Rebirth of the True Heiress

Ronan’s skeletal fingers dug into my hand. His dying breath? A vow to join his precious first love in the grave. He transferred every single asset to her bastard kid.

He left me and little Arlo with absolutely nothing. The real kicker?

As his monitor flatlined, I found out my wealthy biological parents had spent their entire lives searching for me. Ronan and his sweet Aspen had intercepted every lead.

Iron coated my tongue. My lungs seized. I choked on my own blood and rage, spiraling into the dark. Then my eyes snapped open. The stench of bleach and stale cabbage hit me.

I was back in the orphanage. And there he was. Ronan, reborn just like me, standing next to his adoptive parents with redrimmed eyes.

He choked out a promise to adopt me, to make it all right this time. I glanced at Aspen.

She was already slashing her own arm, putting on a psychotic, bleedingheart show to steal the adoption slot. I just smiled. “Carlton, Vivienne. You should take her.

Toxic trash belongs together.” Chapter 1 The second those words left his mouth, I knew. Ronan remembered everything.

He had promised to make amends right before he pulled the plug on his own life. I arched an eyebrow. At least the man kept his word. In my past life, I had been hungry.

I had clawed my way through the dirt, desperate to escape the daily beatings and the gnawing starvation. I had plotted. I had schemed.

I finally caught Carlton and Vivienne’s attention. But the day before my escape from this hellhole, Ronan walked in holding Aspen’s hand.

She squeezed out crocodile tears, her trembling finger pointing straight at my chest.

She spun a web of sickening lies—that I bullied her, that I was a pathological liar, that I was even trying to seduce the staff. Ronan swallowed every single lie.

He shattered my ticket out. As he led Aspen to the waiting limousine, he turned back to the entire courtyard. “Marlowe is a literal curse. She’s toxic.

Stay the hell away from her if you know what’s good for you.” That single sentence plunged me from purgatory straight into hell. I survived five more years of pure agony.

Meanwhile, Aspen slipped on designer shoes and became their precious, pampered princess. Now, the reborn Ronan stared at me with wet eyes. “Be my sister this time.

I’ll give you the world. You’ll never have to envy anyone again.” I tasted the bitter iron of his guilt. He had finally figured out Aspen’s manipulation in our last life.

He spent decades choking on the regret of ruining me, haunted by those five brutal years he forced me to endure. Carlton and Vivienne nodded approvingly.

Just like before, they looked at me with instant, genuine warmth. But the thought of owing Ronan anything made my stomach churn. I opened my mouth to tell him to go to hell.

Aspen burst through the doors, sobbing uncontrollably. Her faded dress hung in tatters. Fresh, bloody gashes tracked down her forearm. “Aspen!

Oh my god, are you okay?” Aspen shot me a quick, calculating glare before dropping to her knees in front of the wealthy couple. “Please! Are you here to save me?

I don't want to die! Please don't let him kill me!” I nearly scoffed. She stole my exact playbook. Luther, the director, was a sadistic monster.

I had pulled this exact stunt to save my own skin once, but Aspen? No one laid a finger on her. In our past life, watching her steal my trauma made my vision white out.

I had lunged at her, screaming, which immediately disgusted Carlton and Vivienne. Now, Ronan knew she was full of shit.

Yet, watching her bleed, his savior complex still flared up. “Who did this to you? I’ll make them pay.” Aspen flinched. She didn't want to namedrop Luther.

If they didn't take her, she would get on the director's bad side for snitching. I blinked, stepping right into the silence. “It was Luther.

The director,” I said calmly. “He has a thing for the pretty ones. Aspen is his favorite.” “That sick bastard!” Carlton’s fists trembled. “Oh, sweet girl.

Dry your eyes,” Vivienne cooed, her face twisting with pity. Ronan stood off to the side, his jaw tight. His eyes flicked to the floor. I knew that familiar, sickening shift.

The guilt trip was already over. He was choosing her. Again. “Mom, Dad. Let's take Aspen instead.” “Carlton, Vivienne. You should take her.

Toxic trash belongs together.” The harsh words cut through the silence just as Ronan asked them to take Aspen. His head snapped up, staring at me in shock.

He knew how desperately I had clawed at the walls to escape this place in our past life. But this time, I was handing over the keys to the castle.

