Gemma expected the tearing agony of the bullet wound that had just ended her life.
Instead, her trembling fingers met the cool, smooth friction of heavy silk.
She stared into the mirror. Her face was flawless, completely devoid of the jagged scar that had marred her cheek for the last five years.
It was exactly ten years ago. The day of her engagement party to the ruthless billionaire, Brion Hubbard.
In her past life, her “best friend” Katelyn convinced her to run away with a scheming scumbag.
Katelyn claimed Brion was a heartless tyrant who would ruin her. Gemma had foolishly believed those fake tears.
That choice led to her family’s bankruptcy, her brutal disfigurement, and ultimately, a fatal bomb explosion.
The only person who tried to save her was Brion, his blood-soaked body shielding hers from the blast.
She even realized too late that the strawberry cream cakes she always made for him were full of dairy.
He wasn’t leaving to cheat on her. He was locking himself in a medical bay, fighting fatal allergic shock, just to accept a tiny scrap of her affection.
Gemma had been so incredibly blind. Why did she trust the venomous snakes who destroyed her, while hating the man who died for her?
Hearing Katelyn frantically knocking on the dressing room door, urging her to run away again, a towering hatred surged through Gemma’s veins.
This time, she wasn’t going to run.
She was going to expose the traitors, take back her family’s wealth, and claim the tyrant for herself.
Reborn Heiress: Taming The Ruthless Tycoon Chapter 1
A blinding white light pierced her retinas. The deafening crash of a live symphony orchestra slammed into her eardrums.
Gemma gasped. Her lungs expanded violently, sucking in air as if she had just breached the surface of freezing water.
Her hands flew to her abdomen. She expected to feel the warm, sticky pooling of her own blood. She expected the tearing agony of the bullet wound that had just ended her life.
Instead, her trembling fingers met the cool, smooth friction of heavy silk.
Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic, erratic rhythm that made her chest physically ache.
Gemma gripped the edge of the mahogany vanity table and forced herself upright. Her legs felt like lead.
She stared into the massive mirror. The face staring back at her was flawless. The skin was tight, glowing, and completely devoid of the jagged scar that had marred her left cheek for the last five years of her life.
Her breath hitched and stopped completely in her throat.
A sharp, frantic knock rattled the heavy dressing room door.
“Gemma! Open up, hurry!”
Katelyn’s voice. It was hushed, urgent, and laced with a familiar, sickening sweetness.
That voice acted like a poison-laced key, instantly unlocking every agonizing memory of her past life-the betrayal, the ruined face, and finally, the cold barrel of the gun. The towering hatred surged like molten lava, obliterating the initial haze of her rebirth, leaving behind nothing but a shockwave of pure, unadulterated murderous intent straight to Gemma’s brain. Her fingers curled into the fabric of her silk dress, gripping it so hard her knuckles turned stark white.
She snatched the phone off the vanity. The screen lit up.
The date glowing in stark white numbers confirmed the impossible. It was exactly ten years ago. The day of her engagement party.
The door handle rattled violently. Katelyn found it locked.
“Gemma, Jair is waiting in the rain! If you don’t leave now, you’ll be trapped!” Katelyn hissed through the wood.
Gemma swallowed the bile rising in her throat. She forced the muscles in her face to relax, burying the towering hatred deep into her gut.
She marched to the door and yanked it open.
Her eyes, cold and dead as a shark’s, locked onto the woman standing in the hallway.
Katelyn physically recoiled. She took a half-step back, the rehearsed words of fake sympathy instantly dying in her throat.
It took Katelyn exactly one second to recover. Her face morphed into a mask of exaggerated panic.
She lunged forward, reaching out to grab Gemma’s wrist.
Gemma didn’t even blink. She shifted her weight, turning her shoulder a fraction of an inch.
Katelyn’s hand grasped empty air.
Confusion flashed across Katelyn’s eyes. She quickly masked it with a harsh whisper. “If we don’t move right this second, the security team will lock down the perimeter.”
“And Brion?” Gemma asked.
The name scraped against her throat. A visceral image of Brion’s blood-soaked body shielding hers from the explosion flashed behind her eyes. Her chest tightened painfully.
“Why would I run from him?” Gemma asked, her voice dripping with a dark, mocking amusement.
Katelyn’s eyes widened. “Because of Jair! He’s freezing out there for you. You said you loved him!”
Gemma stared at the pathetic display. Her trained instincts, honed through years of surviving in the underground, easily bypassed the fake tears and locked onto the raw, naked greed burning in Katelyn’s pupils.
Heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor. The head butler, flanked by two earpiece-wearing security guards, was marching straight toward them.
Panic seized Katelyn’s features. She reached out again, aiming to physically drag Gemma toward the emergency stairwell.
