Reborn to Reject You

I woke up with a gasp, my head pounding, in Ethan Reed's opulent penthouse. Another one of his infamous parties, and he was slumped, reeking of alcohol, calling out someone else' s name.

Then he mumbled, "Call... call my angel. Call Chloe." My blood ran cold. This was it. The exact moment. The one I' d lived and died to escape.

In my first life, my stupid, desperate love for him – my guardian – led me to seize his drunken vulnerability. That night, I "comforted" him. It led to a scandalous pregnancy, a forced marriage, and his true love' s death in a car crash on our wedding day. Ethan blamed me for everything. He transformed into a monster, and when I went into labor, he watched me bleed out, whispering hateful words as I died. "This is for Chloe," he' d hissed.

I spent my entire previous life trapped, tormented, and discarded for a love that was a lie. How could I have been so blind, so foolish? The injustice of it burned.

But this time, I was lucid. This time, I had my memories. My hands were steady as I reached for my phone, found Chloe Vance's number, and pressed call. This time, I wouldn't seek his love. I would shatter his perfect life and gain my own freedom.

I woke up with a gasp, my head pounding.

The music was too loud, the lights too bright.

I was in Ethan Reed's penthouse, at one of his infamous parties.

He was slumped on the velvet couch, eyes unfocused, reeking of expensive alcohol and something else, something chemical.

"Sarah," he slurred, his hand reaching out, fumbling. "Call... call my angel. Call Chloe."

My blood ran cold. This was it. The exact moment.

In my first life, I saw his vulnerability, his drugged state, as an opportunity.

My stupid, desperate love for him, my guardian, the man who raised me after my parents died, made me do something I regretted for the rest of my short, miserable life.

I' d "comforted" him.

That night led to a pregnancy.

Then a forced marriage to save his reputation.

Chloe Vance, his "true love," died in a car crash on our wedding day, rushing to confront him. He never answered her calls. He was too busy marrying me.

Ethan blamed me for everything.

He became a monster.

When I went into labor, in our isolated mansion, he watched me bleed.

He delayed calling for help.

"This is for Chloe," he' d hissed, his face a mask of hate, as I died.

But this time, I was lucid. This time, I had my memories.

"Okay, Ethan," I said, my voice surprisingly steady.

I pulled out my phone. My fingers didn' t even tremble as I found Chloe Vance's number.

I pressed call.

Ethan' s eyes, usually sharp and commanding, were hazy, but they fixed on me with a disturbing intensity.

In my first life, that look would have melted me. Now, it just made my skin crawl.

"Chloe's on her way, Ethan," I said, keeping my voice flat.

I stepped back, putting distance between us.

"Sarah..." he mumbled, his hand still outstretched.

I ignored him and walked out of his private suite, the heavy door clicking shut behind me.

Chloe arrived minutes later, her designer dress perfect, not a hair out of place.

She swept into the suite, her eyes quickly scanning me from head to toe. I saw the flicker of suspicion, then relief when she noted I was fully clothed and composed.

"You can go," she said, her tone clipped and dismissive. "I'm here now. He doesn't need you."

I nodded once and retreated to my small, plain room at the other end of the sprawling penthouse.

The sounds from Ethan' s suite – hushed voices, then silence – eventually faded.

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the memories of my first life playing like a horror film.

My pathetic, all-consuming love.

The cold, empty marriage.

Chloe' s death.

Ethan's calculated cruelty.

This time, I gave him Chloe. This time, I would escape.

The next morning, Chloe was at the breakfast table, radiant.

Ethan, nursing a massive hangover, looked pale but smug.

"Chloe is my girlfriend," he announced to the household staff, his gaze pointedly landing on me. "My future wife."

He turned to me, his voice laced with condescension. "Sarah, you will treat your future aunt-in-law with respect. The respect I taught you."

"Congratulations," I said, my voice bland.

Chloe, however, pouted. Tears welled in her eyes. "Ethan, darling," she whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear. "I don't think Sarah is happy for us. She doesn't seem to welcome me."

Ethan' s face darkened. "Sarah, finish your oatmeal. Stop being rude."

I calmly pushed my bowl away. "I've had enough, thank you."

His jaw tightened. My composure clearly infuriated him.

Later that day, he cornered me in my room. The door slammed open.

"Are you sulking because of Chloe?" he demanded, his eyes narrowed.