Chapter 2 I blocked out Ronan’s suffocating, guiltridden stare. My voice came out flat, stripped of any emotion. “Carlton, Vivienne.

I want to know what it feels like to be an only child. I don't want to share a roof with anyone else. So, thank you, but I'll pass.” Carlton and Vivienne blinked.

Real disappointment pooled in their eyes. The second Aspen knew her bags were packed, she strutted right up to me.

She tilted her chin, flashing a sickeningly smug smile. “Told you so, Marlowe. You never stood a chance.” She leaned in, dropping her voice. “I'm off to live in a mansion. You?

Have fun rotting in this dump. Next time, don't be so stupid. You should've called my bluff.” She spun around and sauntered off.

The moment the doors swung shut, a tall figure stepped out from the shadows. Ronan. He looked like he’d just been gutpunched.

His entire reality—the illusion of Aspen as a fragile, innocent victim—shattered right in front of him. He stared at me. A desperate plea for help filled his eyes.

I recognized that look. He wanted me to step forward, validate his sick delusions, and tell him everything was okay. I turned my back on him and walked away. “Marlowe, wait.

I'm sorry.” His voice cracked. “You know how it is. Aspen is just a kid. She'll grow out of this toxic phase.” “Sure.” I flashed a hollow smile. It wasn't my problem anymore.

I was permanently cutting the cord with both of them. “Marlowe!” Panic spiked in his voice. He lunged forward, grabbing my wrist.

He dug frantically into his pockets, shoving a crumpled wad of bills into my palm. “Take this. Just for now. I know I screwed up. I owe you. Give me two weeks—no, five days. Three.

Give me three days, and I'll get you out of here. I swear.” “Keep it.” I shoved the cash back at his chest. “I'm coming back for you, Marlowe!

Just hold on!” He didn't stick around for my answer.

He bolted—not because he was respecting my boundaries, but because Aspen had just taken a calculated tumble by the driveway, wailing like a siren. I let out a dry, rasping laugh.

Some things never change. Thank god I had zero expectations left for that walking red flag. Aspen must have whispered pure poison in Luther’s ear before she left.

The director cracked down harder this time. The punishments escalated. The psychological torture became a suffocating, daily grind that nearly broke my sanity.

Three days bled into five. Two weeks dragged into a month. Ronan never showed up. He never came back. I didn't wait for a knight in shining armor. I let Luther corner me.

I took the hit, letting my left arm snap with a sickening crunch just to keep my hidden camera steady. I caught every second of his abuse on tape. I leaked it to Gallagher.

The cops and the local news vans swarmed the place by dawn. As Gallagher dragged Luther out in handcuffs, the courtyard went dead silent. Then, the shadows shifted.

Ryker and his crew—the boys Luther favored, the ones who got extra rations—closed in around me. “This was you, wasn't it, Marlowe?” Ryker spat, his fists clenching. “You ungrateful bitch.” “I'll kill you!” another boy screamed. “With him gone, who's going to feed us?

You want us to starve?” “Beat the life out of her! Rip her tongue out!” I curled into a tight ball, shielding my shattered arm and my skull.

Fire exploded across my ribs as the first kick landed. I knew this was coming. Ryker and his gang weren't just orphans. They were Luther's illegitimate spawn.

Of course they were going to violently defend their biological father. Ryker hoisted a jagged chunk of concrete above his head. He aimed straight for my temple.

A shadow blurred across my vision. A body slammed into mine, taking the brutal impact of the stone. Bone cracked. An agonizing scream ripped through the air.

Chapter 3 Ronan took the hit. Crimson poured down his forehead, dripping into his eyes and blinding him. He swiped the blood from his jaw with the back of his hand.

His chest heaved. A fragile, joyful smile touched his face. “I got you this time. Marlowe, I finally made it in time.” The momentary spike of panic in my chest flatlined.

Ice flooded my veins, freezing out any trace of guilt. Memories of our past life slammed into me. Little Arlo. He had been just a toddler. He had worshipped us.

Thanks to Aspen’s twisted lies, Ronan had abandoned us in the freezing mountains during a blizzard. I watched the warmth leave my baby’s tiny body.

