All Chapters of Reborn to Ruin Him: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

“Sign here, and we officially have our biggest client yet.”Marcus, my newest account manager, slid the contract across my desk with visible excitement, and I signed it with a steady hand, six months of building this company into something real finally paying off in front of me.“That’s the Hendricks account,” I said, reviewing the final terms one more time before handing it back. “The one we’ve been courting since February.”“The very same.” Marcus grinned. “They specifically asked for you to lead the account personally. Apparently word’s gotten around about how thoroughly you handle client concerns.”Pride bloomed warm in my chest, entirely different from the exhausted survival I’d once mistaken for accomplishment. “Let’s not disappoint them, then.”Six months had passed since Xavier and I returned from our honeymoon, six months that had somehow managed to feel both impossibly fast and remarkably steady all at once. The company had grown from three employees to eleven, our client ro

“Thank you for agreeing to meet me.”Patricia Vance sat across from me at the small coffee shop we’d agreed on, hands wrapped tight around her cup, nerves evident in every line of her posture. She looked younger than I expected, mid-thirties perhaps, dressed professionally but with the particular exhaustion of someone carrying more than her circumstances should require.“I almost didn’t come,” I admitted honestly. “Given everything your company’s done.”“I understand completely.” She met my eyes, something raw and unguarded in her expression. “I’m not here to make excuses. I’m here because I think you deserve to understand why, even if it doesn’t change what needs to happen next.”“Then explain,” I said, keeping my voice level despite the old wariness still coiled tight in my chest.“My husband died two years ago,” Patricia said quietly. “Left me with medical debt from his illness and two children to support alone. I started Sterling Consultants because I genuinely believed I could bu

“I don’t know how to answer her.”Xavier sat across from me at the kitchen table, his mother’s text still glowing on his phone screen, something conflicted crossing his expression.“What are you actually feeling?” I asked gently, reaching across to take his hand.“Guilty, mostly.” He exhaled slowly. “She’s tried so hard this past year, ever since everything with my father finally came out. She’s been patient, understanding, never once pushing for more closeness than I’ve been ready to give. I don’t know why I still hesitate every time she asks for something like this.”“Maybe because it’s easier to keep her at a manageable distance,” I offered carefully. “Easier than actually risking real vulnerability with someone who hurt you, even unintentionally, for so many years.”Xavier considered that, something in his expression softening with recognition. “That sounds exactly right, honestly. I’ve spent thirty years protecting myself from getting close enough to be disappointed by her again.

“Brittany? Are you certain?”I sat frozen at my desk, phone pressed to my ear, disbelief tangling with old, complicated hurt at hearing her name surface again after months of silence.“The email account traces back to her directly,” Ashford confirmed. “Registered under a variation of her name, created only three days ago. I don’t believe this was carefully hidden. I think whoever sent it wanted to be found eventually.”“That doesn’t make sense,” I said slowly. “She testified against Jeremy and his mother. She left the country to start over. Why would she suddenly try to sabotage my business, months later, completely unconnected to anything from that trial?”“I don’t have an answer yet,” Ashford admitted. “I’d recommend reaching out directly, rather than assuming motive without actually understanding what’s happening.”I sat with that suggestion a long moment, old wariness warring with the same stubborn curiosity that had carried me through every difficult conversation this past year.

“I need your honest opinion. Ivory or blush?”Victoria held up two fabric swatches at my kitchen table, Sofia beside her scrolling through a tablet full of venue photographs, both of them deep in the particular chaos of early wedding planning I remembered fondly from my own experience.“Ivory,” I said, without hesitation. “It’ll photograph better against the garden venue you mentioned.”“That’s exactly what I said,” Sofia added, not looking up from the tablet. “She just wanted a third opinion to feel better about overruling me.”Victoria swatted at her fiancée’s arm, laughing. “I wanted validation, not an accusation.”I smiled, watching them bicker with the easy affection of two people who’d built something genuinely solid together, a far cry from the frightened, guilt-ridden women who’d first found their way into each other’s lives.“How’s the venue search going?” I asked, resting a hand against my slowly growing stomach, fourteen weeks now and finally beginning to show properly.“We