Reborn To Crush My Ruthless Husband
Frances survived a horrific car crash, only to return to a suffocating life. Her wealthy husband, Baron, and his domineering mother were now relentlessly pressuring her to adopt a "poor, distant relative" named Jagger as the heir to their billionaire empire.
But on her way to sign the adoption papers, a violent vision flashed in her mind. The crash wasn't an accident. She saw her car in flames, while Baron watched with cold, calculating eyes. Beside him stood an older Jagger, who calmly muttered the chilling truth.
"The problem is solved."
A private investigator soon confirmed her worst nightmares. Jagger wasn't a charity case; he was Baron's illegitimate son. The family had been illegally funneling offshore money to fund his elite lifestyle. Worse, Baron's ultimate plan was to label Frances mentally unstable, lock her away in a Swiss sanatorium for life, and bring in Jagger's biological mother to take her place.
For years, Frances had played the perfect, obedient wife in their corporate marriage contract. How could they be so ruthlessly evil, plotting her agonizing death just to legitimize their dirty bloodline and steal her trust fund?
But she was no longer the fragile puppet they thought she was. At the high-stakes board meeting, with all eyes expecting her to submit, she put the expensive pen down.
"I refuse."
Instead of adopting their bastard son, she slammed down an SEC whistleblower threat, forced a new will, and introduced her own handpicked heir. The war had just begun.
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Chapter 5
Estela's private study was a sanctuary of dark wood and heavy velvet. The fire in the hearth crackled, casting flickering shadows across the walls. But the warmth did nothing to thaw the icy tension in the room.
Baron stood before his mother's massive oak desk, his chest heaving. He threw a copy of Forbes onto the polished surface. The headline read: Burnett Heiress MIA: Trouble in Paradise?
"The media is having a field day!" Baron shouted, his voice echoing off the bookshelves. "Frances refusing to attend the charity gala? Everyone is speculating about our marriage!"
Estela sat behind the desk, calmly sipping her tea. She didn't even glance at the magazine. "I assumed you had handled her," she said, her tone dripping with disappointment.
Baron began to pace, his shoes wearing a path into the expensive rug. "She's changed! She's like a block of ice. I can't read her. I can't predict her. She just... stares."
He stopped, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. He looked at his mother, his eyes burning with a desperate, selfish need. "Bring Gia back. Now. Today."
It wasn't the first time he had made the demand, but this time, there was a violent edge to his voice.
"Jagger needs his mother," Baron argued, his tone shifting to a whine. "With Gia here, she can comfort Jagger. And she can help me 'manage' Frances."
Estela slammed her teacup down. The delicate porcelain clattered against the saucer. "I said no! The timing is wrong."
She stood up, her small frame seeming to grow larger in the firelight. "Gia Hobbs's background is a minefield. Her father is a drunk. Her mother is a gambler. And Gia herself? She left a trail of scandals in the art world just to climb the social ladder."
She pointed a bony finger at Baron. "The moment she steps foot in this estate, the press will dig up every piece of trash connected to her. And when they do, Jagger's true parentage will be exposed!"
Baron scoffed, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. "So what? Are you going to just stand by and watch Frances put that street rat Arvel on the throne?"
He leaned over the desk, getting in his mother's face. "We have to strike first! Bring Gia home. Let Jagger feel the warmth of a real family. That is our greatest weapon! Blood. A mother. That's what will win this."
Estela's face hardened. "While the legal documents are not finalized, any accident could ruin everything! Frances is a snake in the grass. She is waiting for us to slip up."
"Then we make her slip up!" Baron roared. "We can't just sit here defending! She is attacking us!"
Across the hall, hidden in the shadows of her own sitting room, Frances sat perfectly still. A tiny, flesh-colored earpiece was lodged in her left ear. A wire ran down to a receiver tucked into her waistband.
Phoebe had planted the bug in Estela's study . It was a risky move, but it was paying off in spades.
Frances listened to every word. Gia Hobbs. The name was a key turning in a lock. The background, the scandals-it was all falling into place.
In the study, the argument reached a boiling point.
"Baron," Estela warned, her voice like gravel. "I will not allow you to destroy generations of Burnett legacy over a woman."
Baron stared at his mother, his eyes dark and dangerous. He knew he had to play his trump card. He had to force her hand.
He went quiet. The silence stretched, thick and heavy. Then, he spoke, each word slow and deliberate.
"If you don't bring Gia back," Baron said, his voice barely a whisper, "I will go to the press myself and 'clarify' Jagger's parentage. Your choice, Mother."
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9.3
Jessie's biological parents brought her back from a Rust Belt wasteland just to force her into marrying a paralyzed heir to save their bankrupt empire.
Three years later, when the global doomsday apocalypse hit, her own family shoved her into a swarm of infected corpses.
As she was being torn apart by mutated hounds, she was stunned by what she saw.
Her fake sister, Harley, was clutching the antique silver necklace she had stolen from Jessie—an heirloom that secretly contained a magical spatial dimension.
When the infected swarmed them, her biological mother didn't even look back.
"Jessie is just white trash, she is perfectly suited to buy us time to run!"
Harley used Jessie's stolen necklace to live in absolute safety and luxury, while Jessie's windpipe was ripped out in the rotting wasteland.
Until she died, Jessie didn't understand. She was their true flesh and blood.
Why did her parents hate her so much? Why was she sacrificed so easily while the fake daughter got everything?
