Reborn From Ashes: Loving My Ruthless Husband

The blistering heat peeled the skin from her bones.

Scarlett Sinclair choked on thick, black smoke, her lungs screaming for oxygen that no longer existed in the abandoned warehouse.

Flames roared like starving beasts, devouring the wooden crates around her.

Through the deafening crackle of the fire, Celeste's mocking laughter echoed in her fading consciousness.

"You really thought he loved you, Scarlett? You were just the key to the Sinclair vault."

The ultimate betrayal tasted like ash and copper on her tongue.

Then, a figure tore through the wall of fire.

It was Damian Blackwood.

His immaculate, bespoke charcoal suit was catching fire, the expensive fabric melting into his skin.

He didn't care. He was screaming her name, the sound tearing his throat apart.

Damian violently shoved a burning steel pillar out of the way, his bare hands sizzling against the scorching metal.

He reached her just as the ceiling groaned above them.

He threw his massive body over hers, shielding her completely.

A heavy, flaming beam crashed down directly onto his back.

Damian's body jerked violently.

Hot, thick blood dripped from his mouth, splashing onto Scarlett's soot-covered cheek.

She realized it then. The insane, terrifying, deeply hidden love this man harbored for her.

She reached out a trembling hand, her fingers brushing against his ruined, bloodied face.

"I will always protect you," Damian whispered, his voice a broken rasp against her ear.

His weight collapsed fully against her.

Her vision went completely black as the rest of the warehouse caved in.

A sudden, violent rush of freezing air hit her lungs.

Scarlett gasped, her back arching off the mattress as if she had been struck by lightning.

Her eyes snapped open.

She wasn't staring at a burning ceiling. She was staring at the massive, familiar crystal chandelier of the Blackwood Manor penthouse master suite.

Her hands flew to her face, her fingers frantically tracing her cheeks, her jaw, her neck.

There were no burns. No peeling skin. Only a layer of freezing sweat.

Her chest heaved, her heart hammering against her ribs so hard it bruised.

She turned her head.

The digital clock on the mahogany nightstand glowed in the dark.

The date displayed was exactly three years in the past.

Scarlett scrambled out of the massive king-sized bed, her legs tangling in the heavy silk sheets.

Her knees hit the cold marble floor with a sharp crack, but she didn't feel the pain.

She dragged herself up, rushing to the floor-to-ceiling vanity mirror.

She stared at her reflection.

Her face was younger. Unscarred. Her eyes were wide with a terror that belonged to a ghost.

A profound, physical wave of realization slammed into her stomach.

She had been miraculously reborn.

She gripped the sharp edge of the marble vanity, her knuckles turning bone-white.

She breathed heavily, the cold air burning her throat.

Tears of absolute, crushing regret welled up in her eyes, spilling over her lashes and dripping onto the marble.

The memories of her past life's foolishness crashed into her.

She remembered how she fought him, how she drugged him, how she leaked his company's secrets just to escape.

And she remembered Damian's tragic, bloody sacrifice in the flames.

She aggressively wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand.

Her expression shifted. The sorrow evaporated, replaced by a cold, absolute determination. The tears were not for her own death, but for his. And that debt, she realized with chilling clarity, could only be repaid in blood and ruin for their enemies.

She vowed silently, her nails digging into her palms until they bled.

She would protect Damian this time.

And she would utterly, mercilessly destroy Celeste and Chase.

A soft buzz vibrated against the wood of the velvet chaise lounge behind her.

Scarlett turned her head slowly.

She walked over, her bare feet silent on the thick Persian rug.

She picked up the phone, her fingers steadying.

A text message lit up the bright screen.

It was from Chase Vanderbilt Jr.

"I'm waiting by the rose maze. Hurry. The car is ready."

Scarlett's grip on the phone tightened until the glass screen protector cracked under her thumb.

She remembered this exact night.

This was the night she was supposed to elope with him.

The night that was actually a trap set by Celeste to ruin her reputation permanently.

A cold, calculating smirk replaced her previous tears.

Scarlett pressed the screen and deleted the message permanently.

She walked over to the massive walk-in closet.

She completely bypassed the dark, practical clothes she had prepared for the escape.

Instead, her fingers brushed against a delicate, white silk nightgown.

It was thin, clinging, and made her look incredibly fragile and innocent.

She stripped off her pajamas and slipped into the silk nightgown.

She deliberately ran her fingers through her hair, messing it up to look as though she had just rolled out of a restless sleep.

She was preparing to turn the trap entirely against Chase.

