Reborn to Divorce: The Cold CEO's Reluctant Wife

The sky was pitch-black, thick as spilled ink, with thunder cracking like gunfire overhead. Lightning slashed across the heavens in jagged streaks, and the storm rolled in heavy and fast-rain hammering down in sheets, wind howling like it had a score to settle. It was the kind of night that made your skin crawl.

Deep in the woods, search dogs barked wildly, their howls echoing through the trees. Flashlights cut through the darkness like spotlights on a manhunt. Amid the chaos, a voice shouted, sharp and urgent- "Found her! We've got Mrs. Evans!"

All the lights swung in the same direction. There, curled up under some bushes, was a woman-disheveled and dirt-streaked, yet impossibly beautiful. One of her shoes was missing, the other barely hanging on. Her bag was torn open, its contents-papers, ID, random things-scattered everywhere.

The sudden brightness made her wince. She lifted a scratched-up hand to shield her face, fingers shaking.

Not far off, the sharp sound of leather shoes against gravel cut through the noise. The dogs instantly fell silent, dropping to their haunches as if someone had flipped a switch.

A tall man pushed aside the branches and stepped into view. He wore a tailored black suit, the fit flawless on his lean frame. His face was cold and sharp, with a quiet sort of dominance. His eyes were deep and dark, like something that could drown you.

Cassian Bennett stopped right in front of her. His shadow swallowed her whole.

He bent down, picked up a plane ticket with two fingers, and said in a calm but ice-cold voice, "Tell me his name, and I might let you live."

Sabrina Evans sat frozen on the ground, her face tight with fear and despair. But she clenched her jaw and said nothing.

Cassian frowned, eyes narrowing slightly, then tore the ticket right down the middle. His voice stayed flat: "Take her back. Deal with her-our way."

The butler inhaled sharply before bowing slightly. "Yes, sir."

*****

At the Bennetts' mansion on the hillside, every room blazed with light. They were supposed to be hosting a lively gathering tonight. But right now, all those finely dressed family members stood around quietly, faces grim and stiff.

In the side hall, every lash echoed like a warning-brutal, unrelenting, and impossible to ignore.

"Hit her! Don't hold back!" Matilda Bennett shouted, her elegant outfit doing nothing to soften her furious expression. Her palm slammed onto the table. "Shameless little tramp! Might as well be dead!"

It was supposed to be a joyful evening-her seventieth birthday. The whole Bennett household had been busy preparing the party, everyone gathered to celebrate. No one had expected that, in the middle of the chaos, Sabrina would try to run off with another man. If she hadn't been caught in time, who knew where she'd be by now?

The Bennetts were wealthy and influential, and their eldest grandson, Cassian, was the dream man for a sea of women-handsome, brilliant, untouchable. That Sabrina, lucky enough to be called his wife, had the nerve to cheat? The thought alone made Matilda's blood boil. She wanted nothing more than to slap her herself. What made it worse was that even after being caught, Sabrina refused to spill the guy's identity. Tight-lipped like a rock.

At Matilda's command, the punishment in the side hall grew more brutal. It was clear Sabrina wouldn't walk away from this. Everyone in the house knew it and kept their heads down, quietly agreeing on one thing-this mess wasn't theirs to fix.

Soon, all eyes drifted to Cassian, who had stayed silent from the moment he dragged Sabrina back. For most men, a cheating wife would be unbearable. But Cassian? He sat there stoically, as though he were just a bystander.

No anger. No embarrassment. No heartbreak. Even as Sabrina took hit after hit, skin torn and bleeding, he didn't so much as blink. No satisfaction, no pity.

Like a statue, he sat upright. Those deep eyes of his were calm, emotionless. As if none of this had anything to do with him.

The tension lingered like fog in the room.

"Aah!"

A piercing, desperate scream rang out from the side hall-so raw it sounded like it tore from the very depths of her soul.

Then-nothing. Not a single sound followed.

