The After Rebirth: Mr. Blackstorm's Beautiful Wife

"It's on fire! Fire! Hurry and get out of the building!"

Ashley was startled and hurried to her feet. She opened the curtain-flames raged outside, already licking the roof, crackling loudly.

How could it suddenly catch fire? It was fine when I came in.

She didn't have time to think. She turned and ran toward the door.

Fortunately, the fire had started from one side of the shed and hadn't reached the door yet.

She opened it and was about to rush out when something suddenly splashed on her face.

Splash!

It felt slightly cold at first, but in the next second, searing pain struck-her skin felt scorched by flames, and she could even smell the stench of burnt flesh.

"Ah..." The heart-piercing pain made Ashley scream. She covered her face, but her hands were also torn apart-blood and flesh mixed.

"My face... my face..." Ashley groaned in agony.

She was an actress. Though not well-known, her face was her livelihood. And now it was ruined. What could she do?

Ashley stumbled, groping blindly. Even so, she couldn't die here-not in this sea of fire.

But just as she took two steps, someone shoved her hard to the ground.

"Who? Who are you? Why are you doing this to me?" Ashley cried out, her voice hoarse.

"Haha..." A woman laughed proudly. "What a pity. Such a beautiful face, ruined in an instant. Ashley Sanchez, how does it feel?"

Ashley was stunned. "Is it you? Mia Sanchez?! Why? Why are you doing this to me?"

"Because I hate you! I've hated you since the day my father brought you home!" Mia sneered. "Ashley, have you ever wondered why your life has been so miserable?"

"Mia..." The highly corrosive solution seeped into Ashley's eyes and mouth, blinding her and burning her throat. She could only groan out hoarse, broken syllables.

The pain made her curl up into a ball. She tried to rise, but collapsed again.

"Hahaha... That's right. I framed you from beginning to end. You're not worthy of returning to the Sanchez family, and you're not worthy of Quentin!" Mia stomped hard on Ashley's hand, bones crunching. "If you dare to fight me, the only outcome is death! Oh-and Quentin? He's already mine. Hahaha..."

"Ah..." Ashley cried out in agony, her voice growing weaker.

The door to survival was shut tightly in front of her.

She couldn't see anything-only feel the flames dancing around her, scorching everything.

She crawled instinctively toward the door, pounding on it with all her might and screaming, "Help... help... help..."

But the fire raged like a devil's tongue, devouring her whole.

"Hot... it's so hot! Hot...!"

A girl was moaning unconsciously, her body drenched in sweat.

Ashley Sanchez felt like she was submerged in lava. It burned-but strangely, she felt no pain.

She slowly opened her eyes.

A pair of deep, soul-piercing eyes made her tremble.

The next second, a man grabbed her neck, his sexy voice dripping with cold menace. "Tell me, who ordered you?"

Just like his voice, the man's appearance was stunning-heroic features, thin brows, and dark pupils as deep as the sea. He stared right into her soul, making her breath catch.

Who is this man? Why is he so fierce?

Ashley was confused. Memories came rushing back. She clearly remembered being surrounded by flames-burned alive by her sister, Mia Sanchez.

Am I not dead? she thought, dazed but oddly relieved. Or... could it be that I've arrived in the underworld?

Her pale face turned even whiter at the thought.

Ashley looked instinctively behind the man, searching for angel wings-white or black-but found nothing.

"What are you looking for?" the man asked, catching her gaze, voice low and suspicious.

"Angel!"

"What?" He frowned slightly, eyes narrowing. "Who are you? Where did this human come from?"

Human? Ashley heard the word clearly.

The phone rang.

Ashley watched the man stand and pick it up. She was stunned.

iPhone 3.

The man's phone was an iPhone 3.

If she remembered right, that model came out ten years ago. It was practically a museum piece now.

What on earth is going on?

Ashley looked out the window, dazed. The giant floor-to-ceiling glass glowed with light, reflecting a slender figure with a beautiful face.

She gasped and touched her face in disbelief. Her skin was smooth-delicate. Not the ruined, scarred face from before.

She tested the feeling of her body. Then bit her wrist.

"Ouch!" It hurt. It was real.

Could it be... I was reborn?

The kind of plot that only happens in novels and dramas had actually happened to her?

The man's low voice echoed nearby. Ashley grew even more confused.

She looked around-the high-end presidential suite, its gray-black color palette elegant and luxurious. Every detail was exquisite. Anyone who could stay here had to be rich-or powerful.

Memories of her past life came flooding back-lies, betrayal, being drugged.

