Reborn To Ruin Her Murderous Plans

The wind biting at Elaina Velasquez's exposed skin wasn't just cold; it was a physical assault. She stood at the edge of the ornamental pond on the far side of the Boone estate, her heels sinking into the damp, freezing mud. Her body trembled, not just from the temperature, but from the vibration of pure, unadulterated fear rattling her bones.

Amanda Olsen stood three feet away. She looked immaculate. Her camel-colored cashmere coat was belted tightly at her waist, her hair perfectly coiffed despite the gale. She didn't look like a killer. She looked like the cover of a magazine.

"Why?" Elaina's voice was a jagged whisper. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold her shattering reality together. "He was an old man, Amanda. He was harmless."

Amanda tilted her head. A small, pitying smile played on her lips, the kind one might offer a slow child. "Harmless things are often in the way, Elaina. Grandpa Boone liked you. That was a problem."

Elaina felt the bile rise in her throat. The image of Cordero's grandfather, the only person in this godforsaken family who had looked at her with anything other than disdain, gasping for air as the oxygen flow was cut... it made her knees weak.

"You killed him," Elaina said, the words tasting like ash. "And you're going to pay for it. I have the logs. I know you were in his room."

Amanda took a step forward. Her expensive leather boots crunched on the gravel. "Who is going to believe you? The foster trash? The gold digger who trapped Cordero with a baby that didn't even survive?"

Elaina flinched. The mention of the miscarriage was a physical blow. Her hand went instinctively to her flat stomach. The emptiness there was a constant, aching void.

"Cordero hates you," Amanda continued, her voice smooth, conversational. "He calls you a parasite. A virus. Did you know he was with me the night you lost the baby? We were celebrating."

"Liar," Elaina spat, though tears were hot in her eyes.

"He never loved you. He sees you as a mistake he's waiting to correct." Amanda reached into her deep pocket and pulled out a thick envelope. "He signed these this morning. Divorce papers. He didn't even have the courage to give them to you himself."

Elaina stared at the envelope. It was the final nail. The end of the humiliation she called a life. She reached out, her fingers numb and clumsy. "Give it to me."

Amanda held it out, her smile widening. "Here."

Elaina stepped forward.

Amanda didn't let go of the papers. Instead, she lunged.

It happened with terrifying speed. Amanda's hands, manicured and strong, slammed into Elaina's chest. The force was unexpected. Elaina's heels slipped on the slick mud. Gravity betrayed her.

The world tilted backward.

The water hit her like a thousand knives.

It was shockingly cold. It stole the air from her lungs instantly. Elaina thrashed, her heavy wool coat soaking up the water like a sponge, dragging her down. The pond was deeper than it looked, an artificial abyss designed for aesthetics, not safety.

She broke the surface, gasping, choking on the murky water. "Help!"

Amanda stood on the bank. She watched. She didn't move. She didn't scream. She just watched, her hands tucked deep into her coat pockets, observing the ripples as if she were watching a leaf float downstream.

Elaina kicked, her legs tangling in the underwater reeds. The cold was paralyzing her muscles. Her limbs felt like lead. She went under again. This time, the water filled her nose, her throat. Her lungs burned. It was a fire inside her chest, a desperate, searing need for oxygen that wouldn't come.

Cordero.

The name flashed in her mind. His cold eyes. His turned back. The way he looked at her like she was dirt on his shoe. A memory from just yesterday-the wedding-surfaced. Amanda had "accidentally" stepped on the train of her gown as she walked down the aisle, causing her to stumble into a floral display. Everyone had laughed at her pathetic, clumsy performance.

I never fought back, she thought, the darkness closing in around the edges of her vision. I just took it. I let them win.

Her struggles weakened. The burning in her lungs faded into a terrifying numbness. The darkness wasn't just in her eyes anymore; it was wrapping around her brain, heavy and final.

She sank. The last thing she saw was the distorted, wavering shape of Amanda Olsen standing on the shore, victorious.

Then, nothing.

A jolt.

A violent, electric spasm tore through her body.

Elaina gasped, her body arching off the mattress. Her lungs expanded, sucking in greedy, desperate gulps of air. It wasn't water. It was sweet, dry, air-conditioned oxygen.

She sat up, her chest heaving, sweat drenching her hairline. Her hands clawed at her throat, expecting the choke of pond water, but finding only dry skin.

She was screaming inside, but no sound came out. She scrambled backward, her back hitting a padded headboard.

Headboard?

Elaina blinked, her vision swimming. She wasn't in the pond. She wasn't dead.

She was in a room. A large, opulent room bathed in the soft glow of bedside lamps. Red rose petals were scattered across the silk duvet cover. A massive floral arrangement forming the intertwined initials 'C & E' was propped against the far wall.

She looked at her hands. They were shaking uncontrollably. She brought them to her face.

Smooth.

She traced her cheekbone. The scar... the jagged scar she had gotten from the fire two years ago... it was gone. Her skin was unblemished.

"No," she whispered, her voice raspy. "No, this isn't real."

She turned her head to the bedside table. The digital clock glowed red in the semi-darkness.

October 14, 2019.

Elaina froze. Her breath hitched.

Five years.

She had gone back five years.

This was the night. The wedding night. The night everything started to go wrong. The night she thought she had won the lottery by marrying Cordero Boone, only to find out she had walked into a slaughterhouse.

She looked down at her body. She was wearing the red silk nightgown she had bought specifically for this night. The one Cordero had ripped off her, not in passion, but in anger, before leaving her to sleep alone.

She was alive.

The realization hit her with the force of a physical blow. Tears welled in her eyes, hot and fast. She grabbed the silk sheets, bunching them in her fists, grounding herself in the texture.

I'm alive.

And she remembered. She remembered the freezing water. She remembered Amanda's face. She remembered every insult, every slap, every cold shoulder from Cordero.

The handle of the bathroom door turned.

The sound was loud in the silent room. The metallic click echoed like a gunshot.

Elaina's head snapped up. Her heart hammered against her ribs, terrifyingly fast. Someone was in there.

She knew exactly who it was.