The silence that came after was even more chilling. Everyone froze. Even Matilda flinched, stunned, her hand knocking over the cut-glass fruit dish beside her.

It hit the floor with a sharp crash, shattering into pieces. A scatter of pomegranate seeds burst across the marble -

bright red, glistening like blood.

"M-Madam..." the butler rushed in from the side hall, his voice shaky. "Mrs. Evans... she, she's dead..."

Screams followed. The whole house erupted into chaos.

Everyone-except Cassian.

His face remained cold as ever, but his hands... clenched, knuckles white, the faintest tremor betraying the storm under the surface.

The rain kept drizzling, and the nonstop gloomy weather just screamed that autumn had officially taken over. Even the entire Bennett estate seemed weighed down by the bone-chilling damp.

"Seriously, dragging on like half-dead is such a pain. Someone like her should've just stayed dead," Jane muttered, scowling as they reached the bedroom door.

Ida wasn't having it either. "What can we do? Some people are just too stubborn to die. But that night was creepy-didn't the doctor say her heart had already stopped?"

As they spoke, they pushed open the door. It was a cramped, tiny room, probably under ten square meters, with a narrow single bed covered in dirty, crumpled blankets. The whole space reeked with mold from disuse, cold and damp.

They were both startled to find the bed empty. Then, as they looked up, they spotted a figure by the window-and let out a startled yelp.

The room was dim. She stood there, motionless, a slender figure lost in thought. The gold bracelet on her wrist hung looser than it should.

Her jet-black hair spilled over her shoulders like silk, framing a pale, delicate face-sharp features drained of colour, eyes like misted glass, wide and unreadable.

She looked like a painting left too long in the cold-faded, fragile, and not quite real.

The sound of the maids snapped her out of her daze. Slowly, she turned around-her gaze piercing, detached, eerily calm.

A chill ran down the maids' spines, and they both shuddered.

Still rattled, Jane snapped and slammed a plate of leftover food on the table. "So you're finally awake, huh? You've been lying there like a queen for a month while we've been running around for you. Well, guess what? The easy life's over starting now! Get up and get to work!"

Ida chimed in with a sneer. "What are you standing there for? Didn't you hear? You're lower than low in the Bennett house now. After what you did, heck, you should've stayed dead-it would've spared us the trouble. Alive? What a joke. Your life's about to get worse than hell."

The two of them took turns lashing out with their words, but Sabrina didn't react. Her eyes locked onto the food like nothing else existed. She was beyond hungry. Stumbling forward, she reached out to grab it-but then Ida rolled her eyes and swept the plate off the table.

Still, Sabrina said nothing. She dropped to the ground, scooped the food straight off the floor, and started shoving it into her mouth with both hands-eating like it was the only thing that mattered.

Jane clicked her tongue in disgust. "Unbelievable. You used to be Mrs. Bennett, and now look at you-crawling on the floor like a stray. You ran off with some guy, and what'd that get you? The guy bailed, and you're nothing but trash to Mr. Bennett now."

The cold food hurt going down, but at least it filled her belly. That alone let Sabrina feel something solid-something real. She had just enough strength to start thinking again.

Mrs. Bennett? Ran off with some random guy? Beaten half to death?

She forced herself to recall what the maids had said, trying to piece together the fragments-but her head was just a swirling mess. She couldn't even remember her own name. It was all blank.

Seeing her just stand there stunned, Ida walked over and kicked the empty plate. "What, suddenly deaf? I said clean all the floors and furniture in the living room-no sleep till it's done!"

The shouting only made her head pound harder. Pressing her fingers against her temples, Sabrina shot them a glare, her sharp gaze cutting through the darkness.

Outside, the mist clung to the windows, and she looked more like a ghost than anything living-pale, hollow, and still.

The memory of her coming back from the dead clearly flashed through their minds. Uneasy, both maids felt a new chill creeping up their spine.

"You don't wanna work? Fine. Get beaten again-your choice!"