I felt his pulse stop beneath my frozen fingers. I dragged myself through that frozen hellscape for three days, nothing more than an empty, rotting shell.

Gallagher pulled me out of the snow, but my sanity stayed buried on that mountain. I didn't just break; I went feral.

My entire existence warped into a single, bloody crusade to destroy Aspen. But Ronan, playing her eternal white knight, shielded her at every turn.

We spent decades locked in a toxic bloodbath, shredding each other to pieces.

I burned his reputation to the ground, and in retaliation, he ruthlessly severed every lifeline I had left. It only ended when he sacrificed his own legs to pull me from a wreckage.

The golden boy, crippled forever. The guilt had eaten me alive. I finally surrendered. I agreed to bury the hatchet and stay with him. Then he weaponized that sacrifice.

I remembered him sitting in that hospital bed, pale and trembling. He leveraged his own severed spine, his eyes red and pleading. “Let Aspen go, Marlowe.

Do it for my crippled legs.” It felt like all the oxygen vanished from the room. My chest hollowed out. Tears spilled hot and fast down my cheeks as I whispered, “Fine.

You win.” Now, standing in the filthy orphanage courtyard, Ronan’s grip on my wrist was ironclad.

He ignored his bleeding head. “I told you I'd protect you, Marlowe.” A violent shove sent me crashing into the dirt. Smack. Smack.

Aspen towered over me, her palm connecting fiercely with my cheek twice. “Stay away from my brother, you absolute curse!” She shrieked, her voice shrill. “He’s mine!” She dropped to her knees, immediately switching to a gentle, trembling touch as she tried to help Ronan stand. “Aspen, stop.” Ronan frowned, his voice strained. “Apologize to Marlowe right now.” On cue, the waterworks started.

Aspen wailed. And just like clockwork, Ronan caved. He couldn't handle her tears. He instantly softened, bending over backward to coax her.

I caught the sick, triumphant smirk flashing across Aspen’s tearstained face. I ignored it.

I shoved myself off the ground, brushing the gravel from my knees, and turned to walk away. “Hold it right there!

Who said you could leave?” Aspen snapped, dropping the victim act entirely. “Keep your distance from my brother. I won't let your curse rub off on him.” “Aspen!” Ronan barked.

But as I pivoted back to face them, his body moved on pure instinct. He stepped squarely in front of her, shielding her from me. It was a reflex.

He always braced for me to attack her. He conveniently forgot that I was the one bleeding, the one bruised, the one always taking the hits.

I met his gaze deadon and rattled off three specific names and a string of account numbers. Aspen blinked, her face scrunching in confusion.

The blankness quickly morphed into a venomous glare. But Ronan froze. He understood perfectly.

Those numbers marked the exact trigger point where Carlton and Vivienne’s empire started to bleed cash. I had spent years running his family’s conglomerate in our past life.

It took me countless sleepless nights and a web of backdoor connections to unearth those exact fatal leaks. “Marlowe, how do you—” His voice shook. “Thanks for taking the rock today,” I cut him off, my tone icecold. “But don't do it again.

I don't owe you a damn thing, Ronan. Stay the hell away from me.” Ronan’s mouth parted, but no sound came out. The color drained from his face completely.

He looked like I had just gutted him. He honestly thought the girl who worshipped him in our last life would fall right back into his arms.

He never expected me to burn the bridge while he was still standing on it. Chapter 4 Luther was locked away five years early.

The rest of the kids and I were spared another five years of suffering. In my past life, they had bullied me just as often as they protected me. But now?

Now they tasted the perks of my rebellion. They swarmed me. They worshipped the ground I walked on, desperate to stay in my good graces. And Ryker’s crew?

They became the new punching bags. I watched them get shoved into the dirt with immense satisfaction. I never let a grudge go. A month later, Ronan finally showed up.

He looked frantic, out of breath. He claimed Aspen had been sick, that he was so caught up playing nurse he couldn't find the time to visit.

He dropped his gaze, muttering a pathetic apology. Classic Ronan. Tossing me aside for Aspen, then throwing me a few breadcrumbs of affection to keep me hooked.

A carrot dangling on a string for a stubborn, starving mule. “Marlowe, I found you a school. I even found a family willing to take you in.” “Pass.

