All Chapters of Reborn: Make Them Pay: Chapter 11 - Chapter 17

I instantly regret saying all of that out loud.Saying it makes it real.And I don’t know what’s more terrifying; that I’m wrong, or that I’m right.I force myself to look at my tormentor.He looks… stunned.He doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t argue. Doesn’t even interrupt.He just stares at me like I’ve completely lost my mind.Fair.The silence doesn’t last long.Thud.A muffled moan follows.Then another.My stomach twists.I let out a small, awkward laugh, trying to break the tension.“Wow, who needs porn when you get it live?”He doesn’t laugh.Doesn’t even smirk.Instead, his expression shifts into something between annoyance and confusion.“At this point,” he says flatly, gesturing upward, “I assumed you wouldn’t find it amusing, considering it’s coming from your penthouse.”The words hit instantly.And this time, I really listen.The sounds.The voices.My breath catches.I know that voice.I know both of them.My husband’s low groan — unmistakable.And Anya…Anyone within a ten-mile ra

“What on earth are you doing here?” Vance accuses.I almost laugh, because the ones who should be questioned are standing right in front of me. Instead, I smirk and test him.“Oh darling, I just met our friendly neighbour,” I say sweetly. “He’s a real charmer. My first impression was far from the gentleman he is.”They both freeze, and it’s almost too easy.“Are you two okay?” I tilt my head slightly, letting out a soft laugh. “It’s almost as if I’ve caught you both committing a crime.”Their laughter follows a beat too late, forced and hollow.“No, gal, nobody’s guilty here,” Anya says quickly. “We’ve just had an… eventful afternoon—” She cuts herself off abruptly, covering her mouth as if she can take the words back.I glance at Vance, catching the subtle tick of his jaw.“What did our neighbour say?” he asks, voice tight. “What did he tell you?”There it is. Panic.I chuckle lightly, easing the tension on purpose. If I’m going home with them, I need to play this carefully.“Well, h

The room falls into a silence that doesn’t belong.Not the kind people pay for — not the curated quiet of luxury penthouses and soundproof glass — but something heavier. Denser. Like the air itself has shifted.Like something irreversible has just been said.I don’t move.I just watch her.Charlotte.Scarlett.Lottie.Too many names for one woman.Too many versions of the same person standing right in front of me — and somehow, none of them feel wrong.This is my second life.The words don’t settle. They don’t make sense. They don’t fit into anything rational, and yet they echo in my head with an unsettling clarity.I should question it.I should dismantle it, pick it apart until it falls into something explainable.I don’t.Because I’ve seen it too.Not in words.Not like this.But in fragments. In moments that never made sense until now.Her body in my arms.Too still.Too cold.Her voice — faint, strained.Don’t take me there.I did anyway.My jaw tightens.I thought I was saving h