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Chapter 7: Rude Awakening

Author: Char Velove
last update publish date: 2026-03-14 00:17:01

The sound of my alarm jolts me from sleep. That darn By the Seaside tune will forever burden my hopes for eternal, uninterrupted rest.

I sit upright in bed, eyes still closed, letting muscle memory pat around for my phone until I finally hit snooze. Five more minutes wouldn’t hurt. I plonk back down and hug my pillow—

“Ahhhh!” I shriek.

I’ve accidentally brushed the back of my hand against Vance’s hair and mistaken it for a giant hairy spider.

The uncomfortable shiver slowly fades as I climb ou
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  • Reborn: Make Them Pay   Chapter 55: Why

    A week passes after court.Seven days of silence.Seven days of media coverage, legal paperwork, electronic monitoring confirmations, and endless discussions about security. The confinement order is already in effect. Fifty two weeks of full time home confinement. Electronic monitoring. No unsupervised movement. No financial claims. No alimony. No ownership rights once confinement ends.They agreed to every term.They had no choice.The manor feels quieter now. Not peaceful. Just drained. Like the walls themselves absorbed the tension and haven’t decided what to do with it yet.I sit across from Callum in one of the smaller sitting rooms near the east wing, sunlight stretching weakly across the carpet between us. He’s been discharged as an outpatient against multiple medical recommendations, still pale beneath the bruising near his temple.He claims he’s fine.No one believes him.“You know,” he says carefully adjusting against the couch cushions, “I still can’t believe Anya had the a

  • Reborn: Make Them Pay   Chapter 54: Creatures Of Habit

    She pulls back slightly, her hand still resting against my jaw.Neither of us speaks.The space between us stays exactly where she left it.Then my phone vibrates against the bedside table.Once.Then again.The sound cuts clean through the room.Charlotte steps back first this time, the shift immediate, controlled. The warmth in her expression settles behind something sharper as she watches me reach for the phone.I answer without taking my eyes off her.The voice on the other end is low, professional.I listen.Then hang up.“What.”“Vance and Anya were transferred overnight,” I say. “Their legal team pushed for relocation under protective grounds.”Charlotte’s expression sharpens slightly.“Protective grounds.”“They argued conflict of interest,” I reply. “Claimed Hawkins influence compromised the original holding facility.”A quiet scoff leaves her.“Creative.”“Effective,” I say. “Especially with the right judge involved.”Silence settles briefly.Charlotte folds her arms loosely

  • Reborn: Make Them Pay   Chapter 53: Those Two Weeks

    The Hawkins manor settles into a quieter rhythm at night. Not silent, never silent, but contained. The kind of quiet that carries weight instead of emptiness. The guest house sits just far enough from the main estate to feel separate, just close enough to remain useful. I accepted it without hesitation. Proximity matters. Charlotte Hawkins is not predictable. Not after five days where everything moved without her.Dinner had been controlled. Her father deliberate. Her brothers loud enough to disguise concern. Charlotte composed in a way that suggests she is already ahead of whatever comes next. She doesn’t react. She recalibrates.The knock is soft.Measured.“Come in.”The door opens and the air shifts.She steps inside like she belongs here. Dark red silk catches the low light, smooth against her skin, deliberate without being loud. The robe sits open, not careless, not revealing, just enough to draw attention without asking for it. Her hair falls loose around her shoulders, softer

  • Reborn: Make Them Pay   Chapter 52: Not Done Yet

    An hour has passed since the last round of checks. The rush of doctors has thinned into something quieter, more routine. Callum has always been liked, even here. Nurses lingered longer than necessary, voices softer, movements slower, like they were rooting for him without saying it out loud. Now only one remains, stationed near the monitors, her presence light, almost unnoticeable. Callum is propped up in bed, the colour in his face still faint but there. His breathing is his own again, uneven at times, but steady enough to feel real. Five days. The number still sits wrong, heavy in a way that hasn’t settled. Time moved without me. Things shifted while I was unconscious, decisions made, pieces placed, and I wasn’t there to control any of it. His fingers shift against the sheet as if he’s reminding himself he’s still here. His gaze drifts to me, then lower, taking in the matching hospital gowns. The corner of his mouth lifts slightly.“Do I even want to know why you’ve been admitted, C

  • Reborn: Make Them Pay   Chapter 51: Terms

    The corridor outside my room is quieter than it should be. Private floors always are. Carpeted, muted, insulated from the rest of the hospital as if money can soften reality. The lighting is warmer here, but the scent of antiseptic still lingers beneath it. Clean. Controlled. Temporary.Callum is one door down.Of course he is.Azriel never said it outright, but he did not need to. Influence moves things without announcement. Rooms shift. Access changes. People look the other way.I stop outside the door for a moment, my hand resting against the handle. The last image I have of Callum presses forward. Still. Pale. Machines doing the work his body could not.Then I push the door open.The room is dimmer than mine. The blinds are partially drawn, sunlight softened into something almost calm. The machines hum low and steady. Callum lies in the bed, his breathing more natural now, the tension in his body eased.And then I see him.Dr Li.He stands at Callum’s bedside, reviewing a chart li

  • Reborn: Make Them Pay   Chapter 50: Consequences

    I don’t get the chance to speak. Azriel wakes already tense, like the moment his eyes open he knows something has gone wrong. His gaze lands on me, sharp and immediate, and whatever relief was there disappears just as quickly. He straightens, jaw tight, shoulders set, the softness from before gone like it was never there.“You went to the penthouse.”Not a question.A statement.I hold his gaze and say nothing. The silence answers for me. The steady hum of machines fills the space between us, too calm for what sits underneath it. Light from the window cuts across the room, pale and unforgiving, catching the edge of his face and sharpening the tension in his expression.“I told you,” he says, voice low and controlled. “Do not act on emotion.”“I didn’t have time to think.”“That’s exactly the problem.”His tone does not rise, but it hardens.“You don’t get to not think, Charlotte.”The words settle heavily. I shift slightly against the sheets, ignoring the pull in my body, grounding my

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