"Yeah, go ahead and ruin yourself, but don't come crying to us."

And with that, both women scurried out.

The room was thick with damp air, hard to even breathe in. Sabrina pushed open the window, drawing in the sharp, cold air outside. She took a long breath, letting the fog in her eyes settle just a little.

Her fingers brushed over the bracelet at her wrist. Then, with a calmer look, she stepped out of the room.

The Bennett house was dead silent at night. The mansion's decor was an odd mix of East and West - classic redwood furniture sat right under glittering crystal chandeliers. Walking across the plush wool carpet, Sabrina felt like a complete stranger in this huge house. The towering ceilings felt endless yet oddly suffocating, making her feel like a floating leaf with no roots.

She pulled back the velvet, lake-blue curtains. Outside, a neat lawn, a sleek pool, and beyond them, the never-ending ocean.

Staring at her reflection in the glass, Sabrina stood there in a daze. The woman looking back was young and beautiful, but the heavy frown and subtle sadness between her brows said otherwise. She lifted a hand and gently touched her own face, expression a little lost.

"Well, look who finally came to life! Our dear young madam woke up!" A snarky voice cut through the silence.

Sabrina turned. A girl in a tight mini-dress with heavy makeup was side-eyeing her.

Simone Bennett strutted over in stiletto heels, long legs on full display, her perfume thick and cloying.

"Guess you're pretty tough, huh? After the beating you took, we all figured you'd be in a coma - or dead," Simone chuckled lowly.

Sabrina just stared at her, no response.

"Tsk. Looks like you've lost your curves. So flat now - guys hate that, you know." Simone grinned and added with fake surprise, "Oh, right, you've already got someone else, haven't you? We totally underestimated you, Sabrina. Sneaking around behind my brother's back? Wow, didn't take you for the type."

Then, out of nowhere, Simone reached out, aiming for her chest. Sabrina's brows shot up as she slapped the hand away fast and hard.

Simone's hand hung mid-air for a second before she scowled, clearly pissed. "You still think you're the lady of the house or something? Throwing attitude at me? Trash!"

Sabrina didn't even look at her as she turned to leave, clearly not in the mood to argue. But Simone wasn't about to let it go. She blocked her path with a bitter laugh. "I'm talking to you! Who said you could leave? You're nothing now - practically a maid. If I tell you to clean the toilets, you better get scrubbing. Got it?"

Sabrina stopped, turning back. Simone was shaking with rage, her expression twisted with hatred and delight - as if putting Sabrina down was her favorite sport.

Chin lifted high, Simone stepped in even closer, eyes brimming with disdain. "Cassian's dropped you, so now you're throwing yourself at other guys? Wow. Just wow. But you know what, makes sense - rotten roots lead to rotten branches. You're just like your mom. Trash breeds trash."

Sabrina's eyes narrowed slightly. Loud, annoying. That was all she thought.

"Hello? You deaf or just playing dumb? I'm saying you and your mother are both dirty whores!" Simone leaned in, jabbing a finger at her face, spitting out each insult with extra venom.

But before she could feel satisfied, pain shot up her wrist. Simone gasped - Sabrina had her arm in a tight grip, eyes cold.

Furious, Simone tried to strike back, but before she could react, Sabrina shoved her away, hard.

Simone crashed to the floor with a loud thud. Humiliated and seething, she scrambled to curse when suddenly- panic. She clutched her throat, eyes wide in shock. Nothing came out. No sound. Her face turned red as she tried to scream - but not a word escaped.

She stared at Sabrina, stunned. That useless weakling had dared to fight back, dared to shove her? Not only that, Sabrina's grip had been surprisingly strong - too strong.

Simone's chest tightened with fear. That girl shouldn't even be standing. She had totally stopped breathing that night. Everyone said she was gone. But now - back from the dead?

A chill ran down her spine. Still clutching her throat, Simone turned and fled without saying another word.