Reborn to Love You: Taming My Cold CEO Husband

"Finally got you two bastards..."

Delia Fleming stood there, eyes like daggers, watching the man and woman tied up in the middle of the room.

Thunder cracked outside the shattered window, lightning briefly lighting up her disfigured face. Scars ran down her body like some awful map of hatred. Her features, once beautiful, now only showed a twisted rage.

She grabbed a bucket of ice-cold water and dumped it mercilessly over the unconscious pair.

Isabelle Fleming woke up first, lashes fluttering before her eyes snapped wide open. The second she saw Delia's ruined face, her pupils shrank.

"Delia?! You disgusting bitch, how is it you?!"

"Untie me right now, or I'll have someone take you out!"

Her screaming stirred Nathan Wallace awake beside her. The moment he caught Delia's face, panic kicked in.

"You tied us up, you psycho?"

"You both deserve to rot!" Delia spat, voice trembling. "Take a good look at me now!"

She stepped closer, her scarred face fully visible under the dim attic light-every inch of twisted flesh telling a story of pain and betrayal.

Isabelle's lips trembled. Nathan's face drained of color as sweat poured down his temples.

Even after all they'd done to her, guiltless as they were, they couldn't hide the fear when facing the monster they'd created.

"If it wasn't for you two, I wouldn't have ended up like this!"

"You deceived me, tricked me into handing everything over-and then left me to die like trash!"

She waved the knife in her hand like a woman on the brink, grief and hate contorting her already broken features.

Isabelle's face flushed with fury, gritting her teeth as she shouted, "Serves you right, you parentless whore. Who gave you the right to inherit the Fleming estate? You and your deadbeat parents should've been long gone!"

"And marrying Curtis? What a joke. Didn't you still get dumped in the end?"

"Oh, did I forget to tell you? Curtis runs the Stockton family now. You're not even close to being good enough for him anymore."

There was venom in her voice, but behind it, a deep, ugly jealousy.

Delia's face darkened. "What happened between Curtis and me is none of your damn business."

"If I hadn't been so blind, I never would've fallen for someone like Nathan!"

Nathan sneered at her face but quickly masked it with a fake tenderness. "Delia, you really think this is all on me? You know I loved you. Just let me go-we can talk about this. I forgive you, alright?"

"Love me?" Delia let out a sharp laugh that echoed off the attic walls.

"If you ever loved me, Nathan, how the hell were you screwing around with Isabelle behind my back?"

Seeing his plea wasn't working, Nathan snapped, desperate. "Because you wouldn't divorce Curtis quick enough! I loved you, but you clung to your precious title as Mrs. Stockton!"

He scowled, frustrated. "You think being VP at the Fleming Corp was enough for me? You really believed I was satisfied with that?"

Delia let out a cold, bitter chuckle.

So that's all it had ever been-a means to an end. She actually let this man into her family's legacy, gave him everything, and all the while he was digging her grave.

Isabelle's face twisted with hate. "Damn right! Nathan and I? We were real. You clinging to him is what got in our way!"

"And the company? You gave it up yourself. Don't try and pin that on us."

"What, you think we had to work hard to fool you? You believed every single lie we fed you like it was gospel!"

Isabelle screamed it all out like poison she'd been dying to spit, then suddenly froze.

Delia pressed the blade to her throat, her eyes filled with a mix of grief and madness.

"Yeah... it was all my fault. I was blind. You two ripped me apart, and now, I'm gonna make sure you pay for every damn second I suffered."

Cold steel grazed Isabelle's face. A deep gash opened, blood dripping, her scream tearing through the attic.

"My face-!"

Delia squeezed her eyes shut, her voice low and shaking. "You made me give up my marriage, my inheritance... and you tried to burn me alive..."

"It's fine. The gift I've got for you two? This is just the beginning."

Delia gave a chilling smirk. Her scarred face twisted into something out of a nightmare.

Ignoring Isabelle's pained shout, she moved toward the corner and dragged over a gasoline can.

"You're insane! You've totally lost it!" The second Nathan smelled the petrol, he started thrashing wildly, fully realizing what Delia was about to do.

