Reborn to Ruin:My Sister's Toxic Choice

Everleigh climbed into the suspicious, unmarked black van. Ecstasy stretched across her face.

She actually thought a mysterious billionaire sat inside, ready to hand her a golden ticket to the upper class. In my past life, I risked everything to drag her out of there.

Her reward? She hated me for shattering her highsociety delusions. She even poisoned my oneyearold daughter to death. Now, the two men inside the van yanked her in.

This time, a cold smile tipped the corner of my mouth. I stepped back and let the crowd swallow me. Chapter 1 My eyes snapped open.

Everleigh’s back was facing me, her head swiveling as she scanned the area. I narrowed my eyes. My nails dug into my palms until the skin turned white.

A black van with heavily tinted windows idled in the shadows. She rushed forward and knocked on the metal door three times. The door slid open.

Two burly, heavily tattooed thugs grabbed her arms and hauled her inside. In my last life, I thought my little sister was being trafficked.

I screamed until my throat went raw, drew a massive crowd, and dragged her away from them. Panic had blinded me back then.

I completely missed the bizarre, twisted expression on her face. Everleigh hated me for decades. She didn’t just murder my baby.

She laced my daily medication with poison for years, until my organs failed. My body withered into a hollow shell.

After she stabbed me and reduced me to a comatose vegetable, she visited my hospital bed every single day.

She leaned over my ear, whispering her curses and flaunting her pictureperfect family.

Every year, she dragged her kid into my hospital room to celebrate birthdays right next to my life support machine. Five years of that torture.

My lungs finally gave out, and I drew my last breath. It wasn't until the day I died that the truth hit me. I finally understood why Everleigh was so desperate to get into that van.

It was a meticulously calculated ascension plan. Since childhood, she genuinely believed she was the chosen one.

She was convinced she didn't belong in our middleclass home and refused to live an ordinary life.

She even convinced herself she was switched at birth, but as she grew older, her face mirrored our father's more and more. Reality set in, but it only birthed a new, twisted scheme.

It didn't matter if she was born into the working class. Destiny could be stolen with the right tactics. The men inside that van were real human traffickers.

Everleigh had contacted them herself. She offered herself up on a silver platter, volunteering to be kidnapped.

She only had one condition: they had to sell her to a filthy rich family. The traffickers agreed without hesitation. And today was the final step of her master plan.

In my previous life, Everleigh believed I ruined her grand plan. She believed I ruined her entire life. Her hatred for me chewed straight through her bones.

I watched the van's taillights disappear around the corner. A cold smirk stretched across my face. I spun on my heel and dissolved into the sea of tourists.

In this life, I’d let her chase her ultimate dream. I couldn't wait to see exactly what kind of mansion those thugs dropped her in. Ten minutes passed. Everleigh didn't return.

Mom and Dad started to panic. They swept the public restrooms and came out emptyhanded. The blood drained from their faces.

Twenty minutes later, we had scoured the entire national park. No sign of her. Mom's knees buckled. Dad dialed 911.

Unfortunately, security cameras at tourist spots were absolute garbage decades ago. The grainy footage only showed Everleigh walking toward the restrooms. She never came out.

I was the only one who knew the truth. She crawled out the bathroom window. She took a massive detour and slipped through a back gate that didn't have any cameras.

The area was completely overgrown with weeds, seeing zero tourist traffic. She had scouted that exact pickup spot ages ago. Besides, the park was packed.

Nobody was going to notice one remarkably averagelooking girl. We searched until dusk. Nothing. Mom collapsed twice.

Dad chainsmoked one cigarette after another, his hands shaking violently as he looked at me. "This is my fault.

Why didn't I watch her closer?" he muttered, his eyes red and bloodshot. "Genevieve, I lost your sister." He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders heaving with violent sobs.

A cold sweat broke out across my forehead. This wasn't going to work. I couldn't let that absolute monster drag my family down with her.

Chapter 2 That night, I dragged my feet toward my parents. Tears streamed down my face. My breath hitched in my throat, choking out my words.

Mom instantly wrapped her arms around me, her thumbs gently wiping the wetness from my cheeks. "Oh, sweetie, do you miss your sister?" she asked. "It's our fault.

Are you blaming Mommy for losing Everleigh?" I shook my head violently and buried my face into her chest, sobs wrecking my small frame. "I already lost my sister, and I can't lose you and Dad too." My fingers dug into her shirt. "I'm so scared of losing you.

Please don't leave me!" The words hit them like a bucket of ice water. A harsh wakeup call. They suddenly realized they didn't just have Everleigh.

They still had an eightyearold daughter standing right in front of them, desperate for their unconditional love and care. The next morning, the heavy, suffocating gloom lifted.

Three days later, we packed up and went home. They never blamed themselves in front of me again.

Instead, they channeled all that crushing guilt into showering me with double the affection. Dad weaponized his guilt and turned it into relentless corporate aggression.

He caught the tech boom, founded a startup, and steamrolled his way straight to ringing the bell at the NASDAQ.

We moved out of our cramped, rundown apartment and straight into a sprawling hilltop estate complete with an infinity pool and a private golf course.

