Reborn To Fall In Love With My Husband Again

The sharp, metallic scent of blood mixed with the suffocating stench of burning rubber and gasoline.

Eleanora's lungs spasmed. Every attempt to draw a breath sent a jagged spike of agony through her ribs. She forced her heavy eyelids open. A thick, warm liquid dripped from her forehead, turning her vision into a blurred, crimson nightmare.

Freezing rain lashed through the shattered windshield. The icy drops hit her face, a brutal contrast to the boiling heat radiating from the engine block.

She tried to move her legs. Nothing happened. The crushed dashboard pinned her lower half against the leather seat in a vice grip. There was no pain below her waist, only a terrifying, heavy numbness.

Footsteps.

The steady splash of leather soles hitting the rain-soaked asphalt cut through the hiss of the storm. Eleanora forced her neck to turn, the muscles screaming in protest.

A pair of immaculate, custom-made black oxfords stopped just inches from the mangled driver's side door. The pristine leather stood out against the mud, shattered glass, and the pool of her own blood spreading across the road.

Her gaze tracked upward. Justen Dorsey stood there, holding a large black umbrella. He looked down at her. His eyes were flat, completely devoid of the warmth he had shown her just hours ago.

Eleanora's hand trembled as she lifted it from the steering wheel. Her fingers, slick with blood, reached toward the hem of his tailored trousers.

"Justen..." Her voice was a wet, broken wheeze.

Justen took a half-step back. His upper lip curled into a sneer of pure disgust, ensuring her bloody fingers grasped nothing but cold air.

"Oh, look at her. She's still trying to hold on."

The voice came from behind Justen. It was soft, melodic, and dripping with a sickening amusement.

Destiny Kensington stepped out from under the black umbrella. She wore a pristine white trench coat, completely untouched by the storm. She slipped her arm through Justen's, pressing her body against his.

Eleanora's pupils dilated. Her heart hammered against her broken ribs so violently she felt she might vomit. Destiny. Her older sister. The woman she trusted more than anyone in the world.

Destiny crouched down. She reached through the jagged hole of the window. Her perfectly manicured fingers clamped onto Eleanora's blood-soaked chin, forcing her head up.

"I cut the brake lines myself, Ella," Destiny smiled, her voice barely a whisper over the rain. "It took a bit of effort, but you always drove too fast anyway."

Eleanora tried to scream. She wanted to tear Destiny's face off. But her throat only produced a wet, gurgling sound as more blood spilled over her bottom lip.

Justen checked his Rolex, looking bored. "The transfer protocol for the Kensington trust fund was initiated twenty minutes ago. The control of the trust's assets has been signed over to me, and it's completely irreversible now."

"You were such a convenient little ATM, Ella," Destiny laughed, wiping a smear of Eleanora's blood onto the ruined leather seat. "You actually believed those forged financial reports. You handed the company over. Mom and Dad died because you were too stupid to read a contract."

Regret, sharp and venomous, chewed through Eleanora's chest. Hot tears mixed with the blood on her cheeks. She had given them everything. She had fought her own family for them.

Destiny leaned in closer. Her perfume, a cloying floral scent, mingled sickeningly with the smell of gasoline, creating a nauseating mix of luxury and death.

"I have one last secret for you," Destiny whispered. "You know Heinrich Mcdowell? The fiancé you hated so much? The one you ran away from?"

Eleanora's breath hitched. Heinrich. The cold, silent man who always stood between her and the world, the man she had treated like garbage.

"He's dead," Destiny said, her eyes gleaming with malice. "He ran into the warehouse fire to save you. They didn't even find enough of him to put in a box. He burned to ash for a girl who didn't even want him."

The words hit Eleanora harder than the car crash. Her chest caved in. The sheer weight of the guilt crushed the air from her lungs. Her fingers curled inward, her broken nails digging so hard into the steering wheel that they snapped.

Heinrich died for her.

Justen sighed, wrapping his arm around Destiny's waist. "Let's go. This place is filthy."

Destiny stood up. She pulled a custom silver lighter from her pocket. She flicked it open. The small flame danced in the wind. She tossed it casually toward the rear of the car, where the fuel tank was leaking a steady stream of gasoline onto the road.

Eleanora watched them walk away, their bodies pressed together under the umbrella. The despair in her chest hardened, compressing into a hatred so dense and violent it made her vision shake.

The flame hit the gasoline. A low, heavy whoosh sucked the oxygen from the air.

The heat hit her back instantly. The fire swallowed the cabin. Her skin blistered.

