Reborn At The Altar: Reject My Cruel Groom, Marry A Mysterious Tycoon
Lainey spent her last life destroying herself for Larry, only to become the woman he discarded most cruelly. He never loved her, never wanted her, and made no secret that his first love still owned his heart.
On their wedding day, he abandoned Lainey at the altar for that woman, then later used Lainey as nothing more than a stepping stone for his company's rise. In the end, he even had her kidney ripped from her.
Reborn at the very moment everything began, Lainey called off the wedding without hesitation. But after losing her, Larry begged desperately.
Lainey shot him a cold look, then turned and walked straight into the arms of a powerful, aloof man, who stared down at Larry with pure contempt. "She's my wife now."
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Chapter 4
Rita's cheek was still swollen from Lainey's slap. There was no way she'd just let her leave after that.
Lainey tipped her head slightly, her gaze settling on Rita with a calm, almost amused look. "Rita, are you sure you want to go down this road?"
Rita mistook that composure for weakness. Lifting her chin, she drew herself up arrogantly. "Of course! Who knows what you've hidden away? Open your suitcase. I'm going through it myself."
Larry stayed completely uninvolved. He remained beside Charlee, holding her close as if nothing else in the room mattered, whispering reassurance to her.
At that sight, whatever lingering ache remained in Lainey's chest vanished, replaced by nothing but cold hatred.
Her expression turned indifferent. Without a word, she crouched and pulled open the zipper of her suitcase. "Go ahead. Look carefully. See if there's anything in there that belongs to your family."
Rita wasted no time. She immediately began rummaging through the contents, turning everything upside down without the slightest regard. Clothes were tossed aside carelessly, the suitcase quickly becoming a chaotic mess. As if that wasn't enough, she deliberately flung a few of Lainey's undergarments onto the floor, her actions dripping with insult.
Lainey stood there, watching silently. Then she lowered her eyes and sent a quick message to her assistant, Rose Ford.
"Come to the Millers' with a few bodyguards. Bring some empty suitcases."
The reply came almost instantly.
"Are you finally done tolerating them? Leave it to me. I'll be there in ten minutes."
A faint, almost ironic smile curved Lainey's lips.
Rose had told her more than once that the Miller family wasn't worth her patience, especially Larry. Back then, she hadn't listened. She had given everything she had, thinking effort would be enough.
Now she looked up again. Rita was still searching with a smug expression, while Charlee stood nearby watching like it was entertainment.
Lainey spoke again, her voice steady. "So? Finished yet? Did you find anything that belongs to you?"
Rita gave the suitcase a disdainful kick, her lips curling. "There's nothing useful in here. Just trash."
Her eyes were full of scorn as she added, "Now pick it all up and clean this mess before you leave."
But instead of complying, Lainey walked over to a nearby shelf and picked up a porcelain vase, turning it slowly in her hand.
She said quietly, "Not everything here belongs to you." She held it up slightly. "I bought this vase two months ago. Three million. Since I paid for it, I'm taking it away."
Her hand then pointed toward the wall. "That painting and the clock over there... I purchased both three months ago. Ten million altogether. They're coming with me too."
Rita's expression twisted in disbelief. "Are you serious? You gave those to us! You can't just take them back now!"
Larry's brows pulled together as well. "My mother is attached to that painting. You're not taking it."
Charlee, still playing the role of the fragile victim, added softly with a wounded tone, "I always thought you were someone generous. Why are you suddenly acting so petty?"
With the three of them speaking one after another, the situation was quickly twisted—making it seem like Lainey was the unreasonable one causing all the chaos.
Just then, Rose showed up, accompanied by a group of bodyguards. Lainey immediately gestured around the living room while issuing instructions one after another. "The Hermès fruit bowl—mine. Pack it. The Tiffany tea set—mine. Take it. The Chanel curtains—also mine. Take them down."
Her gaze shifted to the living room sofa. "And this sofa cost me two million. That goes as well."
Rose looked almost energized, as if she had been waiting for this moment. With efficient coordination, she and the bodyguards began clearing out everything Lainey had originally financed, one item after another.
Larry's expression turned increasingly dark. "So this is your revenge? You're really tearing this entire house apart just to get back at me?"
Lainey didn't respond immediately. Instead, she calmly bent down and started collecting the rest of her belongings from the floor. Only after finishing did she speak. "I wasn't planning to argue over a few things I once bought." She paused briefly. "But your mother insisted on making a scene out of it. So now she gets to see what it looks like when I stop holding back."