I became a bona fide billionaire heiress, armed with a massive trust fund and a walkin closet dripping in haute couture. I was only thirteen.

I sank into my ultraplush kingsized bed and let out a genuine laugh. I couldn't help but wonder what kind of miserable life Everleigh was living right now.

What kind of face would she make if she knew her family had struck it filthy rich?

The ordinary life she was so desperate to escape had morphed into the exact billionaire fantasy she had lusted after. None of this happened in my past life.

Back then, after we brought Everleigh home, my parents just kept grinding away at their deadend corporate jobs.

They lived as ordinary corporate slaves, and we lived a painfully average life. I smoothed my hand over the silk of my customtailored designer dress.

Turns out, Everleigh was the toxic parasite draining our family's luck. The moment we cut her loose, we skyrocketed to the top one percent.

The memory of my organs failing and my pathetic death in my past life burned in my mind, pushing my body to the absolute limit.

I mastered kickboxing, mixed martial arts, swimming, and pilates, while diving into health sciences, nutrition, and pharmacology.

I hired elite private tutors for every single discipline, and naturally, my academic grades never slipped either.

Mom and Dad watched me grind like a maniac, their eyes swimming with concern. "Genevieve, we have more money than we could ever spend, so you don't have to push yourself this hard," Mom said, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "We can support you for the rest of your life.

We just want you to be happy and carefree." I flashed them a bright, perfectly innocent smile. "Mom, I am happy." After closing a few massive acquisitions, Dad's schedule finally opened up.

But even while spending more time with me, he never gave up the search for Everleigh.

They poured millions into nationwide missingperson ads across all major networks and digital platforms. The bounty was staggering.

Anyone providing a verified tip got a cool five grand. Anyone who actually found her and brought her back would walk away with a twomilliondollar reward.

The news blew up across the city, turning into an absolute madhouse. Scavengers practically broke down our estate's front gates every single day trying to claim the cash.

Dad’s wealth had reached a truly jawdropping level. He didn’t even care if the leads were fake anymore.

As long as someone provided a crumb of information, he’d write them a onethousanddollar check on the spot.

The tabloids practically threw a parade for him, dubbing him the "Walking Charity ATM." To be fair, not everyone was a total grifter.

A few people claimed they spotted the black van that day, but their memories were too blurry to be useful. Dad brushed them off. And me? My lips were sealed tighter than a vault.

Chapter 3 Two years passed. God knows how many millions Dad had burned through. We still had zero solid leads, and Mom was losing her patience.

She slammed her coffee mug onto the marble counter. "These people are nothing but leeches! Every single tip is fake!

We haven't found our daughter, but we sure are throwing away a fortune on these rats!" Just as my parents were about to pivot their strategy, a bald man showed up at our estate's front door.

One glance. That was all it took. I immediately recognized the driver of that black van.

Ten years had passed, but his face hadn't changed a bit, still maintaining that same sleazy, calculating ratlike structure. He licked his chapped lips. "Mr.

CEO, I think I know where your daughter is." Dad waved his hand dismissively, gesturing for him to spit it out.

Every scammer who walked through our doors used the exact same opening line.

The man flashed a sickeningly sweet, ingratiating smile. "I think I saw your youngest daughter while I was doing some construction work up in Baltimore.

But since she was so young when she went missing, I can't be a hundred percent sure it's her. How about I take a trip up there and dig around?

If I find her, I'll text you, but about the travel expenses…" Dad gave a halfhearted hum, his eyes glued to his tablet screen. "I already made my offer clear.

Bring my daughter back, and you get the twomilliondollar reward." The man rubbed his greasy hands together, snatched his fivethousanddollar check, and scrambled out.

My parents completely dismissed him since Baltimore was over two thousand miles away from the national park where Everleigh vanished. But I knew the absolute truth.

That bald rat wasn't lying. Everleigh was definitely in Baltimore. But did he really think he was getting that two million? In his wildest dreams.

A filthy human trafficker didn't deserve a single cent.

I immediately wired a massive retainer to an elite private investigator firm, ordering them to locate Everleigh in Baltimore within a week. They were ruthlessly efficient.

Three days later, a secure file of highres photos dropped into my inbox. The second I opened the attachment, I laughed so hard my ribs ached. Oh, Everleigh.

Is this the glamorous highsociety life you threw everything away for?

In the first photo, Everleigh was scrubbed in a filthy uniform, plunging a clogged toilet in some rundown diner. I swiped to the next slide.

Everleigh sat at a greasy dining table, choking down the cheapest brand of microwave mac and cheese mixed with expired canned goods.

Right in the center of the table sat a freshly grilled Tomahawk steak.

But that was strictly the exclusive dinner for the obese biological son of the family that bought her, and she couldn't even touch the meat scraps.

The investigator's report detailed everything. A barren, whitetrash couple bought her from the traffickers because they couldn't afford a boy. The irony?

Two years after they dragged Everleigh into their dump, they miraculously got pregnant and popped out a son.

I wiped away a perfectly dry, nonexistent tear from the corner of my eye. "My sister has suffered so much.

Oh, my poor, pathetic little sister." The investigator added that Everleigh dropped out of school years ago.

