Chapter 5

After the maid left the room, I tried closing my eyes again, hoping I was just in a dream. Maybe this was just a trick the afterlife brought. But when I woke up thirty minutes later, I was still there…in the room filled with luxurious furniture and antiques that looked like the room belonged to a queen.

This was really happening. I had truly been REBORN.

I didn't know what to think about it, so I just stared at the door until a series of knocks was heard and I watched the door open. Three young ladies walked in with a hanger trolley carrying beautiful dresses.

“We're here to prepare you, miss,” the Maid from earlier came forward and announced.

I stared at her for a few seconds. I had read stories of people who died and then got reborn. Most times, they weren't recognised in the new life. It was as if they had been in that new world living a life they weren't even aware about. If that was my case, that means no one would know I wasn't supposed to be in this particular life. I would have to pretend that I had always been here.

I heaved a heavy sigh before standing up from the bed. I clutched my head and released a pained wince. The Maid quickly rushed to me, concern etched in her young beautiful face.

“What's wrong, miss?” She asked.

“I__i just…I just can't remember how I got here. I can't remember a thing,” I said with a timid voice. 

The maid smiled softly at me. “That's quite understandable. You were diagnosed with slight amnesia before the boss brought you here, and you've been sleeping since then. The boss, your father will explain everything to you soon. Let's get you ready now,” she said and helped me up.

I didn't say anything else. I just let them do what they came for, scrub my skin and dress me up. After they were done tugging my hair, twisting it into beautiful curls, my eyes shifted to the mirror. And what I saw shocked me.

I wasn't the scrawny girl people often bullied because of her ugly appearance. No, instead I stood tall, the beautiful sequined gown enhancing curves I didn't know I had. It was like I had blossomed into a sexy model overnight. My skin glowed and I almost wanted to deny this wasn't my body. But I could see it, the resemblance. My piercing green eyes stood out, and my eye lash brushed the top of my eyes casting perfect shadow to my well structured face. 

God! I was gorgeous. It was almost ethereal. 

“You're very beautiful, miss. I wonder who would ever think of not wanting you as their child,” the familiar maid said. Her words pricked something in me. If only she knew. If only she saw how I was treated in my last life by the people I thought loved me. 

But then, it gripped me. How did she know my family hated me? Was she from my past life too? But I couldn't recognise her.

“Wh_why do you say that?”I asked, looking up at her.

Her expression immediately changed to one of fear. “I… I just assumed that you were abandoned by your real family since the master adopted you.”

Oh. 

I finally pieced it. I was not born into a rich family but rather chosen by one. I wonder who my real parents were in this new life. Were they dead like the one from the past life or did they just choose to abandon me?

I didn't reply or even smile. I had been given another chance at life, not sure why. But I wouldn't let this opportunity pass me by. I would make sure I lived the life I was denied before.

Soon I was walking down the hall to meet my new father. My hands wouldn’t stop trembling. The maid’s soft grip on my wrist was the only thing guiding me as we descended the marble staircase, every step echoing like a hammer against my ribs.

“Don’t be afraid, Miss Avery,” she murmured kindly. “Master is waiting.”

Master.

The word made me shiver. My last master had been Drake. And he had destroyed me.

The doors opened to a grand study that smelled of leather and expensive cigars. Behind the desk sat a man whose presence filled the room without effort. His hair was silvered at the temples, his tailored suit pressed to perfection, his eyes sharp but softened when they landed on me.

He rose instantly.

“Avery,” he said, his voice rich, almost fatherly. “Welcome home.”

My lips parted, but no sound came. Home?

He walked to me, resting both hands firmly on my shoulders. His touch was steady, warm—so unlike the hands that had once bruised me.

“Yes,” he said, smiling with pride. “You are my daughter now. From this day forward, you belong here.”

My throat closed. I wanted to collapse into his arms, to cry, to scream that I had died, that I had been punished for crimes I didn’t commit. But all I managed was a whisper.

“Thank you… Father.”

His smile deepened, satisfied. He gestured to the maid. “Take her to her room. Tonight, she will meet her brothers.”

But I couldn't just sit still in the room..I needed to know where I really was. Where gate had brought me.