Thanks.” I kept my tone polite but strictly professional. The state had already placed us in the local public high school anyway. But luck was a bitch.

Aspen and I were dumped into the exact same homeroom. It took less than three days.

Three days for Tucker and the entire junior class to hear the rumor that I tried to sleep with Luther to get better rations. Guys like Tucker would saunter by and snap my bra strap.

The girls glared at me like I was radioactive waste. It didn't take long for the nicknames to start. The school passaround. The whispers followed me down every hallway.

All carefully orchestrated by Aspen. My eyes flicked to the calendar pinned to the wall. Marshall and Cecilia. My real, biological parents.

I had spent weeks secretly tracking them down, and they were finally due to land on US soil to pull me out of this nightmare any day now.

With my safety net finally secured, I stopped playing nice.

During passing period, a heavy plastic pencil case slammed into the back of my skull. “Nice new shirt, you passaround!” Aspen sneered, her voice carrying over the chatter. “Which guy did you have to blow to afford that one?” Tucker and the rest of her little clique erupted into hyena laughter. “God, she's so pathetic.” I pushed my chair back.

The metal legs screeched against the linoleum. I crossed the room in three strides. Aspen smirked, tilting her chin up to meet my gaze.

I grabbed a fistful of her expensive blowout and dragged her to the filthy janitor's bucket in the hall, slamming her facefirst into the murky water. “Ah! Get off me!

Let me go!” “Your mouth is filthy,” I snarled, pressing her head deeper. “Thought I’d help you wash it. You and I both crawled out of the same gutter, Aspen!

Luther targeted you first. I took the hits for you. I protected you! And now you gaslight everyone into thinking I'm the predator?

You ungrateful little bitch!” “No—gargle—no!” Aspen gasped. The murky, chemicallaced mop water flooded her open mouth. I didn't stop.

I fired off every single secret she tried to bury. I shouted out how she manipulated Tucker to turn on his own friends.

I exposed the vile text messages she sent about her own clique. I revealed how she fabricated the harassment claim that forced Nelson, our last homeroom teacher, to resign.

The laughter died. The classroom went dead silent. Nobody stepped forward to pull me off her. Tucker exchanged a heavy look with the girl next to him. Whispers erupted.

Timelines matched up. The pieces clicked into place. They realized every word I spat was the absolute truth. No one was laughing at me anymore.

The vindication tasted sweeter than blood. “Marlowe, let her go!” A heavy weight slammed into my spine. My boots lost traction on the wet floor. I crashed hard to the ground.

My healing left arm took the entire brutal impact. Crack. Whitehot agony ripped through my shoulder. My stomach heaved. Cold sweat coated my skin. The bone had snapped again.

Ronan hauled Aspen out of the bucket. He turned back, his eyes dropping to my twisted arm. The protective fury in his gaze vanished, replaced by a profound regret.

Aspen choked out a hysterical sob, her wet nails digging into his jacket. “Ronan, get her expelled! Make them kick her out!” He couldn't tear his eyes away from my trembling body.

But his mouth moved on pure reflex. “Okay. I promise.” Chapter 5 I let out a dry, rattling scoff. “Classic.

You're just as pathetic as you've always been, Ronan.” Ronan dropped his gaze. “You started this, Marlowe. But it's fine. I'll make it up to you. I promise.” “Don't bother.

Because I—” Nelson burst through the classroom door. He didn't even notice the blood, the dirty water, or the dead silence in the room.

He was practically vibrating with excitement. “Marlowe! They're here! Your biological parents are here!

They're taking you out of the country to live with them permanently!” “Out of the country?” Ronan’s head snapped up. Panic hijacked his features. “Your biological parents?

Taking you away? No. No, that's impossible. I won't allow it!” I ignored his spiraling meltdown.

I scrambled off the wet linoleum, clutching my shattered arm, and pushed past him toward Nelson. “Marlowe, wait!” He grabbed my broken left arm. “Ah!” He flinched, dropping my arm instantly like he'd been burned.

He reached out again, frantically wrapping his fingers around my uninjured right wrist. Pathetic desperation flooded his eyes. “Don't leave, Marlowe. Please.

I swear I'll protect you from now on. I won't let Aspen touch you ever again.” I froze.