She zipped up her suitcase and stood upright again, her gaze landing on Rita with a faint, almost unsettling smile. "Well, Rita, satisfied now?"
The words hit like a final blow. Rita's eyes rolled back, and she collapsed on the spot.
The moment Lainey turned to leave, panic erupted behind her.
"Mom!" Larry shouted.
"Mrs. Miller!" Charlee cried out as well.
Seeing Rita faint, Charlee immediately seized the opportunity, her voice dripping with concern and accusation. "Larry, this is too much. Lainey actually took everything and stressed Mrs. Miller into collapsing. How can she be so disrespectful to you and your family?"
Larry laid Rita down on a chair, his face tight with anger as he straightened up again. He turned toward Lainey with a cold, cutting stare. "Go ahead then," he yelled. "Walk out now if you want. But when Nova Tech's launch succeeds in a few days, don't expect to come back. Even if you crawl on your knees, I won't let you near this family again."
At the mention of Nova Tech, something shifted in Lainey's expression. That company's AI division was the backbone of the Miller Group's upcoming success. In her past life, she had attended that very launch—not as a guest, but as Larry's hidden helper behind the scenes.
When Bryan had attempted to expose Nova Tech's fake technology, she had interfered and sabotaged Wilson Group instead, forcing him to step back. She had even handed over her own company's research just to secure Larry's success.
That single event had made Nova Tech explode in value, earning Larry unimaginable profits.
This time, things would be different. She would not help him.
And she would make sure Bryan didn't lose either.
A confident curve appeared on her lips. "Alright. Then we'll see how that turns out," she said softly.
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7.4
Four years ago, to protect the man I loved from losing his billionaire empire, I drugged his drink, told him I only used him for his money, and vanished.
Now, at a high-society gala, Callum Wyatt is back. He isn't just a CEO anymore; he's a ruthless predator, and the second his eyes lock onto me, I know I am his prey.
When my wealthy half-sister publicly humiliated me, calling me the cheap bastard child of a homewrecker, Callum stepped out of the shadows. He nearly snapped her wrist in half and declared to New York's elite that anyone who touched me would be dismantled.
In the back of his Maybach, he pinned my arms above my head, his eyes burning with psychotic obsession.
"If you run again, Aubrey, I will burn your entire world to the ground just to keep you."
My heart bled. I had spent four grueling years tearing myself apart to keep him out of my messy, blood-soaked revenge against the family that watched my mother die.
But his terrifying protection only made my biological father's family target me harder, using their massive capital to buy out my movie set and crush my acting career.
They thought I would cower.
But as I walked onto the soundstage, facing the heiress trying to steal my role, I took off my sunglasses. I wasn't running anymore; it was time to make them pay.
7.7
I worked three double shifts at the garage just to buy a velvet-boxed cake for my wealthy girlfriend, Arleen.
But when I pushed open the VIP room door, I saw her lover kissing her bare leg.
She didn't push him away. Instead, she laughed and swirled her martini.
"I only forgot Finn because I knew he would stay. He is a poor boy from Queens who follows me around like a loyal dog."
Later that night, her lover intentionally crashed a Porsche to scare me, sending a piece of jagged metal into my skull.
Lying in a growing pool of my own blood, I watched Arleen crawl out of the wreckage.
She didn't even look at me. She threw herself at her uninjured lover, screaming for a medic.
"He just got scraped by a piece of plastic. He is faking it. Deal with Jaquez first!"
When I woke up, I wasn't free. Arleen had locked me in a private hospital wing with 24-hour security, planning to isolate me and keep me as her broken, captive toy forever.
My blind, pathetic devotion finally froze into absolute disgust.
I looked at the heart monitor next to my bed and grabbed an IV needle.
I severed the sensor wire to trigger a flatline, slipped out the fire stairs while the nurses panicked, and burned my identity to ashes.
This time, I was going to disappear to London, build my own empire, and watch hers burn.
9.5
Elsie was the Sutton family's perfect puppet, a sickly heiress locked away in a pristine manor and treated like fragile porcelain. Her only purpose was to be a pawn in her mother's corporate games.
Without warning, her mother ordered her to marry Duke Blake, a ruthless, cold-blooded billionaire known for destroying his rivals. Worse, her mother immediately handed over total control of Elsie's life to him, declaring she couldn't even step outside the gates without his explicit permission.