Her "adoptive" parents forced her to work grueling shifts at the diner to pay rent. The P.I. paused over the phone, hesitating before delivering the final blow.

I tapped my manicured nails against the mahogany desk, silently prompting him to keep going. "Your sister… she seems to have a boyfriend." A boyfriend?

What was so hard to say about that? But the moment I loaded the final photo, a genuine snort escaped my lips.

The socalled boyfriend was a sixtysomething widower from a squalid trailer park, sporting a mouth full of rotting yellow teeth.

In the picture, his calloused, greasy hands were shamelessly groping Everleigh's waist.

The investigator told me this old creep played the big spender using his meager social security checks, and Everleigh was so desperate she threw herself at him just to score a few pieces of cheap rhinestone jewelry.

I wired the investigator double his asking price and ordered absolute silence. My parents couldn't know a thing. The bald trafficker was already on his way to Baltimore.

It was only a matter of time before he dragged her back. That night, I stood in front of my vanity mirror and squeezed half a bottle of eye drops into my eyes.

I needed to make damn sure I looked utterly devastated.

Chapter 4 Mom immediately dropped her goldrimmed bone china fork and pulled me into a tight hug. "Oh, my sweetheart, who dared to upset you? Tell Mommy.

I'll have your father's elite legal team sue them into absolute bankruptcy!" I bit my lower lip and carefully slid the stack of photos across the mahogany dining table. "Mom, Dad… I found Everleigh.

It's… it's just so awful." I deliberately kept the photo of the old man groping her hidden in my pocket. Just as I predicted, one glance was all it took.

Their eyes instantly swam with red. Mom furiously wiped at her tears, her voice shattering as she cried, "This is our fault.

We failed Everleigh." Right then and there, they decided to drive straight to Baltimore at dawn.

As I pushed my chair back to head upstairs, my hand "slipped." The hidden photo fluttered onto the Persian rug.

Dad pointed it out, and I scrambled to pick it up, putting on a frantic, clumsy show.

In my fake panic, the glossy image landed perfectly faceup, right in their direct line of sight. "Mom, Dad, wait—there has to be an explanation!" I stammered, shielding the photo. "Please don't judge her for this!" The color drained from Dad's face.

If there was one thing he despised, it was parasites who sold their dignity for a quick buck.

Everleigh might be broke, but she was young, ablebodied, and perfectly capable of earning an honest living. Mom pressed her lips into a thin line.

She opened her mouth to defend her, but no words came out. The photographic evidence was damning. Everleigh was beaming, her entire body plastered against the wrinkly old creep.

I hurriedly snatched the photo and shoved it out of sight.

I grabbed Dad's sleeve, stuttering out a desperate defense. "She was just pushed into a corner, her life has been absolute hell!" I sobbed. "That's the only reason she made a mistake like this.

I know she can change!" Dad didn't say a single word. His jaw ticked, the muscles clenching so hard it looked painful.

He slammed his silver fork onto the table with a sharp clack. "We're picking Everleigh up tomorrow." I knew exactly what was going on in their heads.

The guilt of losing her still festered like an infected wound. The heartbreak was just barely masking the sheer disgust.

Back in my room, I sprawled across my kingsized bed, idly flicking the glossy edge of the photo against my thumb.

I really hoped tomorrow’s little reunion would put on a spectacular show.

Bright and early the next morning, Dad took the wheel of the Bentley and pointed it straight toward Baltimore.

The tension in the car was suffocating, and Mom was completely speechless.

One second she was frantically smoothing her hair, the next she was picking imaginary lint off her designer blouse.

Her phone screen constantly flashed with Google searches: How to talk to your kidnapped daughter after ten years. Dad stayed dead silent, eyes locked on the highway.

He only broke the silence to ask if I was hungry or needed a pit stop. A pit stop? Absolutely.

I stalled the drive perfectly, calculating the exact minute the diner would flip its open sign to closed.

But I couldn't push it too late, or Everleigh would be back at her whitetrash adoptive parents' dump.

After a grueling crosscountry drive, we pulled up to the greasy diner just past nine at night. Dad clicked his tongue against his teeth. "It's closed. We missed her.

Let's just head straight to the adoptive parents' house." Mom grabbed his suit jacket sleeve.

Her shaking finger pointed toward a dim, flickering light spilling from the back alley kitchen door. Her voice cracked. "There's still a light on in the back.

Is our Everleigh still in there scrubbing floors?" she wailed. "Oh, she's suffered so much!

That manager is an absolute monster, bullying a little girl and forcing her to work completely alone this late at night!" I instantly chimed in, swiping at my own eyes to play along.

If you listened closely, you could hear muffled voices drifting through the cracked back door. She definitely wasn't alone.

They immediately marched toward the alley to check it out. Mom pushed the heavy metal door open first. The harsh fluorescent light revealed a shock of greasy, thinning white hair.

The old man had Everleigh pinned flat against a stainlesssteel prep table, mashing his mouth aggressively against hers.

His calloused, liverspotted hands were shoved deep up her uniform shirt, aggressively groping her bare skin. Chapter 5