That pampered face of his turned twisted and ugly in panic.

"Yeah, you're not wrong. I am insane."

Delia nodded with a smile, then dumped the gasoline all over the floor.

The sharp, biting odor spread quickly, and Isabelle finally started to panic.

"Stop it, Delia! The fire-That wasn't my idea! It was all Nathan's!"

"It had nothing to do with me!" Nathan snapped. "You were the one stirring things up nonstop. Like I had a choice?"

"You lit the damn fire! You had your eyes on the Fleming fortune from the start!"

"Bullshit!" Nathan roared back. "You couldn't stand that she married Curtis! You were jealous!"

"You used to mock Curtis for being a cripple. Now he's a big shot and you're ready to hop in his bed. Pathetic!"

"I didn't!" Isabelle screamed back, hysterical. "If Delia hadn't been around, I would've been the one to marry Curtis!"

As Delia stood there watching them tear each other apart, she couldn't help it-she laughed. It was the ugliest joke she'd ever seen.

They were partners in crime. Until there was something more to gain.

Then they'd gladly sell each other out.

"...It's all your fault! Go to hell!"

In that moment of Delia's daze, Nathan suddenly broke free from the ropes and tackled her to the ground.

Delia fought back with all her strength. Just as he was about to snatch the weapon from her-

Shhk!

That sound of a knife sinking into flesh was loud, almost too real.

Nathan froze.

He looked down at the knife in his gut, stunned.

"You... you..." He stumbled, then crashed to the floor.

Isabelle stood frozen for a second, then let out a scream that pierced the air. "AHHHH!!"

Delia stood motionless, staring at the rapidly spreading blood on the floor.

So red. Just like pig's blood. That thick, metallic scent was overwhelming.

In that moment, Delia felt something she'd longed for-revenge. And it felt good.

CRACK! BOOM!

Right then, the old, crumbling building gave way. A wave of weightlessness overtook her.

The last thing Delia saw was Isabelle's eyes-huge with pure terror.

The downpour outside swallowed the heavy crash of falling debris.

Pain exploded through every inch of her body. She knew she wouldn't survive.

Looking back on everything, Delia asked herself: What had she really done with her life?

She gave everything up for two trash excuses for humans.

And just like that, a flash of Curtis Stockton came to her.

The man who had truly loved her. The one she kept pushing away.

"Curtis..." she whispered, as tears slid down her soot-streaked face.

If only she hadn't been so blind. If only she hadn't let Isabelle get in her head-maybe she'd still be with him.

But she hadn't. And now it was too late.

She hoped, after she was gone, Curtis would find happiness. Someone who saw him for who he truly was.

"If there's a next life..." Her voice grew faint, blood bubbling from her lips. "Cough... cough..."

Curtis, I'll love you properly next time.

I won't give up on you again.

*****

The rain poured down harder.

When Curtis finally arrived at the remote villa, it was already too late.

He dropped to his knees in the rain, cradling Delia's lifeless body.

Water and blood soaked through his pricey suit. But he didn't notice.

He gently touched the scars on her face, love and heartbreak gleaming in his eyes.

Too late.

"Delia, wait for me. I'm coming."

Then he reached down, picked up the fallen knife.

Without hesitation, he drove it straight into his own chest.

And collapsed, still holding her, as everything faded to red...

Delia woke up to a sharp, throbbing pain.

She struggled to lift her heavy eyelids, her blurry vision slowly sharpening.

Where was this?

Definitely not hell.

The last thing she remembered was the searing pain of bones shattering.

And Curtis...

His name hit her like a knife to the chest.

She jerked her head up, eyes darting around in panic.

Not too far away, someone sat on the couch.

The man was dressed in a fitted black shirt with an undone collar.

Even though he was in a wheelchair, his back was straight, posture tense, like he was carrying the weight of the world.

His head drooped slightly, a few strands of black hair falling over his brows, shadowing his face.

Still, Delia recognized him instantly.

Curtis.

A rush of shock and overwhelming joy swelled up inside her.

She barely noticed the pain anymore, stumbling across the room like her life depended on it, throwing herself at his figure.

