Reborn To Love My Wheelchair Billionaire

Aubree's eyes snapped open.

A violent wave of dizziness hit her, blurring her vision. The deafening crack of thunder rattled the windowpanes.

She gasped for air, her lungs burning as if she'd been held underwater. Her hands clawed at the silk sheets beneath her. The fabric was smooth and cool. Real.

"You are an absolute lunatic, Aubree!"

Her father's furious roar pierced through the door.

Aubree's heart seized. The sound of Orville's voice, the exact words he was yelling, sent a shard of ice straight through her soul. It was happening again.

She scrambled out of bed, her bare feet hitting the freezing hardwood floor. She stumbled, her knees weak, and threw herself toward the vanity.

A flash of lightning illuminated the room. She stared at the mirror. A young girl stared back, her eyes wide with terror, framed by thick, smeared black eyeliner.

She looked down at her hands. She turned them over, her breath catching in her throat. They were pale and flawless. No deep cuts. No sticky, warm blood from her dying moments.

Then, the memory hit her, crashing into her brain with the force of a freight train. The memory of pushing Ezra down the grand staircase—the violent act that had sealed her miserable fate in her past life. It was the catalyst for her entire nightmare, and now, impossibly, she was back, moments after it happened.

A massive wave of panic and crushing regret swallowed her whole. Hot tears spilled over her lower lashes, tracking through the black makeup on her cheeks.

She couldn't care less about her father's yelling. She spun around and yanked the heavy door open.

Orville stood in the hallway, startled by the sudden movement. His thick eyebrows pulled together, his mouth opening to deliver another harsh reprimand.

Aubree completely ignored him, squeezing past his broad shoulders like a gust of wind.

"Aubree!"

Her legs were still shaking uncontrollably, but she forced herself into a desperate, stumbling run. Her bare feet sank into the plush runner in the hallway. She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek, using the sharp pain to keep herself grounded. Find Ezra. That was the only thought screaming in her skull.

She reached the top of the stairs and took the turn too fast, her foot slipping on the polished wood. Her knee slammed hard into the edge of the step.

A sharp, blinding pain shot up her thigh. She gritted her teeth, tasting copper, grabbed the banister, and kept running.

Mrs. Gable, the housekeeper, stepped out from a corridor holding a tray. Her eyes went wide.

"Miss Aubree! Where are you going—"

Aubree dodged the housekeeper's outstretched arm. She hit the entryway, not bothering with a coat or shoes. She grabbed the handles of the massive double doors and pulled them open with all her body weight.

The storm violently invaded the house. Freezing rain and howling wind instantly soaked her thin nightgown.

She ran straight into the downpour. The freezing water shocked