All Chapters of Reborn to Marry My Ex's Enemy: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

POV WarrenMy engine roared as I left Amy’s mansion behind. The asphalt seemed to surrender to my command as I accelerated toward the city’s financial district. I should have felt satisfied. After all, I had achieved the impossible: I cleared a multi-million dollar debt, restored my credibility, and backed Amy into a corner at the altar. But the coldness in her eyes… that wasn’t part of the plan. This new Amy—icy and impenetrable—was an enigma I had yet to crack.I pulled into my private spot at the office. The glass and steel tower stood as a monument to my ambition, though I knew the foundations were trembling within. I rode the private elevator up, adjusting my cufflinks in the mirror’s reflection. I needed to project power. On the 42nd floor, only the muffled drone of conversation from the boardroom, where the shareholders awaited me, broke the hallway’s silence.Before I could enter, a heavy hand landed on my

Amy’s POVThe silence in that mansion had never felt so loud. Every creak of the floorboards beneath the rug and every chime of the grandfather clock in the hall echoed like a gunshot inside my skull. I stared at my phone screen until the blue light scorched my eyes, waiting for a sign, a trace—any word from Simon. I had sent the message an eternity ago—or maybe only twenty minutes—and the silence that followed felt like a death sentence.Not only that, but I couldn’t keep my legs still. I paced the room, my bare feet sinking into the shadows while my fingers tore at my cuticles. Anxiety left a metallic tang on the tip of my tongue. I had done it: Sara was alive. I snatched her from death’s grip at the last second, and that relief should have sustained me. Instead, the pain of not saying goodbye felt like a black hole in my chest. I wanted to hold her, feel the warmth of her skin, and ensure she stayed away from Peter’s rot forever.Suddenly, a voice shattered my haze. It came from do

Jackson’s POVI would never forget the sound of that impact. It wasn’t the metallic crunch of two vehicles colliding but a muffled, fleshy thud—terribly final. In the rearview mirror, I watched the night swallow Amy as the blow flung her like a petal snatched by a gale. For a fraction of a second, the black sedan’s headlights caught her—a flash of pale skin and silk—before she vanished onto the dark asphalt.My fingers clawed the steering wheel until my knuckles throbbed. Every instinct in my body screamed at me to slam on the brakes, to reverse, to run to her and hold her hand while life fought to stay in her lungs. But I didn’t stop.I couldn’t.Amy had hurled herself in front of that car for a reason. She turned her body into a human barricade so I could pass. If I stopped now, I would render her sacrifice meaningless. The police would arrest me, and Sara’s trail would bleed out like an open wound. I swallowed the bitter taste of necessary cowardice and floored it. Tears stung my e

Simon’s POVSilence filled the hospital corridor. The scent of alcohol and disinfectant permeated my nostrils, triggering that hated sense of fragility and death. My steps fell like ghosts upon the polished linoleum. I knew Warren wouldn’t stay away for long, but every fiber of my being demanded I see her—even if only for a brief, dangerous, and painful second.I stopped before the light oak door. My hand hesitated over the brushed steel handle. I took a deep breath, feeling the cold air sting my lungs. The last time we stood this close, I had bared my soul. I had handed her my heart, raw and pulsing, and Amy—with a surgeon’s precision—had returned it with a request for distance.I turned the knob with near-religious caution. The door yielded without a sound.Blue light bathed the room, broken only by the rhythmic glow of the life monitors. Amy lay there, pale against the white sheets, looking like a porcelain doll some

Amy’s POVThe metallic click of the turning doorknob broke the silence. My heart leaped, hammering against my bandaged ribs; for a second, panic paralyzed me. I expected Warren to burst through the door, his face twisted with rage, ready to shatter the fragile peace I was trying to rebuild. But the door held. The solid oak remained still despite the persistent attempts of whoever stood on the other side.“Simon…” I whispered, my voice thick with fear. “He’s going to break the door down.”Simon didn't pull his gaze from mine. The pressure from outside didn't seem to faze him at all. His hand continued to frame my face, his thumb tracing a soft line across my pale skin, sending an involuntary shiver through my body.“He won't,” Simon said, his voice sounding like dark, comforting velvet. “I made sure no one would interrupt us. I locked the door.”The weight of his question still hung between us, demanding an answer I feared to give but could no longer withhold. I squeezed my eyes shut,