figure out my very first step in this new life

and, a hand that wielded a hockey stick with deadly precision, held a small, white pil

m and made me tremble involuntarily. His eyes darkened with a raw, possessive heat that made th

massive palm, my heart skipping a