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Chapter 2
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2026-10-01 18:39:42I didn’t wait for Marcus to finish his sputtering rant. I just tapped the red icon on my screen and dropped the phone onto the kitchen island.
"Get out," I said. Chloe let out a wet, hysterical laugh, rubbing her reddened cheek. "You can't kick us out! This is Marcus's house!""Actually," I said, pulling my phone back out and opening the smart-home app, "it's in my name.
I paid the mortgage. And since I just filed for divorce, I'm revoking your guest privileges."I tapped the screen.
Click. Whir. Click.
The heavy deadbolts on the front door engaged. The electronic keypad on the garage door flashed red, locking down.
I had just changed every passcode and disabled their biometric access. "You're bluffing," Evelyn hissed, struggling to her feet. "Marcus will have you arrested!""Tell him to hurry," I said, grabbing my pre-packed tactical duffel from the hall closet—a habit from my military days that was currently saving me a lot of time. "Because in about thirty minutes, the trash collection truck is going to block the driveway, and you three are going to be trapped inside with it."I walked out the front door, pulling it shut behind me.
I could hear them screaming my name, pounding on the reinforced glass. I didn't look back. I had a war to fund.
The law firm of Sterling & Hayes smelled like old money and mahogany. I sat across from Arthur Sterling, a man who looked like he ironed his socks.
"Miss Vance," Arthur said, sliding a thick leather folder across the desk. "As I was telling you on the phone, the DNA results were conclusive.
You are the sole biological daughter of Richard and Elena Vance. They passed away three years ago, but the structure of their estate was... highly specific."He opened the folder. "They set up an irrevocable bloodline trust.
The moment your identity was verified, the assets transferred to you. We have one hundred and fifty million in liquid capital, plus a portfolio of commercial real estate."I stared at the numbers. One hundred and fifty million.
In my past life, I had let Marcus talk me into signing power of attorney so he could "manage" it for us. He bought Chloe a boutique and an armored truck.
"What's the most valuable physical asset in the portfolio?" I asked, my voice steady. Arthur flipped a page. "An abandoned logistics warehouse in the industrial district.
Fifty thousand square feet. High ceilings, reinforced concrete, independent grid access. It’s been sitting empty for two years."Perfect. A fortress. "I want the deed transferred to a newly formed LLC by noon today," I said. "Also, I need you to file the divorce papers and freeze any joint accounts I share with Marcus Thorne.
Completely freeze them."Arthur nodded, making a note. "Consider it done. Though I should warn you, Mr. Thorne called my office yesterday. He was quite... insistent about his spousal rights."I smiled. It didn't reach my eyes.
"Let him be insistent. He won't get a dime."I signed the final stack of documents, effectively severing Marcus from my life and my wallet.
An hour later, I was standing in the center of the massive, empty logistics warehouse. The rolling steel doors were shut, sealing me in the quiet dark.
It was time to test my new toy. I closed my eyes and reached inward. The cold, static hum of the spatial void flared to life behind my eyelids. I opened my eyes and focused on a heavy wooden shipping pallet sitting near the wall. Pull.The air warped. With a soft thwump, the three-hundred-pound pallet vanished. I checked the mental map in my head.
It was sitting in the blackness, perfectly preserved. I exhaled and pushed the thought outward. Pop. The pallet reappeared on the concrete. A sharp spike of pain drove through my temples, and I swayed, catching my balance. I gritted my teeth, waiting for the dizziness to pass.
Rule number one, I thought, rubbing my forehead. It takes a physical toll. The larger the mass, the bigger the migraine. I’d need to train my stamina just as much as my combat skills if I wanted to use this space in a firefight.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, expecting another angry text from Marcus. Instead, it was a push notification from a global news aggregator. BREAKING: Unexplained riots in Seattle. Authorities blame a new strain of rabies.
Curfew enacted in three districts.I stared at the screen, a cold sweat breaking out on the back of my neck. In my past life, the first riots hadn't happened until Day 45. The timeline was shifting. The virus was mutating faster than I remembered.
I didn't have sixty days to prepare. I threw my duffel bag over my shoulder and marched toward the exit. I had a lot less time to save myself than I thought.