The air left my lungs. “So you knew?” I whispered. “You always knew exactly who was bullying who?” Ronan swallowed hard.

His gaze dropped to the floor. “Yes.” A hollow, jagged laugh ripped from my chest. Bile rose in my throat. My vision blurred at the edges. He knew. He knew every single time.

Every time he played the clueless peacemaker. Every time he stood over me, demanding I apologize to Aspen. Every time he watched her tear me apart. “Marlowe, I just—” Smack.

My palm connected with his jaw. The sharp crack echoed off the cinderblock walls, silencing his pathetic excuses. Aspen shrieked from the bucket. “You hit him!

You filthy passaround! Keep your hands off my brother!” I pivoted. I drove my boot straight into the back of her knee. She collapsed with a heavy thud. Right in front of Ronan.

Right in front of Tucker and the entire class.

I twisted my fingers into her roots and slammed her face right back into the murky water. “I warned you,” I hissed, the adrenaline masking the throbbing in my broken arm. “Your mouth is toxic.

If you don't learn to shut it, I won't just wash it out next time. I'll rip it right off your face.” Aspen sobbed hysterically.

She choked on the grey water, screaming for Ronan to save her. Ronan didn't move a muscle. He just stood there, a frozen, useless shadow in the corner.

Until the hallway double doors banged open. “My baby! Oh my god, my baby!” “Marlowe! We're here, sweetheart. Mom and Dad are here!” The adrenaline flatlined.

Every muscle in my body gave out. My fingers uncurled. Aspen dropped to the wet tiles, gasping for air. I turned around. Marshall and Cecilia.

I only knew their faces from the blackandwhite obituaries in my past life. They had spent every waking second searching for me.

In my previous life, they had died in a brutal wreck a year from this exact moment.

By the time my private investigators finally tracked them down in that timeline, they had been buried for a decade.

The police report said they died with a crinkled missingchild flyer clutched in the passenger seat. Our eyes locked. The world stopped spinning. There was no need for a DNA test.

It was like looking into a mirror. Cecilia and I shared the exact same bone structure, the same haunting eyes. Cecilia’s gaze dropped to my twisted, dangling left arm.

A gutwrenching sob tore from her throat. She sprinted toward me. Her designer heels caught on a scattered textbook. She went down hard. She scrambled up. She fell again.

Three times she hit the linoleum in the space of twenty feet. She didn't care about the bruises. She didn't care about the mud.

She finally reached me, her hands hovering inches from my bruised face, tears streaming down her cheeks. “My baby. My beautiful girl.” Her voice completely shattered. “Thank god.

I finally found you. I found you.” Chapter 6 Marshall strode over, enveloping Cecilia and me in a desperate, crushing embrace. Cecilia broke. The poised facade crumbled completely.

She buried her face in my shoulder, her fingers digging frantically into my back. “I'm so sorry.

We looked into what happened to you… oh god, Marlowe, the things you survived,” she choked out, her whole body shaking. “We were too late.

We were so damn late.” I wrapped my good arm around her waist. “You're not late. You're exactly on time.” A wet, gasping sob shattered the moment.

Aspen stood in the doorway, drenched in mop water, playing the fragile, shattered victim.

She bypassed me entirely and zeroed in on my parents. “Please, you can't trust her!” Aspen wailed, fake tears mixing with the grime on her cheeks. “Marlowe is a pathological liar.

Back at the orphanage, she was sleeping with the fortysomething director. She terrorized everyone! Look at what she just did to me!

You look like such kind people, please reconsider. She's a literal curse. She ruins everyone she touches—ah!” I didn't say a word. I just lunged. My fingers locked into her scalp.

I slammed her skull straight into the closest cinderblock wall. Three times. Maximum force. The flesh tore. Blood beaded along her cheekbone. “Ah! Stop! Somebody help me!

Please, save me!” I paused, my grip still twisted tight in Aspen's hair. I cut my eyes sideways, scanning Marshall and Cecilia's reactions. This was a test.

In my past life, blind trust had cost me everything. I wanted these parents, but I needed to know if they would flinch at the monster I had become. The verdict hit me instantly.

Cecilia straightened up. The weeping, grieving mother vanished.