In the fraction of a second before the flames consumed her entirely, Eleanora made a vow, carving it into her own soul. If there is a next life, I will tear you both apart piece by piece.

The explosion ripped through the mountain pass.

Eleanora was thrown into a spinning vortex of absolute darkness. The roar of the fire faded, instantly replaced by a sharp, rhythmic sound.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Eleanora's eyes snapped open. She gasped, sucking in a massive lungful of air. Her hands flew up automatically, crossing over her face to block the scorching flames.

There was no fire.

Instead of a crushed car roof, a crystal chandelier cast a warm, expensive glow across a pristine white ceiling.

She inhaled sharply again. The metallic stench of blood and gasoline was gone. The air smelled of clinical antiseptic and fresh lilies.

Eleanora lowered her trembling hands. She stared at her fingers. The skin was pale, smooth, and completely unblemished. There was no blood. No cracked nails. No blisters.

She threw off the heavy silk blanket. Her legs. She stared at her legs. They were whole. She wiggled her toes. The heavy, terrifying numbness was gone.

The heart monitor beside the bed began to blare a rapid, high-pitched warning as her heart rate skyrocketed.

Eleanora ripped the IV needle out of the back of her hand. A bead of dark red blood welled up on her skin, but she didn't feel the sting. She threw her legs over the side of the bed and stumbled across the thick carpet toward the full-length mirror on the wardrobe door.

She gripped the edges of the mirror. The girl staring back at her was pale and her eyes were red-rimmed, but she was young. She was flawless. There were no scars.

Her eyes darted to the nightstand. A sleek, late-model smartphone sat next to a glass of water. She lunged for it, her fingers slipping on the smooth glass before she managed to press the power button.

The screen lit up.

October 12th, 2018. Her mind raced. 2018... That was the year she turned twenty. Five years. She had gone back five years.

The phone slipped from her numb fingers. It hit the carpet with a dull thud.

Eleanora clamped both hands over her mouth. She slid down the side of the bed until her knees hit the floor. Her shoulders shook violently. A massive, suffocating wave of shock collided with an explosive surge of relief.

Five years ago. This was the day she had swallowed a handful of sleeping pills. She had done it because Destiny told her it was the only way to force their parents to cancel the prenuptial agreement with Heinrich Mcdowell.

Rapid footsteps echoed in the hallway. The heavy oak double doors of the VIP suite burst open.

A team of nurses in high-end private clinic scrubs rushed in, their eyes wide as they saw Eleanora sitting on the floor, the heart monitor still screaming.

Eleanora dropped her hands from her face. She lowered her head, letting her long, dark hair fall forward to hide the violent, murderous light in her eyes. She forced the chaotic storm in her chest down, locking it away.

The head nurse approached in a sudden panic, holding a fresh IV line. "Miss Kensington, what's wrong? Please get back in bed, your heart rate is dangerously high! We need to re-insert the line immediately."

Eleanora took a slow, deep breath. When she raised her head, her face was a mask of cold, absolute calm.

She swatted the nurse's hand away. The movement was sharp and dismissive. She grabbed the edge of the mattress and pulled herself up to her feet.

"Get out," Eleanora said. Her voice was weak from the stomach pumping, but the tone carried a heavy, crushing authority that brooked no argument.

The nurses froze.

"I don't need any medical intervention," Eleanora stated, her eyes sweeping over them like they were dust. "I want absolute silence. Leave."

The head nurse swallowed hard, clearly intimidated by the sudden, chilling shift in the usually hysterical girl's demeanor. She nodded quickly, gesturing for the others to follow. They backed out of the room and pulled the doors shut.

The silence returned. Eleanora walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window. The glittering skyline of Manhattan stretched out below her.

She looked at her own reflection in the glass. Her eyes were dead and cold. She remembered exactly what happened next in her past life. She had woken up, screamed at her parents, and thrown a glass at her brother Dalton when he tried to calm her down. She had destroyed her family's heart that day.

Her fingernails bit into the soft flesh of her palms. The sharp sting grounded her.

God had given her a second chance. She would not be the stupid, easily manipulated ATM ever again. She would take Destiny and Justen, drag them into the light, and crush them in the very high-society circles they worshipped.

But first, she had to stop the domino effect she had started. She had to stop her father from canceling the prenup.

She turned away from the window and walked to the closet. She stripped off the hospital gown, letting it pool on the floor. She pulled a Chanel tweed jacket from a hanger and slipped it on over her shoulders, buttoning it up.

She walked to the heavy metal door handle. She gripped it, her knuckles turning white, and pulled the door open to face the storm waiting outside.