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Reborn Before Doomsday: The Ex-Military Wife’s Revenge Chapter 7
The first time I tried to do a pull-up, I hung there for exactly four seconds before dropping onto the mat like a sack of wet flour.I stared up at the ceiling of the private gym, my arms trembling, my palms raw. The pull-up bar creaked above me, almost mockingly.Pathetic.In my past life, I could do thirty consecutive pull-ups in full combat gear. I could run ten miles with a sixty-pound ruck and still have breath left to shoot straight. That body was gone. This body, the one I'd woken up in, was soft. The skin was smooth, the muscles undefined, the core weak from three years of carrying groceries and bending over to pick up Leo's toys.I rolled off the mat and landed on my feet, wincing as my unconditioned knees protested. "Again," I muttered to myself.I jumped up, grabbed the bar, and hung. My shoulders burned. My grip slipped. I dropped."Again."By the twentieth attempt, I managed six seconds. By the fiftieth, I managed twelve. My hands were blistered, my forearms on fire, and I
Reborn Before Doomsday: The Ex-Military Wife’s Revenge Chapter 6
I sat in the leather booth of my broker's office, watching the ticker on the screen. "Sell it all," I told him.The broker blinked, his fingers hovering over his keyboard. "Miss Vance, these are blue-chip luxury holdings. High-end fashion conglomerates, private equity, luxury real estate trusts. They're yielding eight percent annually. Are you absolutely sure you want to liquidate the entire portfolio?""I'm sure."In my past life, the dividends from these exact stocks paid for Chloe's shopping sprees and Evelyn's country club memberships. In thirty days, those stocks would be worthless digital ghosts. Paper money doesn't stop teeth. "Transfer the proceeds to my primary checking. The one that isn't frozen," I added.He typed furiously. "Done. You're liquidating roughly four million in assets."Four million. A drop in the bucket compared to the physical gold sitting in my spatial void, but it was exactly what I needed for today.The Sterling & Croft Auction House smelled of old money, e
Reborn Before Doomsday: The Ex-Military Wife’s Revenge Chapter 5
The angle grinder screamed, throwing a shower of orange sparks across the concrete floor. I was watching the crew weld the final hinges onto the inner blast door when my phone buzzed in my pocket. Arthur Sterling. I wiped the grease off my hands with a rag and answered. "Tell me you have good news, Arthur.""I have news," Arthur's crisp voice came through the speaker. "Mr. Thorne filed an emergency injunction at nine this morning. A judge just granted it. Your joint accounts and any assets tied to the marital estate are going to be frozen as of ten 10:00 "I didn't flinch. I just leaned against the cold steel of the doorframe. "He actually did it," I said. "He believes he has secured a leverage point," Arthur said, sounding deeply unimpressed. "He thinks he's trapped you, Miss Vance.. I advised him that the irrevocable trust is untouchable, but he's proceeding under the assumption that the liquid capital in your joint checking and savings is marital property.""Let him think that," I
Reborn Before Doomsday: The Ex-Military Wife’s Revenge Chapter 4
The roar of an engine grinder echoed off the steel walls of my new fortress. I stood in the center of the fifty-thousand-square-foot logistics warehouse, watching a crew of six men weld the secondary blast doors into place. The air smelled of ozone, melting steel, and dust. It was the smell of security. My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, expecting a text from Arthur, my lawyer, confirming the final transfer of the property deed. Instead, it was a security alert from the outer gate camera. I tapped the screen. A black luxury sedan was idling at the pedestrian access door. Standing in front of the intercom, looking like a pair of rabid dogs denied entry to a butcher shop, were Marcus and his mother, Evelyn. I sighed, slipping the phone back into my pocket. I had hoped the restraining order Arthur filed that morning would keep them at bay. Apparently, Marcus’s entitlement was stronger than his fear of legal consequences. I signaled the foreman to pause the welding and wa
Reborn Before Doomsday: The Ex-Military Wife’s Revenge Chapter 3
By six the next morning, the sky was still a bruised purple, and I was already standing in the cavernous warehouse of a restaurant wholesale supplier on the edge of the city. I didn’t bother with grocery stores. Supermarkets would be looted to the bone within forty-eight hours of the outbreak. I needed commercial bulk. I bought five hundred pounds of white rice, two hundred pounds of dried beans, canned meats, powdered milk, and blocks of dehydrated butter. I cleared out their entire inventory of water purification tablets, heavy-duty Mylar tarps, and industrial first-aid kits. The clerk, a bored teenager with a nose ring, stared at my new black Amex like it was a winning lottery ticket. "You need us to deliver this, ma'am?" he asked. "No," I said, swiping the card. "I'll take it out back."I walked out to the secluded loading bay. The air was crisp, smelling of diesel and damp concrete. I placed my hand on the wooden pallet holding three hundred pounds of rice. I closed my eyes an
Reborn Before Doomsday: The Ex-Military Wife’s Revenge Chapter 2
I didn’t wait for Marcus to finish his sputtering rant. I just tapped the red icon on my screen and dropped the phone onto the kitchen island."Get out," I said. Chloe let out a wet, hysterical laugh, rubbing her reddened cheek. "You can't kick us out! This is Marcus's house!""Actually," I said, pulling my phone back out and opening the smart-home app, "it's in my name.I paid the mortgage. And since I just filed for divorce, I'm revoking your guest privileges."I tapped the screen.Click. Whir. Click.The heavy deadbolts on the front door engaged. The electronic keypad on the garage door flashed red, locking down.I had just changed every passcode and disabled their biometric access. "You're bluffing," Evelyn hissed, struggling to her feet. "Marcus will have you arrested!""Tell him to hurry," I said, grabbing my pre-packed tactical duffel from the hall closet—a habit from my military days that was currently saving me a lot of time. "Because in about thirty minutes, the trash collectio