She turned toward the heavy oak door of the bedroom.

Scarlett stepped out of her bedroom barefoot.

The freezing marble floor of the penthouse hallway grounded her racing thoughts, sending sharp jolts of clarity up her spine.

She walked silently down the grand staircase, her hand gliding over the polished mahogany banister.

She knew the patrol routes. She knew exactly where the blind spots were.

She spotted two heavily armed guards near the east wing, their flashlights cutting through the dark.

Scarlett deliberately turned and slipped into the shadow-covered servant's corridor.

The air here smelled of lemon polish and old wood.

She reached the end of the hall and pushed open the heavy glass doors leading out to the expansive rose maze.

The cool night wind hit her instantly.

The thin silk nightgown clung tightly to her body, outlining her figure and offering zero protection against the chill.

She navigated the towering, manicured hedges, her bare feet crunching softly against the gravel.

Her eyes scanned the suffocating darkness, searching for her target.

A sudden rustling sound came from the center of the maze.

Scarlett stopped, her muscles tensing.

Chase stepped out from the shadows of a large stone fountain.

He was wearing a black hoodie, his hands shoved into his pockets, looking highly impatient.

He spotted Scarlett and his face broke into a relieved, smug smile.

He stepped forward rapidly, reaching out to grab her arm.

"Finally. What took you so long?"

Scarlett suppressed a violent wave of bile rising in her throat.

She swiftly took a step back, letting his hand grasp empty air.

Chase frowned in confusion, his hand dropping to his side.

He asked in a hushed, irritated whisper, "Why aren't you wearing your coat? Where is your bag?"

Scarlett stared at his handsome, deceitful face.

She saw the face of the man who had locked the warehouse door from the outside and left her to burn.

She took a slow, deep breath, her eyes darting slightly to the left.

She calculated the exact distance to the nearest security camera mounted on the stone wall.

She positioned herself perfectly within the camera's blind spot.

But she made sure she was within clear earshot of the third-floor main balcony.

Damian's balcony.

Chase stepped closer, his patience wearing thin.

He reached out with both arms, trying to pull her into a forced hug to hurry her along.

"Come on, Scarlett, stop playing around. We need to go."

Scarlett opened her mouth.

She let out a piercing, blood-curdling scream.

The sound shattered the dead silence of the estate, echoing violently off the stone walls.

Chase froze in absolute shock.

His hands hovered awkwardly in the air, his eyes wide with disbelief.

He frantically lunged forward, trying to clamp his hand over her mouth.

"Shut up! Are you crazy?" he hissed angrily, panic setting into his features.

Scarlett dodged his hand aggressively, throwing her weight backward.

She screamed even louder, her voice tearing through the night, yelling for help.

High above them, the lights instantly flicked on in the third-floor master suite.

Damian had been alerted.

Chase looked up at the sudden burst of light, his face draining of all color.

He panicked completely.

He turned around, his expensive sneakers slipping on the gravel as he tried to run toward the outer gate to save himself.

Scarlett refused to let him escape. Not this time.

Her eyes flashed with a dark, venomous vengeance.

She lunged forward, her fingers hooking into the thick fabric at the back of his hoodie.

She gripped it with a surprisingly strong, desperate force.

Chase stumbled backward, choking as the collar of the hoodie dug into his windpipe.

He cursed under his breath, losing his balance completely.

Scarlett used his own backward momentum against him, pulling him further off balance.

She planted her bare left foot firmly into the gravel.

She raised her right knee, gathering all her physical strength and three years of pent-up hatred.

She drove her knee brutally upwards.

The strike landed directly and devastatingly into his groin.

A sickening, muffled crunch echoed in the quiet garden.

It was followed immediately by Chase's high-pitched, inhuman howl of sheer agony.

Chase collapsed onto the gravel path like a puppet with its strings cut.

He curled into a tight, trembling ball, his hands clutching himself as he gasped uselessly for air.

Scarlett stood over him, her chest heaving, her bare feet bleeding slightly from the sharp stones.

Then, the sound of heavy, urgent footsteps approached rapidly from the terrace above.

The heavy iron gates of the garden rattled.

Damian was coming.

Scarlett immediately dropped to the cold gravel next to a thorny rose bush.

She wrapped her arms tightly around her knees, curling herself into a small, defenseless ball.

She forced her body to tremble violently, biting the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood.

Tears of manufactured terror streamed down her pale face, soaking into the thin silk of her nightgown.

The heavy garden gates burst open with a deafening crash.

