Reborn Heiress: Revenge On My Ruthless Ex

The sensation was not of drifting away, but of being corroded from the inside out. It felt as though someone had replaced Cassandra Williams' blood with battery acid. The fire traveled through her veins, scorching the delicate lining of her vessels, making every heartbeat a fresh detonation of agony.

Her vision was a smear of gray and brown. The rusty beams of the abandoned warehouse ceiling wavered above her like the ribs of a rotting leviathan. Dust motes danced in the single shaft of light, indifferent to the dying woman in the wheelchair.

Footsteps approached. They were the confident, rhythmic clicks of expensive Italian leather on concrete.

Dillon Newman stepped into her fading field of view. He smoothed the lapels of his custom navy suit, a look of practiced, theatrical regret plastered onto his handsome face. He looked like a man about to deliver a eulogy for a pet he didn't particularly like.

"It really is a shame, Cassie," Dillon said, his voice smooth. "You were always such a delicate thing."

A giggle bubbled up from behind him. Bianca Benson, her stepsister, slid her arm through Dillon's. She was wearing Cassandra's family ring-the vintage emerald cut that had belonged to her grandmother. It caught the light, mocking Cassandra with its sparkle.

"Don't be too sad, baby," Bianca purred, leaning her head on Dillon's shoulder. She looked down at Cassandra, her eyes gleaming with malice. "She wouldn't want you to be sad. She'd want us to enjoy the trust fund, wouldn't she?"

Cassandra tried to speak, to scream, but her throat was paralyzed. The neurotoxin had already shut down her vocal cords. She could only watch.

Bianca leaned closer, her perfume-a cloying vanilla scent that Cassandra had always hated-filling the air. "You know, the car accident wasn't just bad luck," she whispered, the words like a secret shared between sisters. "And daddy's 'financial trouble'? We moved the money months ago. Oh, and Kade? We made sure he wouldn't reach you. A coordinated series of false distress signals across the city has his private security chasing ghosts. By the time the political red tape clears and he realizes the decoy, you'll be cold."

Dillon checked his watch. "Time to wrap this up."

He produced a syringe. He didn't hesitate. He didn't shake. He handled it with the efficiency of a man disposing of a sick dog. He found the vein in her arm-the one already bruised from months of 'treatments'-and pushed the plunger.

Ice replaced the fire. The cold seized her heart.

In the final second, as the darkness swallowed the warehouse, Cassandra heard a distant, thunderous boom. The ground shook. Kade. He had come. He had found her. But he was too late.

If I have a soul, she thought, the hatred burning brighter than life itself, I will drag you both to hell.

Her heart stopped.

Then, her lungs exploded with air.

Cassandra shot up, gasping, her chest heaving like a drowning victim breaking the surface. She clawed at her