"Curtis!" she choked out, her voice breaking.

She clung to him like a drowning person grabbing the last lifeline, burying her tear-streaked face into his chest.

After what felt like forever, Delia straightened, reluctantly cupping Curtis's face with both hands.

The moment she launched into his arms, Curtis froze up completely.

He just sat there, stunned.

This... this wasn't the reaction he'd expected.

If he'd learned anything from their past arguments, she should've been screaming, blaming him-or threatening with something dramatic.

Now, seeing her in tears, clinging onto him like that, his brows furrowed deeply.

It hadn't even been that long ago she was tearing him apart with cruel words, saying she'd rather die than keep this marriage going.

And now this? What game was she playing now?

He could feel her tears soaking into his shirt, a cold spot blooming across his chest.

Her slender fingers brushed against his face, soft and cool to the touch. There was a flicker of something unfamiliar in him-but it didn't last.

The hope died almost as quickly as it came.

He'd seen enough of her emotional whiplash to know better.

"Let go," Curtis said flatly.

"No," Delia murmured, holding him tighter.

With tears still clinging to her lashes, she stared hard at the man she hadn't seen for what felt like a lifetime.

Sharp brows, dark eyes, that tightly pressed mouth that strangled so many words before they formed-damn, why hadn't she noticed before?

He was exactly her type.

Without thinking, her face inched closer-then she bit his lip.

"Mmm-!" Curtis's eyes widened, but she had him locked in place, arms tight around him.

Delia clumsily ran her tongue along the spot, then let go, stunned at what she'd just done.

Her cheeks flamed. "I... I didn't mean to..."

Would he even buy that?

She wanted to slap herself. What the hell was she thinking?

Great timing to lose control and plant one on him.

Curtis's expression shifted between awkward and annoyed, even a little shy somehow.

"What are you doing now?" His voice was low, his ears visibly red as he tried to calm down.

He used to dream about her kissing him-but not like this.

This just felt like some awkward joke, something thrown his way without real meaning.

Curtis shut his eyes, inhaling what remained of her scent.

When he opened them again, Delia was still frozen there, hand covering her mouth, staring like she'd completely glitched.

He took advantage of her dazed state, gave her a light shove.

Delia, still weak, stumbled back and landed on the cold floor.

A flash of concern crossed his face, but it vanished a second later.

As she looked up at him with wet eyes full of sorrow, she whispered, "Curtis, I..."

"That's enough," Curtis interrupted, his voice flat and drained, like he'd already given up. "I've agreed to it."

"They're printing the divorce papers right now. Let's just sign them in a bit."

Divorce papers?

A sudden jolt pulled Delia back-right, today was the day.

This was the day, in her past life, when she'd threatened to take her own life just to make him agree to the divorce.

Fear surged up inside her like a tidal wave.

No, not this time.

She'd gotten another chance-how could she possibly let him go again?

"I'm not divorcing you," she blurted out, shaking her head fiercely. "Curtis, I changed my mind. I don't want the divorce."

She sounded frantic, almost out of breath trying to make him believe her. "I'm serious. I really regret it!"

Curtis gave her a long, unreadable look before a tiny, bitter smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Just sign it."

Then he turned around and walked out without giving her another glance.

Seeing him leave made Delia panic. She tried to chase after him, but her sore body lagged behind.

Without thinking, she wiped tear tracks from her face-only to freeze.

Her skin was smooth. Like porcelain.

Gone were the disfiguring scars from the fire.

In disbelief, she looked down at her hands.

Aside from a little scrape on her wrist from when she fell earlier, her skin was pale and flawless.

She quickly ran her fingers along her neck-no burn marks. Nothing. Everything was intact.

Delia dug her nails into her arm.

It hurt. Bad.

She winced.

But the pain was real-so was this place. The study. Curtis sitting in his wheelchair.

And her body, untouched by fire...

The thought hit her like a thunderclap.

Had she... come back?

Was this a second shot at everything?

And just like that, joy and grief crashed into her all at once, tears spilling even as she smiled through them.

