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

pletely devoid of any paternal warmth, looking at me not as a daughter, but as a slaughtered livestock. "This tiny amo

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,"

he door open, and my stepsister, Keshia, was wheeled in. She was laughing-a weak, sickly sound, but heavily lace

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

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

s 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 wasn't dying. I was tangled in soft, incredibly expensive silk sheets. The blindin

my thighs and across my lower back. I turned my head stiffly, the silk

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

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

curse. I was reborn. Reborn five years ago,

slightly, and I instantly recognized that sharp, aristocratic jawline

en H

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

I had actually slept with Hayden Harper

ed my mouth, complicated emotions swirling in my chest, preparing to

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

netic rumble that vibrated through the quiet ro

massive palm, my heart skipping a