I shouldn’t be alive.

The last thing I remembered was the burn of poison clawing through my throat, my baby’s faint kicks fading under my hand, and the sound of Drake’s voice — cold, furious, final. Death had been a release.

But now… I was here.

Alive.

In a mansion too perfect, too golden to be real. The walls glittered with chandeliers, the air smelled of roses, and every maid who passed me bowed and called me *Miss Avery* as if I had always belonged.

My fingers trembled as I touched the banister. Cold steel. Solid. This wasn’t a dream.

Yet it didn’t feel like life either. It felt like some cruel joke — waking up in silk pajamas with soft sheets against my skin, when just hours ago I was nothing but bruises, scars, and filth.

The master said I was his daughter.

My father. I had no father. My parents had disowned me long ago, too ashamed of the daughter who could never bring them pride. So who was this *father* waiting for me now?

Curiosity tugged me down the hall. I told myself I shouldn’t stray, that I should be grateful for this miracle, but my feet moved anyway, silent against polished marble.

Then I heard it.

A sound that made my blood freeze.

A moan. A woman’s moan — breathless, gasping, shameless.

My stomach turned. No. Please, not what I think—

But my hand pushed the door open before I could stop myself.

And I saw.

A man’s body, all muscle and sinew, moving over a half-naked woman beneath him. Sheets tangled around their legs. Skin slapped against skin. The woman cried out in pleasure, clawing at his back.

My scream ripped out of me before I could swallow it.

He froze.

His head snapped toward me, hair falling across stormy eyes that widened at the sight of me.

Then he cursed, shoved off the woman, and moved — too fast.

Before I could run, he had me. His hand clamped over my mouth, his bare chest pressed against my back, hot and solid.

“Shh!” he hissed against my ear, voice low, rough, dangerous. “Do you want the whole house to know?”

My breath caught, my body going rigid. His scent wrapped around me — musk, sweat, expensive cologne, and sex. I wanted to gag.

I mumbled against his palm, thrashing weakly, but his grip was unyielding.

He spun me to face him. My heart slammed against my ribs as I looked up into the face of my captor.

Sharp jawline. Lips curved in a scowl. Black hair falling into eyes that felt like storms swallowing me whole.

And then — his expression shifted. Recognition.

Slowly, he dropped his hand, glaring down at me in disgust. “A maid? Pathetic. Can’t even knock?”

“I’m not—”

“Baby,” the woman moaned from the bed, stretching like a cat. “Come back. Ignore her.”

His jaw clenched. With one last burning glare, he shoved me out into the hall and slammed the door in my face.

I stumbled backward, breathless, my cheeks aflame, my body betraying me with a shiver.

*Who is he?* I thought, clutching my chest. *That man… Why does he feel like danger and temptation all at once?*

That night, Father guided me into a grand sitting room glowing with lamplight. He finally wanted to introduce me to ‘my brothers’. 

But was I ready? 

I hadn't gotten over my encounter with the strange man I caught having sex.

“Boys,” he announced, his voice brimming with pride, “meet your sister.”

Three men lounged there.

The first sat at a laptop, muscles flexing with each keystroke, his eyes sharp as steel when he finally looked up.

The second spoke into a phone, his back to me, his tone cool, commanding. That voice… It made my skin prickle.

And the third—oh God.

He smirked at me lazily, sprawled in his chair like a king, his eyes dragging over me in a way that made my knees weaken. Recognition struck me like lightning.

It was him. The man from the bedroom.

I flushed scarlet, my stomach knotting as his smirk deepened, like he knew exactly what I was remembering.

“Show some respect,” Father snapped. “She is family now.”

The first son closed his laptop. His gaze was calculating, unreadable.

The second hung up his phone and turned slowly.

And my world stopped.

That face. That cruelly beautiful face.

No.

My knees buckled. My hand flew to my mouth to stifle the scream clawing up my throat.

It was him.

Drake.

My husband. My executioner. The man who had ruined me, who had killed my unborn child.

And now—my brother. Adopted brother.

Father’s voice echoed through the silence, sealing my nightmare.

“Princess,” he said warmly, oblivious to the horror splitting me apart, “meet your three brothers.”