My Rebirth: A Billionaire's Sweet Vow

In my last life, my fiancé and stepsister stole my company and left me for dead.

Now, reborn, I have to watch it all happen again. At a lavish ball, Christian publicly humiliates me, flaunting his affair with my stepsister, Genevieve.

They think I'm the same weak woman who will crumble. Genevieve even steals the one proposal that could save my mother's legacy, texting me that I'll end up with nothing.

At a family dinner, Christian tries to force my hand, falsely announcing we're already married to secure his position.

He expects me to play along in front of the one man who could change everything: the legendary tech titan, Immanuel Romero.

But I refuse. When Christian grabs me in a rage, a powerful hand stops him.

Immanuel Romero steps between us, his voice like ice. "Never touch her again."

Then, he looks at the stunned room and makes an announcement that shatters their entire plan.

"Eliana is my fiancée."

Chapter 1

Christian' s voice cut through the opulent ballroom like a rusty knife. It wasn't the shock that made me flinch; it was the familiarity of the scene. The whispered taunts, the sneering faces of his friends, the way his gaze, once filled with what I thought was love, now held only a cold disdain. It was all happening again, just as it had before.

This time, though, I knew the script.

"Honestly, Eliana," he scoffed, his words carrying just loud enough for the small circle around us to hear, "must you always make things so difficult?"

A ripple of amusement spread through the onlookers. They were the usual crowd, the hangers-on, the social climbers who fed off drama. They saw a woman being publicly chastised by her fiancé. They didn' t see the years of carefully constructed lies beneath the surface.

I felt a familiar tightening in my chest, a phantom echo of the pain that had once brought me to my knees. My breath caught, but I didn't gasp. Instead, I let it out slowly, a silent exhale that steadied my trembling hands.

"Difficult?" I managed, my voice surprisingly even. "I believe I was simply trying to clarify something, Christian."

A snort from one of his cronies, a man named Mark, cut me off. "Clarify what, Eliana? That our Christian is too good for you?"

Laughter erupted, harsh and unfeeling. Another woman, with too much makeup and a condescending smirk, chimed in. "He's just being kind, darling. He always was too gentle for his own good."

Christian' s jaw visibly tightened. His face flushed a deep red, not from shame for me, but from the humiliation he felt by association. He hated being seen as anything less than perfect, especially in front of his sycophants.

His eyes, usually a warm hazel, hardened into chips of ice. "Kind?" he repeated, his voice dangerously low. "You want to talk about kindness, Eliana? You should learn what that word means."

He stepped closer, invading my personal space. His scent, a