Desperate, Elsie met him and asked if she would be expected to perform wifely duties, praying for a marriage in name only.
"I have a very high sex drive."
He stated it bluntly, shattering her illusions. Yet, when he drove her into the city days later, a sudden swerve sent her tumbling directly into his lap. Instead of the desire he claimed to possess, his body went completely rigid. He violently shoved her away, slamming her hard against the passenger seat. His face was pale, his knuckles white, and he stared straight ahead with a look of absolute, terrifying revulsion.
Humiliation and sharp pain coiled in her chest. She couldn't understand. Why did he demand absolute control over her and boast about his desires, only to treat her accidental touch like a repulsive disease? Why did this all-powerful man secretly smell of hospital antiseptics? What exactly was the Sutton family forcing her to marry?
But she was no longer willing to be a lamb led to the slaughter. Thinking of the provocative black lace hidden behind her wardrobe's false wall, Elsie smiled coldly. She was going to find the fatal flaw in this ruthless billionaire's code, and use it to completely shatter her cage.
9.7
I secured the lifeline investment for my fiancé's company and went to his office to surprise him.
Instead, I caught Preston sleeping with his top actress—the woman he publicly claimed as his stepsister.
Through the cracked door, I heard him call me his "scarred, ugly bitch shield" to hide their sickening affair.
I didn't cry. I hacked the live broadcast of the Star Awards and played their sex tape to two thousand people.
But that night, drunk and reeling from the agonizing nerve pain in my facial scar, I stumbled into the wrong hotel penthouse.
I was pinned down by a drugged billionaire, Josephus Hodges.
The next morning, he left me a million-dollar check and a Plan B pill.
When he later tracked me down to offer a cold, calculated fake marriage just to absorb Preston's ruined empire, I threw the contract at his chest and told him to go to hell.
But when I got home and looked in the mirror, the chronic, burning torture in my scar was completely gone.
His touch during that terrifying night had somehow cured the agony that had ruined my life.
I had just declared war on the only man on earth who could heal me.
Just then, my ruined ex-fiancé called, begging me to save him with a PR press conference.
"I'll do it, but I control the venue."
I booked it at Josephus's heavily guarded hotel. I was going to slaughter my ex on live television, and force the apex predator to look at me again.
9.7
For three years, I was the dutiful wife of billionaire Ervin Valdez.
On our third wedding anniversary, he came home smelling of his mistress's perfume, pinned me down, and brutally mocked me.
His mistress, Sylvia, had even sent me a fake ultrasound report to force me out of the picture.
In Ervin's eyes, I was just a vicious, calculating liar who used a pregnancy to trap him into marriage.
He didn't care that I had actually lost that baby, nor did he know the trauma of my gambling father selling me to a dark club where I was assaulted by a stranger.
When I finally handed him the signed divorce papers, giving up all assets, and left the penthouse with nothing but an old suitcase, he just sneered.
"She is playing a game of hard to get. She won't last three days before she comes crying back."
He froze all my bank accounts, let his mistress humiliate me in public, and waited coldly for me to starve and beg.
He thought my entire existence relied on his wealth, completely confident that I would inevitably surrender to his control.
But he was wrong.
I calmly opened my old laptop, bypassed the complex encryptions, and looked at the dozens of unread emails from top-tier global brands begging for my return.
I resurrected my hidden identity as the legendary jewelry designer "R," and walked straight into the top design firm in Manhattan.
"It is time to find myself again."
8.2
My wedding to Ethan Reed was just weeks away.
After seven years, I was certain of our perfect future.
Then, Ethan claimed "selective amnesia" from a head injury, forgetting only me.
I tried to make him remember, until I overheard his video call.
"Total genius move," he boasted to friends.
His amnesia was a fake "hall pass" to pursue influencer Chloe Vance before our wedding.
Heartbroken, I feigned belief.
I endured his open flirting with Chloe and their taunting selfies.
He mocked my distress, prioritizing Chloe's fake emergency.
After an accident he caused, he abandoned me, injured, choosing to send Chloe to the hospital first.
He even tried to cut me off financially.
How could my fiancé be this cruel, calculating monster?
His betrayal poisoned every memory.
I felt like a fool for trusting such boundless cruelty.
His audacity left me reeling.
But I wouldn’t be his victim.
Instead of breaking, a cold plan formed.
I would shed my identity, become Olivia Carter.
I would disappear, leaving him, my past, and his engagement ring behind forever, claiming my freedom.