Rebirth And Redemption: Loving The Devil Everyone Tried To Escape

"Mr. Reynolds, your grandmother insists that no matter what happens, we must ensure the children Ms. Dixon is carrying are safe."

A rough, calloused fingertip grazed Lilliana Dixon's arm, icy enough to jolt through her haze.

Her thoughts felt sluggish, tangled, but the chill made her snap back.

The children?

What on earth were they talking about?

Her mind spun as blurry fragments tumbled together.

Then a man's voice, cold as steel, cut through the fog. "What if I don't want the children?"

The words reverberated in Lilliana's skull until, with a sharp gasp, she lurched awake.

The blade in her dream seemed to slice through her, dragging her violently back to reality. Cold sweat clung to her temples as she pressed a trembling hand to her faintly rounded belly, her eyes wide with disbelief.

From above her came a low, resonant voice. "You're awake?"

Lilliana's lashes fluttered as she slowly lifted her head, staring straight into a pair of fathomless eyes.

"Well played, Ms. Dixon. You nearly fooled me into marriage."

The man's fingertip pressed against her faintly rounded belly, sliding down in a deliberate motion. His lips curved into a mocking smile. "But if the children were to disappear..."

His tone was almost casual, yet the icy threat beneath it made Lilliana's blood run cold.

She shrank back against the pillow, clutching the sheet so tightly her knuckles whitened. Confusion swirled in her gaze, but dread sank deep into her chest.

Caleb Reynolds.

The name struck like a bell. The heir to the powerful Reynolds family-the man who was supposed to be the father of her children.

What the hell was he doing here?

Hadn't she already died?

Her pulse pounded in her ears as she scanned the all-too-familiar surroundings.

The realization hit with dizzying force. She hadn't died after all.

She had returned to three years ago, when she was pregnant.

Three years ago, fate had thrown her into Caleb's arms for a single night that changed everything.

That encounter left her carrying his twins, and when Mary Reynolds-Caleb's formidable grandmother-found out about it, she immediately pressured him to bring Lilliana home and marry her. Caleb, however, mistook it all as part of a scheme and resented her ever since.

This was the second time she had met Caleb.

Lilliana couldn't decide if she was trapped in a vicious dream.

Instinctively, she wrapped an arm protectively around her belly, her whole body trembling. "You won't," she said. "Because I'm carrying your children."

Though weak, her words were resolute.

Deep down, she trusted that Caleb would never harm their babies.

Even though he always mistakenly thought she had schemed against him, he had never laid a finger on the children.

Caleb's gaze grew shadowed as he listened, each hushed word from her lips striking him with perfect clarity.

Delicate features made her look almost ethereal, yet they awakened something dark inside him.

"My children?" His eyes swept over her belly with a sneer. "What makes you think I'd give a damn?"

A shiver rippled through Lilliana as she met his cold, unyielding stare.

Caleb's reputation preceded him-merciless, unfeeling, even toward his own family.

His striking features were nearly as notorious as his chilling indifference.

He carried the reputation of a legendary playboy, wielding power like a weapon. Women flocked to his side, yet the whispers all agreed-love was never part of his vocabulary, only lust and fleeting affairs.

Worse, he was said to have been so cold-blooded he had even had his own father thrown in prison.

For someone like him, nothing was sacred.

His hand slid lower, fingers circling Lilliana's tender neck with just enough pressure to make her breath hitch.

Lilliana's complexion turned ghostly pale, dread knotting in her chest.

For a terrifying moment, she thought she would be killed once again.

Then, the shrill ring of a phone shattered the stifling silence.

Caleb pressed the green button, his expression dark and unreadable as Mary's lively voice floated through the speaker.

"Cale, don't forget to bring your future wife home so I can meet her. I heard she's carrying boy and girl twins. Our family hasn't had more than one child per generation in decades. Don't even think about doing something foolish, and never make Lilliana suffer."

That oppressive weight hanging between Caleb and Lilliana finally loosened.

A frigid calm settled over Caleb's face, his look distant, impossible to decipher.

He ended the call without a word.

After studying Lilliana for several long seconds, he finally let go of her. His palm brushed against her cheek in a strangely tender caress, though his eyes glinted with a warning.

"When those babies are born," he said softly, voice edged like a blade. "You and I will finish what we started."

