Reborn To Marry The Disabled Billionaire

The suffocating scent of lilies flooded Bonnie Galvan's senses, thick and cloying, like funeral flowers. Her eyes shot open.

A gasp tore from her throat, raw and desperate, as she sucked in air. Her lungs burned.

The world swam into focus. She was in a room of blinding white. White walls, white furniture, and a floor-to-ceiling mirror that reflected a ghost. A ghost in a wedding dress. Her wedding dress. The seven-figure gown she'd worn seven years ago.

A tremor started in her hands, spreading through her entire body. The memory hit her not as a thought, but as a physical sensation-the brutal, biting cold of a blizzard, the rough texture of the snow against her cheek, the final, agonizing stillness as her heart gave out.

She scrambled backward, away from the mirror, away from the ghost. Her heel caught on the leg of a vanity table.

A crystal vase wobbled, then crashed to the floor. The sound of shattering glass echoed in the silent room, water and white petals spilling across the pristine carpet.

The noise was a gunshot. The heavy oak door flew open.

"Bonnie? What happened?"

Itzel Sparks stood in the doorway, a glass of water in her hand, her face a perfect mask of concern. Behind her, tall and handsome in a tailored suit, was Erwin Woods. The man who had taken everything from her.

The sight of their faces sent a wave of nausea through her. Her fingernails dug into her palms, the sharp pain a welcome anchor in the dizzying reality. She wanted to scream. She wanted to claw their lying eyes out.

But she didn't.

"Oh, honey, you're shaking," Itzel said, rushing to her side. Her grip on Bonnie's arm was surprisingly strong, almost painful. "Are you having second thoughts? It's not too late, you know."

Erwin was there a second later, his handsome face etched with worry. He gently took Bonnie's free hand, his thumb stroking her knuckles. "Bonnie, listen to me. We can leave. Right now. I won't let you marry a cripple. I won't let you throw your life away."

His touch felt like ice. His words were poison. The same words he'd used last time. Her stomach churned. This was the hand that had pushed her down the icy slope during the blizzard, leaving her with a broken ankle, unable to move as the snow slowly buried her alive.

She took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing her muscles to obey. She let her shoulders slump, her eyes widen with manufactured panic.

Her voice trembled when she spoke, a flawless imitation of the girl she used to be. "You... you really mean it? Is the car ready? The tickets?"

A flicker of triumph flashed in Itzel's eyes, gone as quickly as it appeared. "Of course, silly. Everything's ready. We just need to get you out of this dress."

Itzel's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "You've heard the rumors about Arlington. He's a monster. If you go through with this,