Gemma’s hand shot out. Her fingers clamped down on Katelyn’s wrist like a steel vice. She pressed her thumb directly into the cluster of nerves just below the joint.
Katelyn gasped, her knees buckling slightly as a sharp, shooting pain paralyzed her arm.
The butler stopped a few feet away. He eyed the two women with deep suspicion. “Miss Vargas. The ceremony is about to begin.”
Gemma released the pressure on Katelyn’s wrist instantly. She curved her lips into the flawless, empty smile of a high-society heiress.
“I’ll be right down,” Gemma said smoothly.
The butler gave a stiff nod and turned on his heel.
Katelyn cradled her red, throbbing wrist against her chest. “Are you out of your mind?” she hissed, her voice trembling with genuine anger.
Gemma stepped into Katelyn’s personal space. The air between them turned suffocatingly cold.
“Keep your dirty little thoughts in the dark where they belong,” Gemma whispered.
Katelyn stumbled backward. Her spine hit the wallpapered wall with a soft thud. A cold sweat broke out on the back of her neck.
Gemma turned her back on her. She walked to the vanity and picked up the velvet box. Inside lay the multi-million dollar diamond necklace Brion had sent her.
She lifted the heavy platinum chain and fastened it around her own neck. The cold diamonds settled perfectly over the small mole on her collarbone.
Her reflection in the mirror was no longer a victim. It was a predator.
Katelyn stood frozen in the doorway, too terrified to step inside. She watched the prey she had spent years grooming calmly fix her makeup.
Gemma picked up a crystal flute of champagne from the side table. She downed the burning liquid in one continuous swallow, letting the alcohol burn away the last lingering tremors of her rebirth.
She set the glass down with a sharp clink.
Her heels clicked against the hardwood floor as she walked right past Katelyn, not giving her a single glance. She headed straight down the corridor toward her father’s private study.
Below them, the muffled voice of the MC echoed through the grand hall, announcing the imminent arrival of the bride-to-be.
Gemma kept her eyes fixed on the heavy oak door ahead. She was going to take everything back.
Reborn Heiress: Taming The Ruthless Tycoon Chapter 2
Gemma didn’t bother knocking. She shoved the heavy oak door open with both hands.
Keyshawn Vargas sat behind his massive desk, a phone pressed to his ear. He scowled at the interruption, covering the mouthpiece with his palm.
His eyes shot daggers at her, a silent command to get the hell out.
Gemma stepped inside. She pushed the door shut behind her and twisted the brass lock until it clicked.
She walked straight to the wall and yanked the telephone cord right out of the socket.
The line went dead.
Keyshawn slammed his hands on the desk and shot to his feet. His face flushed a dark, angry red.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he roared.
Gemma pulled out the leather guest chair and sat down. She crossed her legs.
“Shut up if you don’t want the stock to tank at opening bell tomorrow,” she said.
Keyshawn froze. The sheer authority radiating from his daughter hit him like a physical blow.
He blinked, quickly recovering his arrogance. “Stop this nonsense right now and get downstairs. You are embarrassing this family.”
Gemma picked up the heavy steel cigar cutter resting on the edge of his desk. She flipped it open and closed, the sharp blades snapping with a metallic bite.
“I can walk out the front door right now and cancel the merger,” she said. She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t have to.
Keyshawn’s jaw tightened. “If you run, the cash flow for Vargas Holdings dries up by tomorrow afternoon. You’ll ruin us.”
A dry, humorless laugh escaped Gemma’s lips. “So you admit you’re just selling me to cover your own failures.”
“It is for the future of the family trust!” Keyshawn snapped, pointing a thick finger at her.
“You mean the trust that is currently hiding three hundred and forty-two million in toxic offshore debt?” Gemma asked.
Keyshawn’s pupils dilated. The blood drained from his face.
“Who told you that?” he demanded, his voice dropping to a panicked whisper.
Gemma slammed the cigar cutter point-down into the mahogany desk. The blade bit deep into the expensive wood.
“I want the trust terms amended. I want ten percent of the voting shares transferred to my name. Now.”
Keyshawn let out a bark of desperate laughter. “You can’t even read a balance sheet, you stupid girl.”
Gemma pulled her phone from her clutch. She tapped the screen twice.
A voice filled the quiet study. It was Keyshawn’s voice, slurring slightly, calling the Hubbard family a bunch of uncultured thugs he was going to bleed dry.
Keyshawn lunged across the desk, his hands clawing for the device.
Gemma leaned back effortlessly, letting him grab nothing but air.
“I have this set on a five-minute delay,” Gemma said, her thumb hovering over the screen. “Sign the shares over, or this goes to the Wall Street Journal.”
Keyshawn shook with rage. He pointed a trembling finger at her. “You ungrateful bitch. You are no daughter of mine.”
