Reborn To Ruin My Billionaire Husband

Vivienne

The first thing I smelled was gasoline.

It filled my nose, burned the back of my throat, and dragged me out of the darkness with a cough so violent that pain tore through my chest.

Smoke covered the windshield in a thick gray sheet. The steering wheel had crushed into my ribs, my left leg was pinned beneath the twisted dashboard, and when I tried to pull free, pain ran from my knee to my hip.

For several seconds, I could not remember how I had ended up there. Then the memory returned all at once: I had pressed the brake pedal and felt it sink uselessly beneath my foot as the coastal road curved ahead. I had fought the wheel, hit the guardrail, and felt the car leave the road with nothing beneath me but open air.

I grabbed the seat belt release and pushed it, but nothing happened.

“No. Please.”

I pushed again, harder this time, but the buckle refused to open. Fire was already moving across the hood, bright beneath the smoke.

“Help me!”

My voice struck the rocks and came back thin and useless. I pulled at the belt until its edge cut into my fingers.

“Somebody help me!”

A shadow appeared above the cliff.

Tears rushed into my eyes before I could make out the face.

“Damien!”

Another figure stepped beside him, and I knew her before the smoke cleared enough for me to see properly.

Celeste Moreau rested one hand against my husband’s arm as though they were watching something unfortunate that had nothing to do with them.

For months, I had known there was another woman. I had found hotel receipts first, followed by messages and transfers into accounts connected to Celeste’s consulting company.

Damien had denied everything until there was too much evidence left to deny. Then he had cried, begged, and sworn the affair meant nothing.

I had stopped believing him by then. I had never imagined he could stand above me while I burned.

“Damien, please!” I screamed.

He looked directly at me without moving.

Fire spread along the driver’s door.

“Get me out!”

Celeste said something I could not hear over the wind. Damien answered her, and then she laughed.

That quiet laugh forced the last five years into a shape I could finally understand. The missing money from Sterling Holdings, my father’s humiliation when the board removed him, the collapse of our stock, and the proxy companies that bought Sterling assets for almost nothing had never been separate disasters.

Damien had stood beside me through all of them. He had held me while I cried and promised he would save my family, even as he helped destroy it.

“Why?” My voice barely survived the smoke. “Damien, why?”

For one terrible moment, I thought he might answer. He turned away instead.

My husband walked from the edge of the cliff while the fire reached my legs.

I screamed until my throat could produce nothing more, and when the car exploded, pain disappeared so quickly that I had no time to understand death before there was nothing at all.

I woke with the scream still trapped in my throat.

My hands moved over my face, chest, and legs before I was fully awake. There was no blood beneath my palms, no broken glass cutting into my skin, and no heat consuming the air around me.

Cool air touched the sweat at my neck.

I was sitting in a bed covered in cream silk.

I knew the white curtains. I knew the pale rug beside the bed and the framed photograph of my mother on the dresser. I had spent half my childhood waking in this room.

“No.”

I pushed the covers aside and crossed to the mirror.

The woman staring back at me had long chestnut hair tangled around her shoulders and wide green eyes in a face that had not yet been worn down by five years of marriage. I touched my cheek, tracing skin that should have been older.

I looked twenty-three again.

The date on my phone was May 19. My wedding was tomorrow.

Damien’s name appeared on the screen before I had finished reading the date.

I let the call ring until it ended.

A message followed: Morning, beautiful. One more day until you are officially mine.

Another arrived seconds later: I will am already on my way. Do not let the wedding stress get to you. I love you.

Five years ago, I had read those words in this room and smiled.

Now I could hear Celeste laughing above the cliff.

I sat on the edge of the bed until I could hold the phone without shaking. If grief or shock had driven me insane, there would be time to discover that later. If something impossible had returned me to this morning, I was not going to waste it asking why.

My father had given me access to a private Sterling Holdings financial archive when I began learning the family business. In my first life, I had not discovered Damien’s theft until after our third anniversary, when there was almost nothing left to save.

I still remembered the names attached to the earliest transfers: Horizon Advisory, L.M. Capital, and Moreau Consulting.

I searched the archive.

The first transfer appeared within minutes, followed by another. The amounts were smaller than the ones I remembered finding years later, but the pattern was already there.

I downloaded everything I could verify and sent the files to my father.

Dad, do not confront Damien. Check these transfers yourself. Start with Horizon Advisory. Please trust me for twenty-four hours.

Someone knocked almost as soon as I sent it.

“Miss Sterling?”

It was Martha, our housekeeper.

“Yes?”

“Mr. Ashford is downstairs. He says he needs to see you.”

Of course he did.

I showered and dressed, then stood before the mirror until my fingers stopped trembling. Less than a day ago, as far as my mind was concerned, I had begged Damien to save my life.

Now he was downstairs because he expected me to become his wife.

That knowledge made it easier to walk.

When I entered the sitting room, Damien rose from the sofa. He was still painfully handsome, with dark blond hair, blue eyes, and the warm smile that had once convinced me I was safest when I was with him.

“Vivienne.”

He crossed toward me.

I stepped back before he could touch me.

His smile faltered. “What is wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You are pale.”

He lifted a hand toward my face, and I caught his wrist.

My father lowered the newspaper he had been reading. Across the room, Damien’s mother stopped speaking to the wedding planner.

Damien glanced at my fingers around his wrist before returning his attention to my face.

“Vivienne?”

I released him.

My father stood. “Is everything all right?”

“No,” I said.

Damien watched me reach for my engagement ring.

“What are you doing?”

I pulled the ten-million-dollar diamond from my finger and placed it in his palm. His fingers closed around it automatically.

“There will be no wedding tomorrow.”

Nobody spoke for several seconds.

My father stared at me. “What?”

Damien gave a short, disbelieving laugh. “Vivienne, this is not funny.”

“I am not joking.”

His mother rose from her chair. “What exactly is going on?”

“The wedding is canceled.”

Damien’s smile disappeared. He came toward me with the measured patience he used when he believed I was being unreasonable.

“You are upset. Whatever happened, we can discuss it privately.”

“There is nothing to discuss.”

“Vivienne.”

“I will not marry you.”

His fingers tightened around the ring.

“Why?”

Because you ruined my father. Because you brought Celeste into my home. Because when I begged you to save me, you watched me burn.

I gave him none of those answers. If Damien did not know what I remembered, he could not plan around it.

I met his eyes and managed a small smile.

“That is what you are going to spend a very long time trying to figure out.”