Eleanora cracked the door open just an inch. The sound of hushed, strained arguing drifted down the empty VIP corridor from the waiting area.

She stopped, pressing her ear to the gap.

Her father, Richard Kensington, was pacing. She could hear the heavy thud of his shoes on the marble floor. He yanked at the knot of his custom silk tie, his chest heaving.

Victoria, her mother, sat on the leather sofa. She was pressing a silk handkerchief to her face, her shoulders shaking with quiet sobs.

"She took pills, Richard," Victoria cried, her voice cracking. "She almost died. We cannot force her to marry that Mcdowell monster. I won't let you sacrifice her happiness for a merger."

Richard let out a harsh, frustrated growl. "It is not just a merger, Vicky! It's a multi-billion dollar acquisition on Wall Street. We are bound by contracts. We can't just back out because she threw a tantrum!"

"We have enough money!" Victoria stood up, her voice rising in hysteria. "The Kensington wealth is enough for Eleanora to spend for three lifetimes! She doesn't need to be tied to a cold-blooded machine like Heinrich!"

Richard stopped pacing. He rubbed his face, looking suddenly very old. "She is spoiled rotten, Vicky. You know it and I know it. The wolves in this city will eat her alive the second we are gone. Heinrich is ruthless. He is the only man strong enough to protect her from herself and everyone else."

Behind the door, Eleanora's throat tightened. A thick knot formed, making it impossible to swallow. In her past life, she had heard this exact conversation and thought her father was a tyrant selling her for stock options. Now, she heard the desperate, heavy love of a father trying to secure his daughter's future.

Richard let out a long, defeated sigh. "Fine. I will go to Heinrich myself. I will apologize. I will pay the breach of contract penalties. We will cancel the engagement."

Victoria let out a wet gasp of relief. She wiped her eyes, turning toward the hallway to check on her daughter.

Eleanora knew that if Richard walked out of this hospital and canceled that contract, the Mcdowell family would pull their capital. It was the first domino that led to the Kensington family's bankruptcy.

She pushed the heavy double doors open. Her heels clicked sharply against the marble floor.

Richard and Victoria froze. They stared in absolute shock as their daughter, who was supposed to be bedridden and weak, walked toward them with her back straight and her chin held high.

"Ella!" Victoria gasped. She practically ran across the corridor, her arms outstretched, ready to coddle her fragile child.

Eleanora's eyes burned. She stepped forward and threw her arms around her mother's neck, burying her face in Victoria's shoulder. She breathed in the scent of her mother's expensive perfume. It was real. She was warm. She was alive.

"Mom," Eleanora whispered, her voice cracking with genuine emotion. She hugged her tighter, her fingers gripping the fabric of Victoria's dress.

Richard frowned. His jaw tightened. He assumed this was just another manipulation tactic.

"Enough of the theatrics, Eleanora," Richard said, his voice stern and uncompromising. "The show is over. I said I'm going to cancel the engagement. Now get back in that bed before you collapse."

Eleanora pulled back from her mother. She stood up straight. She looked directly into her father's eyes. There was no petulance, no anger, no tears.

"No, Dad," Eleanora said. Her voice was calm, steady, and rang clearly through the quiet corridor. "Do not cancel the prenup."

The air in the hallway instantly solidified. Victoria's hand, which had been stroking Eleanora's hair, stopped mid-air.

Richard stared at her. His eyes narrowed. "Did the stomach pumping damage your brain? What are you talking about?"

Eleanora closed the distance between them. She reached out and grabbed Richard's large, calloused hand. She squeezed it hard.

"I will fulfill the prenuptial agreement," Eleanora stated, enunciating every word. "I am going to marry Heinrich Mcdowell."

Victoria let out a short shriek. She reached out and pressed the back of her hand against Eleanora's forehead. "She's delirious. Richard, call the doctor!"

Eleanora gently pulled her mother's hand down. "I am not delirious. Brushing past death clears the mind, Mom. I was stupid. Heinrich is the best choice for me, and for this family."

Richard studied her face. He searched for the familiar signs of a lie-the shifting eyes, the pouting lip. He found nothing. He only saw a dark, bottomless maturity that sent a slight chill down his spine.

"Do you understand what you are saying?" Richard asked, his voice dropping to a low rumble. "This is a lifelong commitment. There is no backing out once the ink is dry."

The corner of Eleanora's mouth lifted into a faint, serene smile. "I have never been more awake in my entire life."

Before Richard could respond, the elevator at the far end of the hall let out a loud ding. The metal doors slid open, shattering the heavy silence.