A sharp, phantom pain pierced Gemma’s chest. The hidden truth of her real bloodline throbbed like an old wound. She pushed the feeling down instantly.
She pulled a printed document from her clutch and slid it across the desk toward him. She placed his favorite fountain pen right next to it.
The intercom on the wall buzzed. The MC’s voice filtered through, politely requesting the bride to make her way to the stairs.
The ticking clock hung in the air, thick and suffocating.
Keyshawn stared at the tablet. He knew what Brion Hubbard would do to him if that recording leaked.
He snatched the pen, uncapped it with his teeth, and spit the cap onto the floor.
He pressed the nib against the paper, signing his name with enough force to tear through the top sheet.
Gemma picked up the document. She checked the inked signature, confirmed the transfer, and canceled the email timer.
A genuine, predatory smile touched her lips.
She stood up and smoothed the front of her silk dress.
“A pleasure doing business with you,” she said.
She turned her back on him and walked toward the locked door.
Reborn Heiress: Taming The Ruthless Tycoon Chapter 3
Gemma pulled the door open and stepped out of the study.
Katelyn was pacing the carpeted hallway, chewing aggressively on her lower lip.
She rushed forward the second she saw Gemma. “Did he yell at you? Are you okay?” Katelyn asked, her eyes scanning Gemma’s face for signs of tears.
Gemma casually tapped the screen of the tablet in her hand. “I just got ten percent of the family trust.”
The mask of concern on Katelyn’s face shattered. The muscles around her mouth twitched violently.
“How… how could you possibly get trust shares?” Katelyn stammered. Her voice pitched up, sharp and entirely out of bounds for a mere friend.
Gemma looked down at her, her eyes flat and cold. “Since when is my family’s money any of your concern?”
Katelyn’s breath hitched. She immediately dropped her gaze, biting her lip harder, forcing a look of wounded innocence.
Gemma didn’t wait for an apology. She walked past her, heading straight for the powder room at the end of the hall.
Katelyn waited until Gemma’s footsteps faded. Her hands balled into tight fists. Her nails dug into her palms until the skin nearly broke.
She darted into a small utility closet across the hall and pulled the door shut.
She dug into the lining of her purse and pulled out a cheap, prepaid burner phone. Her fingers shook as she dialed a memorized number.
“Mom,” Katelyn hissed into the receiver the second it connected. “She didn’t run. She just took ten percent of the company.”
Miles away, Donia Bruce sat up so fast she knocked a bottle of essential oil off her massage table. The glass shattered against the tiles.
“Calm down,” Donia ordered, her voice tight. “It’s a fluke. She’s an idiot.”
“She looked at me like she wanted to kill me!” Katelyn argued, her chest heaving. “She’s not acting like herself.”
“Then we move to Plan B,” Donia said coldly. “Ruin her tonight. Make sure the Hubbard boy sees it.”
“How?”
“Use the artist. Tell her he’s going to kill himself. Get her down to the side entrance where the paparazzi are grouped.”
A dark, venomous light sparked in Katelyn’s eyes. “I will. She’s going to lose everything.”
Katelyn ended the call. She took a deep breath, staring at her reflection in the metal surface of a mop bucket. She forced the corners of her mouth up into a soft, supportive smile.
She pushed the closet door open and stepped out.
Gemma was walking back down the hall, adjusting the heavy diamond necklace.
Katelyn hurried over and gently linked her arm through Gemma’s.
Every muscle in Gemma’s body screamed to snap the girl’s neck. She forced herself to remain still. She noticed the fine sheen of sweat on the bridge of Katelyn’s nose.
“Gemma,” Katelyn whispered, her voice trembling perfectly. “Jair is freezing out there. He’s waiting in the rain just to see you one last time.”
Gemma kept her face blank. She hadn’t gone far. Leaning against the wall just a few feet away, she had picked up the muffled vibrations through the door and the suppressed, frantic pitch of Katelyn’s voice, piecing together the crucial fragments of the conversation: “Plan B” and “the Hubbard boy.”
She stopped walking. She let her shoulders slump slightly, manufacturing a look of deep, painful conflict.
Katelyn saw the hesitation and immediately pressed her advantage. She shoved her own phone into Gemma’s hands. “Look. He sent a suicide note. He’s going to end it if you don’t come.”
Gemma stared at the screen. The pathetic, manipulative text messages made her stomach physically churn.
“What do I do?” Gemma asked, making her voice sound small and fragile.
Katelyn’s eyes gleamed with suppressed triumph. She pointed toward the grand staircase. “Go to the side door by the media pit. He’s hiding behind the hedges there.”
Gemma gave a slow, hesitant nod.
She lowered her eyelashes, hiding the absolute bloodlust burning in her pupils. The trap was set.