She had once woken up in an unfamiliar room, fear paralyzing her. She'd heard the sound of running water in the bathroom and fled, terrified.

She hadn't looked back. But in the hotel lobby, she'd been surrounded by a swarm of reporters.

At the time, she wasn't a superstar, but she was rising in the entertainment world. Under the harsh flash of cameras, her clothes were a mess, her hair tangled, her neck full of hickeys. She couldn't face their questions.

That day, her face was splashed across every entertainment page.

The close-up photos became damning evidence of "unspoken rules." The accompanying articles were scathing, accusing her of trading her body for success.

Some tabloids even released a photo of a fat old man, trying to convince the world he was her secret lover.

Fans and the public turned on her, calling her shameless. Her agency was furious. The producer of a drama she was set to star in pulled the plug on her role.

That day, Ashley Sanchez's career collapsed.

Now, lying under the covers, she felt the slight coolness on her skin-and the dull ache in her body.

In other words... she had been reborn to that day.

And the man from last night wasn't a fat old man with a big belly... but this man-with eight-pack abs and stunning looks.

It turned out, she hadn't been taken by a pig. On the contrary, this pig was more than acceptable.

The room suddenly fell quiet. Ashley felt a chill down her spine. She was just about to turn over when a force pinned her to the bed.

"Ah..." Ashley gasped, her eyes flying wide open.

The man's strong arm clasped her wrist and pinned it above her head, leaning over to imprison her beneath him.

The black velvet quilt slipped down to her chest, revealing her collarbone. Against the dark fabric, her skin looked even more delicate and fair-almost translucent.

Before her rebirth, Ashley had never been so intimately entangled with a man. Now, being pinned beneath him, she became flustered. "You... let me go!"

"Answer my question," the man said flatly, his thin lips parting. His voice was low and heavy.

"Wh-what?" Ashley stammered, caught off guard by his penetrating gaze.

"Who sent you here?"

"..."

Ashley blinked, stunned. From his tone, it sounded like he, too, had been framed-just like her. Were they both victims?

"Listen to me, you and I..." She began to explain, but the doorbell rang.

A moment later, loud voices and fists banged on the door. "Open up! Open the door now or we'll break it down!"

"..."

Before either of them could react, the door lock rattled. A group of people burst in.

Flashes exploded like fireworks as cameras clicked in a frenzy.

Ashley's shoulders were half-exposed. She quickly grabbed the quilt to cover herself, and the man instinctively helped shield her.

He frowned and turned toward the door with a cold glare. "Who are you? How dare you trespass into someone else's room?"

Everyone froze at his dignified, commanding voice. The next second, someone inhaled sharply.

"Bl-Black... Mr. Blackstorm..."

Silence fell like a blanket.

Wrapped tightly in the quilt, Ashley peeked out.

Clearly, everyone recognized this man-or rather, they feared him.

Her suspicions grew stronger. This man had to be someone powerful.

"Uh... Mr. Blackstorm, I-I'm sorry!" the hotel staff stammered, still holding the key.

One of the reporters stepped forward, trying to laugh it off. "Mr. Blackstorm, it's just a misunderstanding... just a misunderstanding!"

Ashley watched carefully. A sly glint flashed in her blue eyes.

These people were groveling. And this man's last name was Blackstorm.

Could it be...?

Her heart skipped a beat.

If he really was from the Blackstorm family-one of Colorado's four most powerful families-then this man must be...

"Pfft... a misunderstanding?" The man scoffed. "I, Morgan Blackstorm, don't know any of you. So tell me, where exactly is the misunderstanding?"

Ashley's eyes widened. Her guess was right.

Morgan Blackstorm.

The man she had unknowingly slept with... was Morgan Blackstorm.

That night in her past life had been unbearable to recall. But now she wondered: if she hadn't run away back then... if she had known he was Morgan Blackstorm... would everything have been different?

"Mr. Blackstorm," a reporter stepped forward nervously, "we were informed that this actress, Ashley Sanchez, came here for... for an unspoken deal, so-"

"You're lying!" Ashley's voice cut through like a blade. "You clearly framed me!"

"What? We didn't-!"

"You tried to frame me, fine. But how dare you drag Mr. Blackstorm into this!"

"I-we..."

They faltered, panicking under Morgan's icy gaze.

"Then explain," one of them muttered, "why are you here?"

Ashley raised her chin. "I'm with my boyfriend. Is it wrong to be with my boyfriend?"

Boyfriend?

Everyone exchanged confused glances.

