Reborn To Ruin My Billionaire Ex-Husband

e sedatives, a familiar enemy, bled the world into a bleached-out haze. White walls, white sheets, white light – a sterile prison.

fight, her limbs heavy, her mind a sluggish current of despair. Months of this, the endless

the silence, a jarring intrusion. The scent of Chanel No. 5, sharp

erfectly coiffed. Her eyes, the color of glacial ice, swept over Seraphina on the bed, a sl

ice a low, polished murmur, devoid of warmth

wer, scurried out, leaving Seraphi

racelet catching the sterile light – a gift from Slade. Of course. Seraphina's gaze drifted past her, tow

s in Seraphina's neck tighten, a prelude to pain. "Oh, you poor

e unfolded it with a crisp, almost celebratory rustle. The headline screamed in bo

e her throat. She tried to lift a hand, to snatch the paper, to deny the impossi

cruel curve of her lips.

parts about Julian Beaumont suffering a complete mental break

e, speaking of legacy, of the Beaumont name. The weight of his signet ring on her finger as a little gir

hey'd argued. She had screamed at him, defended Slade, chosen her husband over

how he did it. Slade couldn't have pulled off the short sell of a lifetime without the little tidbi

gasp. It couldn't be true. The man she loved, the man

ded belly, a gesture of sickening triumph. "And there's more go

the empty finality of her own complication months ago. The doctor had said the strain o

condition requires a very specific blood type. Your blood type. Rh-neg

e "illness." The endless blood draws. The constant fatigue. It was

ripple after that convenient street race went wrong. Leo, the wild one, rotting in a federal prison for a fraud scheme he

hites of Seraphina's eyes, a

raw, barely a whisper. "He promised..

rile walls, mocking Seraphina's last shred of hope. "You naive little fool. Do you really t

mous caress. "And your mother, Evelyn Reed... her car 'accident' years

orn of pure, unadulterated agony and rage, but the soundproo

, she lunged, her fingers clawing for Lila's throat, a desperate

r back onto the pillows with contemp

formed in the encroaching darkness, a promise

wed, a fading rhythm. The edges of the white room began