Curtis was just pulling the door open when he glanced back-and saw the mess Delia had become.

In his eyes, she'd finally lost it. All this madness, just over a divorce?

His expression froze for half a second before he masked whatever he felt, turning away again.

Delia scrambled up from the floor, not even worrying about the tangled mess her hair had become.

She could hear the soft hum of wheels from downstairs now-Curtis's wheelchair.

His legs were injured. He couldn't walk without it.

He hadn't gone far.

A spark of hope lit up in her chest.

She darted out of the study, her only thought to get to him.

"Curtis, hold on!"

Ignoring the spinning in her head, she staggered toward him as fast as she could.

All she saw was his back, moving further away.

She couldn't let him leave. Not like this.

In her last life, everything fell apart the moment they divorced.

This time, she had to stop him-whatever it took.

Delia pushed herself, sprinting until she caught him just as he was about to open the front door.

She spread her arms wide, blocking his path.

She was panting hard, shoulders rising and falling with each breath, a total wreck-but her eyes were blazing.

"What now?" Curtis stared at her, brows pulled tight.

Did she seriously want out this badly?

So badly she couldn't wait and had to bolt now?

His lips twitched, another self-deprecating smile threatening to show.

Maybe she really hated him.

But then-she shook her head.

She met his eyes, voice trembling, "Curtis, listen to me. I'm not going through with the divorce."

Where should she even begin?

If she told him the truth-that she'd been reborn-he'd probably think she'd gone completely off the rails.

Delia's throat felt dry as sand. She drew in a deep breath, forcing herself to focus.

Then she locked eyes with him, holding his skeptical gaze with everything she had.

"I regret it... suddenly, I feel like our marriage wasn't that bad after all..."

She was just about to go on.

"You don't need to say this." His voice was low. "You've endured long enough-I should've let go sooner."

The silence between them thickened, like the air had turned too heavy to breathe.

Delia was starting to panic. "I don't want to leave. Babe, I just want to be with you."

Curtis's reaction threw her completely off.

In desperation, she said it-"babe."

Sure enough, Curtis froze for a split second.

"Babe, come on, we're husband and wife-when was there ever any real grudge?" Delia tried to keep the momentum going. "I kissed you, didn't I?"

Curtis hesitated, caught totally off guard. The words he meant to say got stuck in his throat.

He stared at the woman in front of him, a mix of disbelief and confusion in his eyes.

Had she completely lost it?

Even though, deep down, being called that did stir a little something in him.

But he quickly got a grip and said slowly, "Delia, I know you've been waiting for this moment."

He backed up about half a meter in his wheelchair.

"I'm sorry we dragged this out so long. I know it frustrated you."

Right as the words left his mouth, hurried footsteps echoed from down the hallway.

Delia's heart sank.

Noah Hyde was approaching with a document in hand.

He spotted Delia blocking the doorway and his face instantly darkened. Almost like pure instinct, he lunged forward, positioning himself squarely between her and Curtis.

"Miss Fleming," Noah said tightly, anger simmering just beneath the surface, though his tone still showed restraint. "What are you trying to do now? The divorce papers are ready. Please don't push Mr. Stockton any further."

Noah was practically boiling on the inside.

He'd seen how much Curtis had given for this woman-and how much heartbreak she'd handed back in return.

The endless outbursts, the cruel words, even using suicide to force a breakup.

And now that her demands were finally being met, she showed up pretending to be the wronged party?

He couldn't wrap his head around why Curtis still tolerated her.

Even going as far as warning him: no matter what Delia did, no one was allowed to touch a hair on her head.

She didn't deserve a fraction of Curtis's kindness...

But Curtis raised a hand, signaling him to stand down.

"It's okay. Step back," he said calmly.

He took the divorce papers from Noah and rolled forward, holding them out to Delia.

She stared at the cold, emotionless paper.

In her last life, signing those had been the moment she unknowingly pushed away the man who loved her most.

It had been the gateway into a nightmare carefully crafted by Isabelle and Nathan.

That regret now hit hard-her hands trembled uncontrollably, and her eyes shimmered with tears.

She looked at Curtis, pleading silently with her gaze.