Ashley suddenly felt a cold, sharp gaze from beside her. Nervous sweat broke out on her back. She didn't dare look at him.

"What proof do you have that you're Mr. Blackstorm's girlfriend?"

"Proof...?"

Ashley's eyes flicked up, then she boldly wrapped her arms around Morgan's neck, closed her eyes, and kissed him.

Morgan's eyes widened.

The woman in his arms had skin smoother than snow. Her features were delicate, her long, seaweed-like hair slightly messy-yet alluring. She had initiated the kiss, but her trembling lashes and cool, soft lips revealed her nervousness.

Morgan, amused by her boldness, didn't push her away. He was curious how this would play out.

Ashley, meanwhile, was too scared to open her eyes. She clung to him tightly, pretending ignorance, hoping to bluff her way through.

The room fell silent.

No one dared speak as they witnessed the kiss. None of it looked staged. And Morgan Blackstorm-he wasn't rejecting it. His silence... was practically confirmation.

As the kiss ended, Ashley nearly collapsed from relief.

This had all happened so fast. She was still in shock from being reborn. She hadn't been sure Morgan would cooperate. But she bet on one thing: that a man like him would never allow false rumors to tarnish his name.

So between being seen as his girlfriend-or a random girl he slept with-he'd obviously pick the former.

As time crawled by, Ashley felt like she was suffocating.

Finally, Morgan spoke, his voice magnetic and calm.

"You saw it. You heard it. Is that clear now?"

With those words, he acknowledged the relationship.

Trouble had officially begun.

"Mr. Blackstorm, we-"

"Are you still not leaving?" Morgan raised a brow, his voice soft but commanding.

In Spain, few dared to cross Morgan Blackstorm-let alone break into his room and invade his privacy.

No one wanted to stay a second longer.

"Wait!" Morgan's cool voice stopped them mid-step. "Leave your cameras and phones."

Naturally, he wouldn't allow any photos to circulate. Grudgingly, the reporters and staff complied, placing their devices on the table before leaving, one by one.

Silence returned.

Ashley let out a long sigh of relief.

Then she suddenly remembered the position she was in-with Morgan still holding her. She hurriedly pushed him away.

"Tsk... leaving after you've had your fun?" Morgan said with a smirk, his gaze falling on her flushed face.

Ashley wrapped herself tightly in the quilt and glared. "Hey! What do you mean 'after having fun'? Didn't I just help you out?"

"Oh? Help me out?"

"Didn't I?"

Morgan didn't answer, only narrowed his eyes at her.

Ashley's heart pounded. But she refused to be intimidated. Not now.

Still... being stared at like that, she couldn't help but feel guilty. Her voice softened.

"Well... let's just say we helped each other, okay?"

"..."

Morgan's lips curled slightly, his smile turning more playful.

Ashley huffed in annoyance. "Fine! Thank you for not exposing me. You helped me out-I owe you. If you ever need anything from me, just ask. But-" she narrowed her eyes, "whatever happened last night... ends here!"

Ashley sat on the hotel toilet, elbows resting on her knees, her hands cupping her cheeks. Her face was a tangled mess of confusion and disbelief.

The morning sun filtered in through the window, warm and bright-but the time for dreaming was long gone. The chaos from earlier had sobered her more effectively than any cold splash of water.

Still, she couldn't wrap her head around it.

How was she reborn?

Every time she closed her eyes, she could still feel the fire engulfing her, the searing heat swallowing everything, the pain burrowing deep into her bones.

That memory wasn't a nightmare-it had been her end.

She had noticed the desk calendar in Morgan Blackstorm's hotel room. The year read 2008. That meant... she had gone back to when she was nineteen.

Nineteen.

That year, so much had gone wrong.

During the college entrance exam, she'd lost her admission ticket and missed her chance to attend film school. But she hadn't given up. She clawed her way into the entertainment industry through bit parts and extras. Within a year, she finally landed a supporting role-her first real break.

Just when she thought she could make it on her own, that scandalous night happened.

Framed for an "unspoken rule" affair, the media dragged her into the spotlight-and then ripped her to shreds.

Overnight, she became the black sheep of the entertainment world. Her image was ruined. Her budding career, destroyed.

And her family?

Her father-who had once favored her-slapped her twice and called her shameless, saying she'd humiliated the Sanchez name. That he had no daughter like her.

Her grandmother, who had loathed her since childhood, ordered her out of the house. They severed ties, claiming it was the only way to minimize the damage to the family's reputation.