Caleb's fingertip skimmed across Lilliana's cheek, the delicate brush jolting her from the haze that had wrapped around her mind.

This wasn't a dream. Everything unfolding before her was terrifyingly real.

She had returned to three years ago, when both her babies were still alive and she and Caleb had yet to get married.

A subtle tremor ran through the hand resting on her belly, her vision blurring with unshed tears.

Terror and despair ebbed away, replaced by fragile, overwhelming relief.

Her children were still here.

Alina Dixon, her cousin, hadn't managed to strip her of everything just yet.

The humiliation Alina orchestrated had not struck, and the divorce from Caleb had yet to happen.

Caleb's eyes lingered on Lilliana's face for a beat before he turned away, his tone unreadable. "Pack up your things. I'll arrange for the driver to bring you to Reynolds Manor. My grandmother has demanded your presence."

...

Half an hour later, the car eased to a stop in front of an expansive manor, its stately columns and sweeping roofline radiating an air of quiet power and old money.

Lilliana stepped out, following the driver into the sprawling living room, her footsteps swallowed by the thick carpet.

Caleb didn't accompany her; instead, he had given the order for her to be dropped off at Reynolds Manor before heading off elsewhere.

Mary's gaze immediately landed on Lilliana's slightly rounded belly, and her face broke into delighted surprise.

"Twins at last! Our family has never had such a blessing. Now, the Reynolds name can finally carry on!"

She clasped Lilliana's hands with unrestrained excitement. "Lilliana, why don't you and Caleb get married in the city hall first in a few days? The wedding celebration can wait until after the babies arrive..."

Before the warmth of her words could settle, Jolie Reynolds, Caleb's mother, cut in sharply, "Mary, Lilliana's nothing but an orphan. Is that really the kind of woman Caleb should marry? She's got no parents and can't hear out of her left ear-who's to say her children won't end up the same? Does she really think giving Caleb heirs is her ticket to climbing the social ladder?"

Lilliana's lashes fluttered at the sound of those all-too-familiar words.

During her previous life, Jolie never stopped dragging her down, painting her as nothing but a scheming, money-grubbing bitch.

Young and without a single person to shield her, she had shrunk into herself, becoming more timid with every passing day.

"Mrs. Jolie Reynolds." Lilliana steadied her breathing and lifted her gaze. "I may have lost the hearing in one ear, but my children won't be born with that burden. If it offends you so much, then your family should draft a disownment letter. I'll raise these babies on my own, and from then on, they'll have nothing to do with your family."

Her steady words made Jolie's face harden, the color draining from her cheeks.

Mary's tone turned sharp as she snapped, "If you can't speak like a decent human being, then shut your damn mouth. Lilliana is a fine young woman, and her children will be no exception."

Jolie's face darkened, but she kept her head down and swallowed her retort.

Mary's features softened as she turned back to Lilliana with a warm smile. "Lilliana, what do you think about getting married soon?"

Lilliana's fingers hesitated over her abdomen, her thoughts clouding.

Her marriage to Caleb had never brought her peace.

He remained distant and unrestrained, his wild streak unbroken despite the marriage.

Outside of the children and their monthly, mechanical intimacy, he kept her at arm's length, his warmth forever out of reach.

Later came the whispers of his supposed admiration for Xenia Miller, which only deepened the frost between them.

But when she thought of her two unborn children, her resolve hardened. The Dixon family had tormented her mother all her life, and now they sought to make her suffer as well.

Her mother's cherished belongings were still in their clutches.

Only the Reynolds family had the power to shield her now.

Moreover, her two children...

Haunted by Xenia and Alina's scheme to end her children's lives, Lilliana dropped her gaze, her chest tight with grief.

They didn't just want to end her marriage to Caleb; they wanted to erase her children's places in the Reynolds family altogether.

She wasn't about to let those bitches get what they wanted.

Whatever Xenia had once meant to Caleb, she only cared about carving out a future where she and her children could survive.

When she raised her head again, her face had lost its color, but her voice was steady as she said, "I'll leave it in your hands."

Mary seemed more than satisfied with Lilliana.

Family background had never mattered much to her, but the woman carrying her future great-grandchildren had to be steady and unyielding.

