All Chapters of Rebirth of the Billionaire’s Substitute Bride: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Kira’s POVI lay flat on the freezing tiled floor. My face was pressed against the ground beneath the massive steel prep table. Just a few feet away, Martha’s body rested in a growing pool of dark liquid, her blood.The red laser dot was gone. The sniper had taken his shot and vanished immediately right after.I did not move, or cry. My fingers were locked in a death grip around the antique brass key Martha had pressed into my palm. Its teeth dug sharply into my skin, anchoring my mind to reality.Whoever was on a hunt to exterminating the Peterson bloodline were still out there. And they had found me.The silence in the room was heavier than the darkness. Then, suddenly, the world around me exploded.The Lockwood estate’s perimeter alarms finally registered the shattered glass. A deafening, high-pitched siren wailed through the mansion, vibrating against my chest. Red emergency lights began flashing in the hallways, casting bright strobing shadows across the destroyed kitchen.Boots

Kira’s POVThe cafe smelled like burnt espresso and stale alcohol.I walked past the empty front counter and slid into the booth directly across from Theodore. He didn't look up. He was staring at the amber liquid in his glass, looking like a man who had already decided to die.In my past life, Theodore was a Wall Street legend who flew too close to the sun. He made a catastrophic error, lost his clients' money, and became a pariah. But right now, he was still breathing. And I needed a ghost to do my bidding."The table is taken," he mumbled, his voice thick with liquor. He waved a dismissive hand without lifting his eyes."By who?" I asked smoothly. "Your creditors? Or the loan sharks waiting outside your apartment?"That got his attention. He snapped his head up, his bloodshot eyes locking onto my face. He took in my appearance, frowning in confusion."Who the hell are you?" he demanded, his tone defensive.I glanced at the clock hanging above the barista counter. It was exactly 9:

Kira’s POVAziel’s whisper sent a surprisingly electric thrill straight down my spine. The closet suddenly felt impossibly small, and the heat radiating from his chest was suffocating, but I forced my breathing to remain perfectly steady. He didn't have the flash drive. He didn't have the cache logs. He only had a suspicious wife hiding in his coats. I might still have a way out.I looked up into his intense eyes, letting a slow, challenging smile touch my lips."I was looking for a reason to stay in this house, Mr. Lockwood," I whispered back, my voice dripping with defiance. "But it seems all I found were empty suits."Aziel’s jaw tightened, a flash of something incredibly predatory crossing his face. He knew I was lying. I knew he knew. But without the digital proof from the terminal, we were at a stalemate.I placed my hand flat against his chest and pushed gently. He didn't move for the first few seconds. Then, slowly, he stepped back, allowing me to slip out of the closet and w

Kira’s POVThey were going to kill him, and it was entirely my fault.My fingers flew across the keyboard, bypassing security protocols to force an emergency connection to Theodore’s micro earpiece."Theodore!" I barked into my microphone. "Aziel is tracking you. They are sending a strike team. Get off the street right now!"There was a burst of static on the line, followed by the sound of heavy, ragged breathing. Theodore was running. "I picked the signal a while ago. I'm in an alley—wait, there’s a black van blocking the exit. Aurelia, they—"The sound of a physical struggle echoed through my laptop speakers. I picked up the sound of a thud, a sharp gasp, and then the violent sliding of a metal van door slamming shut.Then, silence.I sat back in my chair, my heart pounding frantically against my ribs. They had him.I didn't disconnect the audio feed. As long as the micro-earpiece remained hidden in Theodore’s ear, I had a live wire directly into Aziel’s interrogation room. I closed

Kira’s POVMidnight rain washed the streets of the city.The Peterson Private Hospital stood tall against the dark sky, looking more like a fortress than a place of healing.I stood in a dark alley across the street, shivering slightly in the damp air. I was not wearing custom silk or designer heels tonight. I wore a shapeless blue medical scrubs I had stolen from a commercial laundry van two blocks away.My dark hair was pulled into a tight bun. I wore a light blue surgical mask over my face and a pair of thick, fake prescription glasses. I looked exactly like a tired, overworked night-shift nurse.But a real nurse didn't carry a weaponized clipboard.Tucked inside the plastic casing of my medical clipboard was a highly modified digital tablet. Wires ran from the tablet down my sleeve, connecting to a small signal disruptor hidden in my pocket.I took a deep breath, stepping out of the alley and into the rain.I walked straight through the emergency room sliding doors. The lobby was