Reborn Heiress: Reclaiming My Monster Billionaire

The pain didn't roll in. It detonated.

A solid, white-hot wall of agony slammed into Ginny all at once, ripping a wet, shredded gasp from the back of her throat. Her spine arched against the concrete pillar, every nerve screaming before her brain could even name the source.

She yanked at the restraints. Rusted iron chains, thick as her thumbs, bit deep into the delicate skin of her wrists. The metal ground wetly against bone. Blood, warm and slick, pulsed down her forearms.

She was pinned upright in the gutted heart of an abandoned industrial warehouse. Shattered skylights yawned overhead. The air hung thick and stale, layered with the stench of cold motor oil, damp rot, and the copper tang of her own blood pooling at her feet.

Ginny forced her eyes open. A thick, warm drip crawled from her hairline, past her brow, stinging her lashes and smearing her vision into a crimson blur.

Through that red fog, a silhouette emerged.

The sharp, deliberate click of designer stilettos struck the concrete like hammer taps. Coretta glided into the pale shaft of moonlight bleeding through the broken roof. She wore a pristine cream haute couture trench coat, the fabric liquid and flawless. Not a single mote of dust dared cling to it. Her golden hair was swept into an immaculate chignon. Her mouth curved into a soft, angelic smile—the exact same one she used while posing for photographs at charity galas.

Coretta stopped directly in front of her. That melodic, practiced laugh spilled from her glossed lips.

Then, without a flicker of hesitation, she lifted one foot and drove the needle-sharp heel of her stiletto straight down onto Ginny's right hand.

Bones crunched. The sound was sickeningly wet and loud in the cavernous emptiness.

Ginny's jaw locked. Her teeth clamped together with such brutal force that blood flooded her gums. She refused to scream. Not a single sound. Her vision swam, black spots dancing, but she held Coretta's gaze. She stared up at the woman she had called her sister for ten years. The mask of the devoted, perfect sibling had dissolved entirely, revealing the twisted, ugly sneer beneath.

Coretta crouched. The pristine hem of her coat skimmed the filth-slick floor. She pulled a hunting knife from her pocket. The blade gleamed dull and cold. She pressed the flat of the steel against Ginny's cheek, letting the chill seep into her skin.

"Still playing the tough girl, Ginny?" Coretta whispered, her voice a silken hiss.

Ginny jerked her head away and thrashed against the pillar. The chains shrieked, clattering off the corrugated metal walls. The iron teeth sank deeper, carving raw furrows into her wrists. Blood slid hot and fast down her arms. She couldn't break free.

Heavy footsteps echoed from the blackness behind Coretta.

A man stepped into the murky light. He wore a perfectly tailored charcoal suit that hugged his broad shoulders. A silver lighter glinted in his hand as he raised it to his mouth and lit