A timid woman would have been a bitter disappointment.

Thankfully, Lilliana carried herself with quiet grace and an effortless confidence that belied her humble origins.

Before long, a servant appeared to guide Lilliana to a guest room.

Once the door clicked shut, Lilliana stood still, letting her gaze sweep over the room that stirred faint echoes of the past.

By coincidence, the television was tuned to a preview for the Dixon family's upcoming auction.

Her eyes locked onto the familiar collection of antiques on the screen. Her fingers curled tight against her palm, nails biting into skin as if to keep herself anchored.

Suddenly, the acrid memory of a fire surged back-the crackle of burning wood, the sting of smoke, and the choking scent of cremains filling her lungs.

In her previous life, she had spent years in the dark, never knowing the Dixon family had stolen her mother's belongings. She only learned the truth from Alina when she was already staring death in the face.

This time, she vowed to reclaim everything that had been taken from her.

As she mulled over her thoughts, her phone buzzed with an incoming message.

"Lilliana, someone said Caleb dragged you off. What's happening? Where are you right now?"

The message came from Sylvia Clayton, her long-time friend.

Their mothers had been inseparable, and Sylvia had always looked out for her.

Ever since Lilliana's pregnancy became known, Sylvia had worried constantly about her safety.

Seeing Sylvia's name stirred a faint ache in Lilliana's chest. Her eyes softened as she typed back, "I'm safe. The man I was with that night was Caleb. All the Reynolds family cares about is that I marry him and deliver the babies I'm carrying."

Sylvia froze for a beat, as if the pieces had just clicked into place.

That night had been a cruel twist of fate-one drugged, the other walking into the wrong room.

By the time they hunted for the culprit, the trail had already gone cold.

Who would have guessed the man Lilliana had slept with was Caleb?

A conflicted look crossed Sylvia's face, a strange mix of relief and worry. "If the Dixons catch wind of this, they won't take it well," she warned softly. "And Caleb... he's got a reputation for being cold and impossible to predict. People say there's someone he loves deeply. So what's your plan?"

In that former life, every thread tying Lilliana and Caleb together was stiff and icy.

It no longer mattered to her who he loved.

All she needed were three years-just long enough to get back her mother's things-then she would walk away, children in tow, with Caleb's alimony in her pocket.

But one thing was non-negotiable: anyone who had ever harmed her children would never come near them again. Especially not Xenia.

"Sylvia," she said, her tone suddenly steely. "I need you to help me with something."

Sylvia blinked, caught off guard. "What are you planning to do?"

Lilliana dropped her gaze, a faint shadow crossing her face. "I've got to keep him hooked, no matter what."

She didn't care if Caleb ever loved her, but she wanted him to cherish their children.

Every one of Xenia's plots had to end in failure.

She would secure her place as Caleb's lawful wife and drag the Dixon family through hell until their dues were repaid.

...

Outside, rain pattered softly, wrapping the night in a muted, intimate hush.

Inside a club, the air reeked of liquor, mingled with the wet sound of kisses, and the entire place throbbed with a decadent, almost sinful heat.

In the shadowed corner of a private room, Caleb sprawled across the sofa, a silver ring glinting on his finger as he idly rolled a glass between his fingers. His shirt hung loosely where it met his belt, offering a glimpse of his toned waist that added to his lazy magnetism.

But the sharp gleam in his eyes cut through the air, an unspoken warning that kept most onlookers at bay.

No one dared break the invisible boundary-until a woman in a scarlet, plunging dress glided toward him. With a practiced sway, she perched herself on his lap and offered a playful smile.

"Mr. Reynolds," she purred, raising her glass, "you look far too serious. Let me cheer you up."

Caleb's gaze lifted, catching the soft arch of her eyes. At first, his expression seemed almost tender, coaxing, but the illusion shattered under closer scrutiny.

Caleb's hand shot up, closing firmly around her wrist.

His voice dropped to a velvety murmur, teasing and dangerous. "Behave yourself. Stop trying to throw yourself at me."

The flirtation drained from the woman's face. She gave a coy pout, but when his glacial stare met hers, fear sliced through her composure.

Then, a snake slowly wound itself around her gown.

Her breath hitched, and a startled cry escaped before her knees buckled, sending her stumbling from his lap.