Reborn Heiress: Dragging Traitors To Hell

The last thing Kaycee Serrano knew was the scream trapped inside every nerve ending. The world was a symphony of agony, played on the strings of her own body.

It wasn't a dull ache or a throbbing pulse. It was the searing, absolute fire at her fingertips, a phantom sensation where her nails had been ruthlessly compromised, and the cold, hollow bite of a needle pressing against her throat.

A flickering basement bulb was her only spotlight, casting long, dancing shadows on the damp concrete walls. Aldo's voice, smooth and cultured, slithered through the foul air. "Sign it, Kaycee. Just sign the transfer, and maybe I'll let you keep what's left."

She tried to spit at him, but only a bloody gurgle escaped her lips. Her best friend, Corrine, stepped into the light, wearing Kaycee's Chanel suit like a second skin. "Oh, honey, don't struggle. It ruins the aesthetic." Corrine held up her hand, showing off the engagement ring that was supposed to be Kaycee's.

In the corner, an old television crackled to life, the volume cranked to an unbearable level. A news anchor's serious face filled the screen.

"Breaking news... Hunter Gallagher, CEO of Gallagher-Sterling, confirmed dead in a vehicle explosion on Route 9..."

Hunter.

The name pierced through her pain. The image of a burning black sedan filled the screen, a pyre for the only man who had ever truly tried to protect her. The man she had treated like dirt.

"You see, he was coming to save you," Corrine whispered in her ear, her breath hot and smelling of champagne. "We sent him a little tip about a fake kidnapping. So heroic. And so, so stupid."

A strangled sob tore from Kaycee's throat. He had died because of her. Because she had been a blind, spoiled princess.

"Finish it," Aldo said, impatient.

Corrine produced a syringe filled with a clear, shimmering liquid. A chemical winter. A final, irreversible silence.

Kaycee thrashed against the ropes binding her to the chair, a final, desperate surge of adrenaline. The needle plunged into her neck.

A burning cold shot through her veins, like liquid nitrogen seizing her blood. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic, uneven rhythm-Thump. Thump. Thump-before it began to stall.

Her vision blurred. Aldo and Corrine's faces twisted into grotesque masks. As the darkness closed in, a single, silent vow formed in the ruins of her soul: If there is another life... I will drag you to hell with me.

Then, nothing.

...

Kaycee Serrano gasped, her lungs fighting against a weight that wasn't there. Her eyes snapped open, but the darkness behind her eyelids didn't vanish immediately. It lingered, painted with the afterimages of a flickering basement bulb and the rusty metallic taste of betrayal.

She tried to lift her hand to her throat, expecting to feel the cold, hollow bite of a needle. Instead, her fingers brushed against soft, high-thread-count Egyptian cotton.

She froze.

Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird, the