Absolute ice replaced the warmth in her eyes. “Aspen, right?” Her voice was lethal. “You're the little bitch who stole my daughter's adoption and then spent the last month gaslighting this entire school about her.” Marshall stepped in, pulling me firmly against his chest.

His hand rubbed a steady rhythm onto my uninjured shoulder. “Perfect timing,” he said, his tone chillingly calm. “Kensington will be here in thirty minutes.

Our lawyers are going to have a very long chat with the administration and your adoptive parents about this harassment.” Aspen froze. All the color drained from her bleeding face.

She had played the innocent, traumatized angel flawlessly for Carlton and Vivienne.

If her new, billionaire parents found out she was the villain of the story… She lunged forward, reaching frantically for my shattered left arm.

I stepped back, dodging her grip. “Marlowe, I'm sorry! I messed up!” Genuine panic cracked her voice now. “Please, we came from the same place! Just let this go.

Cut me some slack, please!” I didn't answer. I just stared past her shoulder.

Aspen followed my gaze. “Ronan?!” Her breathing hitched. “How… how long have you been standing there?” “He saw the whole show,” I stated flatly, answering for him. “What?!” Aspen’s eyes went wide.

She forced fresh tears, falling back on her triedandtrue manipulation tactics. “Ronan, listen to me, you don't understand! I was terrified!

The orphanage ruined me, I just wanted to survive!” In the past, that specific script would have brought him to his knees. He would have bled for her. Not today.

He walked right past her. He didn't even look down. He stopped inches from me. “Marlowe,” Ronan rasped, his eyes fixed desperately on mine. “Congratulations on finding your parents.

But… are you really leaving the country?” Chapter 7 I looked at Marshall and Cecilia. They hung on my every word. The choice was entirely mine. Ronan’s face lit up.

A desperate, trembling hope ignited in his eyes. He leaned in, practically vibrating. He was waiting for me to stay. To absolve him.

I let a slow smile curve my lips. “Of course…” He exhaled, his shoulders dropping in relief. “…I'm getting as far away from this hellhole as possible,” I stated coldly, cutting him down instantly. “Every brick in this place makes me sick.

And the people? Even worse.” The color drained from Ronan's face. His knees buckled. He hit the linoleum hard, staring up at me like I'd just gutted him. “Marlowe… I'm sorry.

I ruined everything…” Ice filled my veins. I wanted him to hear every single syllable. The sheer audacity of this guy.

After a lifetime of throwing me to the wolves, he actually thought he could crawl back with a pathetic apology and play the hero. He actually thought I would stay.

In my past life, I was a starving orphan. I bled for his family's empire just to scrape together a future. Not this time.

Marshall and Cecilia owned a conglomerate that could swallow Carlton's entire business whole. I was finally taking back the life that was stolen from me. I pivoted.

I let my shoulders slump, perfectly projecting a fragile exhaustion. I cradled my shattered left arm against my ribs, wincing. “Mom. Dad. Ronan grabbed my arm earlier.

I think he broke it again. It's burning. Can we please just go to the hospital?” Panic seized Cecilia's face. “Oh my god. Yes.

We're leaving right now.” Marshall wrapped his arm around my good shoulder, his jaw tight. “Why didn't you say something sooner? I'm so sorry, sweetheart.

We're getting Gunnar's team on this immediately—a private physician, a nutritionist, whatever you need.” He kept rattling off plans as he guided me out.

A strange warmth bloomed in my chest. The suffocating emptiness started to recede. So this was what it felt like. Pure, unconditional protection.

It felt so good I didn't even notice the shadow outside.

Not until I slipped into the backseat of the Bentley and caught Ronan in the rearview mirror, standing in the distance, watching our car pull away. Kensington didn't play games.

Marshall’s lawyer presented a batch of evidence, demanding an explanation from Carlton, Vivienne, and Aspen. Vivienne looked physically ill. “Aspen?

How could you do something so vile? We only took you in because of Marlowe!” Carlton’s face turned to stone. He adjusted his glasses, his icy glare pinning Aspen to her seat.

She trembled, curling into herself like a cornered rat. “Aspen,” Carlton's voice cut through the silence. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” “I'm sorry!

I'm so sorry, Mom, Dad!” Aspen choked out, the fake tears flowing instantly. “I know I messed up! Please give me another chance