Opening her eyes again, the blinding glare of a crystal chandelier stabbed into her retinas.
She was back in the Manhattan penthouse on the exact day they sold her off.
This time, Jessie calmly signed the marriage contract, demanded a one hundred million dollar buyout, and walked out to prepare for the apocalypse.
9.7
For three years, I endured being treated like a walking ATM and a maid by my husband's family, biting my tongue to keep the peace.
Then, my husband's buddy suddenly dropped off a nine-year-old boy at my front door.
The crumpled note from my husband casually explained it was his illegitimate son, blaming me for being barren and demanding I raise the kid as our own.
My mother-in-law was absolutely thrilled, parading the boy around as the true heir at the dinner table.
"Some trees just don't bear fruit, no matter how much water you give them," she sneered.
My brother-in-law cheered, and my drunk father-in-law demanded I cook a feast to celebrate.
They actually expected me to continue paying the mortgage, buying the groceries, and cleaning up their endless messes, all while raising the living proof of my husband's betrayal.
I looked at the parasites who had drained me dry for years, acting like they were doing me a favor by letting me stay in a house that my money paid for.
I didn't scream, and I didn't cry.
I simply called my lawyer to file for an immediate divorce, froze every single bank account and credit card they relied on, and drove off to my grandmother's secluded cabin in the woods.
Let them see how long they survive without my money.
8.9
I sold three years of my life to a billionaire to save my mother. I was his pretend fiancée, a stand-in for his ex, counting down the days until the contract ended and we could finally be free.
But just as we were about to escape, his real girlfriend returned and publicly accused me of faking a pregnancy to trap him.
My fiancé, Drake, didn't hesitate. He called me a disgusting gold-digger and threatened to pull my mother's medical funding to force me into an abortion.
The shock of his cruelty sent my mother into cardiac arrest. She died right there in the hospital.
They demanded I abort a child that could never exist, a lie built to destroy me.
But they didn't know my secret. After my mother' s death, I finally told him the truth that shattered his world: I was born without a uterus. And with her last letter in my hand, I walked away from him forever.
8.3
Hovering as a translucent soul in the freezing cemetery, I watched Corbin Mendez—the ruthless billionaire I had spent my entire life despising—violently smash open my tomb.
I thought he had come to desecrate my corpse. Instead, he collapsed to his knees, reverently kissed my dead lips, and swallowed a lethal bottle of pills without a drop of water.
In my past life, I was betrayed by my ex-fiancé, framed by my vicious step-family, and trapped in a suffocating marriage with Corbin. I thought he was a paranoid, abusive monster who only wanted to control me. I fought his madness every single day until I died sick, exhausted, and utterly defeated.
But watching him climb into my casket, wrapping his massive arms around my cold body to die beside me, my non-existent heart shattered.
Why hadn't I seen the truth? He wasn't a monster; he was a deeply traumatized man suffering from severe PTSD, and his obsessive love for me was his only tether to sanity.
The regret and agony tore my soul to pieces.
"My love, I'm too late."
Those were his last words before his heart stopped.
When I opened my eyes again, I wasn't floating in a dark tomb. I was lying in Corbin's bed, exactly two years in the past.
This time, I wouldn't run away. I would heal the broken beast who died for me, and I would personally put a bullet in everyone who ruined us.
7.2
Stepping out of the women's correctional center, Karli took her first breath of freedom in three years.
But the luxury SUV waiting for her didn't bring her home. Instead, her adoptive parents tossed a prenuptial agreement onto her lap.
They demanded she marry a violently unhinged, disfigured man so their company could secure a massive commercial deal.
When she refused, her adoptive mother slapped her hard across the face.
The blow brought back the suffocating nightmare from three years ago—how they had drugged her, framed her for a crime she didn't commit, and sent her to prison just so her stepsister could steal her fiancé.
Now, to break her again, her adoptive father ordered his bodyguards to drag her into the estate's freezing, pitch-black basement.
"You can rot in the dark without food or water until you sign that paper!"
Sitting on the damp cement, bleeding and shivering, a white-hot fury burned away Karli's panic.
They had stolen her youth, her reputation, and her grandfather's inheritance. She would rather die than be their sacrificial lamb again.
She smashed the basement window with a hammer, dragged her bleeding body through the shattered glass, and sprinted blindly into the stormy night.
Under the flickering neon sign of a convenience store, she grabbed the sleeve of a terrifyingly cold stranger.
"Are you single? Marry me right now."
She just needed a legal marriage to escape her family, entirely unaware she had just proposed to the most ruthless billionaire in Chicago.
7.6
🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞
Aria Bennett is the perfect daughter, a decoration in her father's massive business empire. But for one night, she decides to break every rule. At a secret underground club, she meets Adrian, a man who knows exactly how to please her and awaken desires she never knew she had. They promise each other nothing but one night of pleasure and desire.
But when Aria wakes up to find him gone, leaving only a cold note behind, she thinks the fantasy is over. That is, until she walks downstairs the next morning to see the same man standing in her driveway.
Now, the man who knows her darkest secrets is her father's new driver. Forced to face him every day while pretending they are strangers, Aria is caught in a suffocating game of cat and mouse.
Adrian on the other hand is dangerous, cold, and hiding a secret that could destroy her father's empire.
And the closer she gets to him, the more she risks losing everything, including herself.