Damian tore through the entrance.

His face was deathly pale, his jaw locked so tight the muscles twitched.

His dark eyes blazed with a murderous, unhinged rage that seemed to suck the oxygen out of the air.

Elias Vance, his head of security, followed closely behind with a dozen heavily armed bodyguards.

Damian's frantic gaze swept the area and locked onto Scarlett on the ground.

He rushed to her, his expensive leather shoes crushing the roses in his path.

He dropped heavily to his knees beside her, the sharp gravel biting into his suit pants.

He reached out to touch her shoulder, but his large hands stopped inches away.

His fingers were shaking violently. He was terrified that touching her would break her.

Scarlett looked up through her wet lashes.

Her eyes were wide with perfect, calculated fear.

She suddenly uncurled her body and threw herself directly into Damian's broad chest.

Damian's entire body went rigid.

He turned to solid stone in absolute shock at her unexpected, voluntary embrace.

For a second, he forgot how to breathe.

Then, very slowly, as if handling a bomb, he wrapped his arms around her trembling frame.

He held her tightly, pulling her into the warmth of his body.

His heart pounded against his ribs, the heavy thuds vibrating against Scarlett's cheek.

Scarlett buried her face deep into his dark shirt, inhaling his sharp cedarwood scent.

She sobbed loudly, her voice muffled against his chest.

"He... he tried to grab me. A strange man. He tried to hurt me."

Damian's gaze snapped away from her hair and locked onto Chase.

Chase was still writhing on the gravel, groaning in pathetic, breathless agony.

Damian's aura turned instantly lethal.

The air around him seemed to drop several degrees, freezing the blood of everyone present.

Elias stepped forward, his face completely devoid of emotion.

He clicked a heavy tactical flashlight on, shining the blinding beam directly onto Chase's sweating, pale face.

Elias stared at the man on the ground, his eyes narrowing.

"Sir. The intruder is Chase Vanderbilt Jr."

Damian looked down at the woman shivering in his arms.

He asked softly, his voice a dangerous, quiet rumble, "Do you know this man, Scarlett?"

Scarlett shook her head frantically, rubbing her tears into his expensive shirt.

"No! I've never seen him before! He's a disgusting monster! Make him go away!"

Chase heard her words through the ringing in his ears.

He forced his eyes open against the blinding light, trying to speak.

"Scar... Scarlett... what are you..." he gasped out, trying to expose their elopement plan.

Before Chase could finish his sentence, Scarlett screamed again.

She buried her head deeper into Damian's coat, covering her ears with her hands.

"Make him stop talking! Please!" she begged, her voice trembling with perfect vulnerability.

Damian stared at her weeping face. His mind, razor-sharp and trained to detect the slightest deceit, screamed that she was lying. He knew her history with Vanderbilt. But as he felt her trembling violently against his chest, a darker, more desperate part of his soul took over. A trap? A lie? He found he didn't care. If she was using him as a shield, then he would gladly be her shield.

He gently moved her hands away and covered her ears with his own large, warm palms.

He pressed her head firmly against his chest, physically blocking out the world.

Damian looked up at Elias.

His eyes were dead, his voice devoid of any human emotion as he gave a chilling order.

"Ruin him. Make sure he never has the physical capability to harm a woman again."

Chase's eyes widened in absolute, primal horror.

He realized what Damian meant.

"No! Wait! Blackwood, you don't understand-" Chase began to beg, thrashing wildly on the ground.

Elias nodded coldly.

He gestured for two massive bodyguards to step forward.

They grabbed Chase by the armpits, dragging him roughly toward the basement entrance.

Chase screamed Scarlett's name, his voice cracking in desperation.

Elias casually pulled a dirty cloth from his pocket and swiftly shoved it into Chase's mouth, gagging him completely.

The bodyguards hauled the struggling, muffled Chase away into the darkness.

His fate was permanently sealed.

Damian slowly removed his hands from Scarlett's ears.

He looked down at her, his dark eyes filled with an intense, conflicted devotion.

Scarlett looked up at him, her tear-filled eyes reflecting only absolute trust and reliance.

Damian didn't say a word.

He effortlessly scooped her up into his arms, lifting her off the cold ground. As he did, his sharp eyes caught the dark smears of blood on the pale soles of her bare feet. A new, terrifying wave of murderous fury washed over him, his jaw tightening so hard it ached. He would make Vanderbilt pay for every single drop of her blood.

He held her tightly against his chest, carrying her bridal style back toward the mansion.