But what she felt inside, Curtis read differently.

To him, she just seemed overly emotional. Like even sharing the same room with him was torture.

Like she couldn't wait to be done with this so she could finally breathe.

So, in her eyes, he saw joy-joy at being free.

Maybe, to her, he was just some heavy baggage she was finally ditching.

The sting in his chest spread like wildfire, sharp and bitter.

Any trace of hesitation disappeared completely.

Curtis's expression fell. He withdrew the papers sharply.

"Seems like you really are happy to get divorced. Fine. The sooner it's done, the better-for both of us."

He turned toward Noah. "Pen."

Noah immediately handed over an expensive fountain pen with both hands.

Curtis took the pen, flipped straight to the last page of the agreement, and signed his name cleanly without a pause.

Once done, he handed the papers back to Delia.

"Here. Sign it."

Signing meant they'd be completely done. No turning back.

Delia still remembered the mess she made in her past life.

Choosing to leave Curtis, betraying him, and in the end... disfigured, ruined, with nothing left.

No way she was signing that thing. No chance.

She clenched her jaw, staring right at Curtis.

"Honey, I'm not signing."

"Let's say I never brought it up, okay? And if you keep pushing it... I might just kiss you again."

She folded her arms across her chest stubbornly, her lips twitching into a defiant line. She meant it.

Curtis froze mid-motion, the papers still in hand.

A faint blush slipped onto his face.

Why did that freaking weird kiss just pop into his head again?

Curtis narrowed his eyes and drew in a long breath, then looked straight at Delia's face.

Something felt off.

Before, all she ever did was cry and throw tantrums to force him to let go-so she could leave.

But now? She was digging in her heels, refusing to let go. That didn't feel fake.

She even kissed him... and made that weird threat to do it again.

Could she actually mean it?

But just as soon as the idea took shape, Curtis brutally shut it down.

He couldn't afford that kind of hope. Not again. Every time he reached for it, it just led to more pain.

He let out a tired sigh.

"So what is it that you really want now?"

"Curtis... I was blinded before. I get it now. Let me stay with you, okay?"

Delia looked up at him like she was on the edge of crying, voice soft but firm, eyes full of desperate sincerity.

Curtis didn't say a word for a good while. His gaze was dark, searching her, almost like trying to read her mind.

Then he finally looked away.

He shoved the signed agreement into Noah's hands.

Noah stepped forward immediately, perfectly cutting off Delia.

"Miss Fleming, please sign here."

He just didn't get it.

This woman hurt Curtis over and over, and now here she was, playing the "I'm so sorry, I love you" card again.

And for some reason, Curtis was still giving her another chance.

Delia didn't even glance at the pen. She slapped it right out of his hand.

The pen hit the ground, bounced a few times, and let out a crisp clatter.

"I said I'm not signing." Delia looked past Noah and locked eyes with Curtis, who sat silently in his wheelchair.

"Can you leave us alone for a minute? I've got something personal to say to my husband."

She knew Curtis wouldn't kick her out. Not completely. Not yet.

Noah's brows furrowed tight. He was ready to say no on instinct.

He'd seen too many sides of this woman-how fast she could flip from one extreme to the other.

Leaving Curtis alone with her? No telling what chaos she'd stir up.

He opened his mouth to protest-but didn't get the chance.

"Noah," Curtis's voice cut in, low and steady, "go wait in the car."

"Boss-!" Noah blurted out.

Right... on paper, he was just Curtis's bodyguard-slash-driver.

Almost let something slip just then.

Curtis raised a hand, shutting that down quickly.

"I said, go wait in the car."

Noah clamped his mouth shut, shot Delia a sharp glare, but didn't push it further.

He bent down, picked up the pen, then shuffled out the door, glancing back every few steps.

Curtis turned his wheelchair to face Delia again, staring at her quietly.

She'd asked for the divorce, now backtracked, cried all over him, swore she wouldn't leave.

Even kissed him. And now? She kept looking at him like she'd do it again.

His jaw tightened.

"If you've got something to say, say it now."

Delia's heart pounded in her chest like a drum.