All Chapters of Killed Me? Watch Me Get Reborn And Marry Your Enemy!: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Nicholas' POVI stood outside the heavy mahogany doors of my father's private study, my hand frozen over the brass knob.From inside, his voice was tight, strained with a frantic edge I had never heard from him in my entire life.I couldn't help but lean closer, listening to the bitter reality of our impending ruin."You don't understand, Nicholas!" my father roared, slamming his fist onto his desk so hard the wood groaned. "The audits are turning up nothing but red tape. The investors are pulling out one by one after that disaster at the gala. Our company is going to crumble, and it's going to happen soon if we don't fix this!""Father—" I tried to interject, but he cut me off instantly."No, you listen to me! You are going to marry Erina next week. You have no other choice!" he hissed, his breathing ragged. "Think about it logically. Erina is Abby's sister. She is backed entirely by the Sinclair-Hayes empire. Did you see the transaction history she just flaunted? She has twenty mill

Abby's POVThe reception was in full swing, the grand ballroom of the hotel alive with the clinking of crystal glasses, smooth jazz, and the loud, superficial laughter of high society.I leaned against a marble pillar, taking a slow sip of my champagne as I watched the room.My eyes drifted toward the far corner of the ballroom, landing right on the head table. Erina was sitting there completely by herself.She looked absolutely miserable. The heavy, choking lace collar of the traditional Anderson dress was still dug deep into her neck, and without the distraction of the ceremony, the sheer discomfort was written all over her face.She kept shifting in her seat, trying to catch her breath, her eyes scanning the crowd with a desperate, pathetic longing.Meanwhile, her brand-new husband was all the way across the room at the grand bar, surrounded by a group of his wealthy fraternity friends and business associates.He hadn't looked back

Abby's POVLater that night, I was back at my manor, unwinding in the quiet luxury of my bedroom, while Matteo had returned to his own place.The house was entirely peaceful until my phone suddenly lit up with his name.I picked it up, and the moment the call connected, his usually deep, commanding voice came through as a weak, trembling whisper."You're right," he muttered, teeth visibly chattering on the other end of the line. "Are you a psychic or something? I have a fever now... 39 degrees. I think I'm going to the hospital, Abby. I'm freezing so bad! Do you... do you think I'm gonna die?"A warm, genuine laugh escaped my lips. Seeing this ruthless, terrifying syndicate boss completely brought to his knees by a standard case of the chills was incredibly endearing."No, you're not going to die," I said softly, a teasing smile playing on my lips. "You—""Meet me at the hospital," he interrupted, his voice desperate and complet

Abby's POVThree days later, the trap didn't just snap shut; it started tearing flesh.It was Tuesday afternoon—the exact week the original timeline had designated for Matteo's catastrophic accident.Matteo sat completely rigid on the edge of the leather sofa, his dark eyes locked onto the giant television screen mounted on the wall.He was watching the live rolling news coverage of the coastal highway traffic cameras like his entire life depended on it.Because it did.While he stared at his avoided fate, my phone vibrated in my palm.I slid the answer bar, bringing the receiver to my ear.Immediately, the high-pitched voice of my stepmother, Josefina, pierced the silence of the room."Abigail? Oh, thank goodness you picked up," Josefina practically wept into the line, her voice trembling with an embarrassing mixture of panic and wounded pride. "Listen, sweetheart... about the family dinner tonight at the manor. W

Erina's POVThe master bedroom of the Anderson manor was the size of a penthouse apartment, draped in imported silk and gold accents, but as I sat alone on the edge of the massive king-sized bed, it felt like a freezing, empty tomb.I wiped roughly at my cheeks, my expensive mascara smearing across my fingers. I was supposed to be happy.I had won.I had worn the grand traditional dress, I had walked down the aisle, and I had taken Abigail's perfect billionaire groom right out from under her.So why am I the one crying? I thought bitterly, staring at my reflection in the vanity mirror. My eyes were red and swollen.It had been four days since the wedding, and I was still sleeping alone.There had been no romantic honeymoon flights to Paris, no candlelit dinners, no passionate nights.The moment the reception ended, Nicholas had practically dropped me off at the front door like a piece of unwanted luggage and disappeared.