Only her aunt Sally and her two daughters had seemingly spoken up in her defense.

But that... had been a lie.

It wasn't until her death that Ashley saw the truth.

They had been the ones who orchestrated her downfall from the start. She had adored them, worshipped them even. But in reality, they saw her as a threat-a thorn in their side that needed to be plucked.

Even after she was cast out, left with nothing, they never stopped.

In the end, they'd slaughtered her like a lamb to the slaughter.

Her hatred ran deep.

But Heaven, perhaps, had taken pity on her.

She'd been reborn-on the very night the trap had been set. Only this time, she hadn't walked blindly into it.

This time, she would rewrite her fate.

Those who hurt her?

She wouldn't let a single one of them off the hook.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden, shrill ringtone. It startled her.

She reached into her bag and pulled out a familiar flip phone. The once-silver edges were now faded and scratched.

After years with sleek smartphones, the clunky thing felt ancient in her hand.

"Hello?" she answered, flipping it open.

"Ashley, where are you?!" Auntie Sally's overly concerned voice crackled through the speaker. "Oh my God, you didn't come home last night, and your phone was off! The whole family's been worried sick!"

Ashley's lips curled into a cold smile.

Worried sick? More like dying to find out if their trap worked.

"Auntie..." she replied coolly.

"Come back right away, okay? Your dad and grandma don't know yet. Your sister and I have been covering for you!"

Covering for me? Ashley sneered silently.

Sure. And pigs can fly.

She could practically hear the schemes ticking behind Sally's sugary tone.

Standing at the gate of the Sanchez residence again felt surreal. It had been ten years since she was thrown out of this house. Ten years since she lost everything.

The sight of the familiar yet distant home stirred a storm of emotion-grief, rage, and resolve.

But now, she was no longer the helpless girl from her past life.

Ashley tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, straightened her back, and walked in with a serene smile.

As she stepped into the living room, five pairs of eyes snapped to her.

Ah. What a welcoming committee.

Didn't they say Dad and Grandma didn't know?

Judging by their expressions, Sally and Mia had clearly filled them in already.

"Grandma, Dad, Auntie... I'm back!" Ashley chirped sweetly, as if nothing had happened.

She sat gracefully beside Mia on the sofa, catching the curious glances directed at her. Her eyes sparkled with hidden calculation.

"Ashley, where were you last night?" Meena, Sally's other daughter, blurted out, unable to hide her impatience.

Ashley smirked inwardly. Impressive. They can't even pretend to be subtle.

"I went to a colleague's birthday party," she said lightly. "We stayed at the hotel since it ran late."

"You're lying!" Mia snapped.

The sudden outburst was so abrupt that even Grandma and Mr. Sanchez were briefly stunned.

Sally narrowed her eyes and quickly stepped in. "Mia, don't talk nonsense."

But Mia was already in too deep. "I'm not! I ran into Alice last night, and she didn't mention anything about a party!"

Ashley tilted her head and smiled. "Oh? You ran into her? In the hotel lobby... or the bathroom?"

Mia's lips parted, then shut.

Ashley almost laughed. Go on, deny it. You were with Alice-and someone else saw you too. Deny it, and you'll only make yourself look guiltier.

"You... you know I'm close with Alice!" Mia stammered.

"Of course. But Alice is my friend too. And since you're not part of the crew, why would she tell you everything?" Ashley replied innocently, her tone laced with reason.

She remembered every detail of that night from her past life. Back then, she'd been too naive-too trusting.

She'd never imagined that the ones smiling beside her were the same ones driving the knife into her back.

"But you obviously-"

"Mia Sanchez," Bobby snapped, "shut up."

Sally glanced at the clock and subtly nodded to Meena.

"Meena," she said smoothly, "turn on the TV. Your father always likes to catch the morning news."

Meena caught the cue, picked up the remote, and turned it on.

Ashley's gaze flicked to the wall clock.

Morning news always started with politics and business. Entertainment would come next.

Ah. I see what you're doing. You think my scandal is about to explode on-screen. You're hoping Dad and Grandma see it, lose their temper, and throw me out.

Predictable.

Bobby Sanchez barely spared the TV a glance before rising. "I'm not watching this nonsense. Let's eat."

"Dad, just a minute," Mia pleaded. "It's still early."

He waved her off and headed to the dining room.

Ashley stood quickly. "I'll help set the table," she offered sweetly.

Behind her, Mia bit her lip hard, glaring as Ashley floated away-untouched, unharmed, and still smiling.

Then, frustrated, Mia turned up the TV volume to full.