Reborn Heiress: Escaping My Contract Marriage with the Cold CEO Chapter 52: Killing Fiona. Again

NATHAN JANG

I kept my hand in my pocket, fingers wrapped around the dagger’s hilt. The tal felt unusually cold against my palm.

Fiona’s lips trembled—not from sadness, but rage. "You’re making a mistake."

"No," I said. "I’m correcting one."

I could do it now. One quick motion.

But not here. Not with witnesses.

I grabbed her wrist, pulling her across the lobby to an empty conference room. Before we got to the door, she yanked free. Stumbled back.

"Where are you taking ?"

"To have a chat."

She spun on her heel and ran, heels clattering as she fled.

I had no idea where she was going, but I knew she’d turn up again. She couldn’t resist the ga. Seduce . Hurt Vanessa. Rinse and repeat.

"Let’s get Vanessa and et the clerk. I’ll feel better once Vanessa and I get our marriage license."

Malone followed as we headed toward the private elevator to my suite. His phone buzzed. He frowned at the screen. "Boss."

I didn’t like his tone. "What?"

"Fiona just entered the penthouse."

Ice flooded my veins. Vanessa was still up there.

"What? How?" I was already moving. "Never mind. Lock down the building."

Malone barked orders into his phone as we sprinted. The doors slid shut behind us, and I jamd the button for the top floor.

"She shouldn’t have access," Malone muttered.

"She shouldn’t," I agreed. "But she does."

Because Fiona always found a way.

The elevator climbed too slowly. My fingers twitched around the dagger. Kill her. End this.

The doors opened.

The penthouse was the kind of silent that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

"Vanessa?" I called.

No answer.

I moved down the hall, Malone at my back. The bedroom door was ajar.

I pushed it open.

The bed was empty. Sheets rumpled. Vanessa’s phone lay on the nightstand.

Malone cursed. "Where the hell is she?"

My grip on the dagger tightened.

The balcony doors were open, curtains fluttering in the night wind.

And there, silhouetted against the dark sky, stood Fiona.

Vanessa knelt at her feet, gagged, wrists bound behind her back. A knife glinted in Fiona’s hand, pressed to Vanessa’s throat.

"Nathan," Fiona sang. "You’re late."

I stepped forward, pulse roaring. "Let her go."

Fiona tilted her head. "Or what?"

I removed the dagger from my pocket. Fiona looked at the weapon and smirked. "I’ll kill her before you can kill ."

Vanessa’s eyes locked onto mine. Not pleading. Not afraid. Angry.

Fiona sighed. "You always choose her." She pressed the blade harder. A thin line of red appeared on Vanessa’s skin. "Why?"

I looked at Malone and tipped my head. He took the hint, drawing his gun and shooting Fiona in the shoulder. Her knife went flying as she was thrown backwards against the railing.

Vanessa jumped to her feet and got the hell away from Fiona.

Fiona grabbed her shoulder, blood leaking through her fingers. She stared at as I walked toward her. Her gaze dropped to the dagger in my hand, its strange markings glowing faintly.

Fiona’s eyes widened. "Wh-what are you doing?"

"Getting rid of you. Good-bye, Fiona. Let’s never et again."

I drove the blade into her chest.

Fiona grunted and then, gasping, slumped to the balcony floor. A strange, inky darkness spread from the dagger, crawling up her skin like veins.

She dissolved.

Not like dying. Like erasing. Her body crumbled into shadows, then into nothing. The dagger clattered to the ground, its glow fading.

Silence.

Malone had untied Vanessa. She ripped the gag off, breathing hard. "What the hell was that?"

The wind howled across the penthouse balcony, carrying with it the distant hum of the city below.

Vanessa staggered to her feet, rubbing her wrists where the bindings had left deep red marks. Her blonde hair was tangled, her eyes wild with fury and confusion. She kicked Fiona’s fallen knife away, sending it skittering away.

"Nathan, what just happened?" asked Vanessa.

"Karma," I answered.

Fiona was gone. Not dead. Gone. Like she had never existed. No body. Just... absence.

Vanessa grabbed my arm. "Where did you get that thing?"

"Gregory Savage."

"Dead Gregory Savage? The actor from the 1940s?"

"Yes." I t her wide-eyed gaze. "I didn’t know what the blade would do, only that Gregory Savage said the only way we could..." I trailed off. "Baby, you’re taking all of this particularly well."

"I might’ve rembered our rebirths," she said. "Surprise!"

I wasn’t that surprised. Our lives--all of them--had gotten crazy. "Savage said that killing Fiona with that knife was the only way to reset our lives to the mont before Fiona stabbed you in the first life."

"And you believed the dead guy?"

"It’s the least weird thing that’s happened to recently," I said. "It wouldn’t even make my Top Ten Crazy Shit list at this point."

"So when do we go back to the beginning?"

I looked down at the dagger. "I don’t know."

Malone inspected the spot where Fiona had vanished. He crouched, running a hand over the smooth marble. "No residue. No trace. It’s like she was—"

"Deleted," I finished.

I suddenly felt dizzy. Nauseous. Weird. The balcony tilted. Or was that ?

No ti to figure it out because the world ripped apart.

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NATHAN JANG

The world snapped back into focus with a dizzying rush of color and sound.

Music pulsed through the grand ballroom—a lively string quartet weaving through laughter and clinking glasses. Golden light spilled from crystal chandeliers, glinting off champagne flutes and the delicate silverware of the five-course al being served. The scent of roses and vanilla filled the air, thick and intoxicating.

I blinked, disoriented.

One mont, I had been standing on the penthouse balcony with Vanessa. The next—

I was here.

At our wedding reception.

Vanessa’s fingers tightened around mine, her grip warm and real. I turned to her, heart hamring. She was radiant in her ivory gown, her blonde hair swept into an elegant updo, loose tendrils framing her face. But her eyes—wide, startled—mirrored my own confusion.

"Nathan," she breathed. "Did we just—"

"Reset," I finished.

It had worked.

The dagger had done exactly what Savage promised. We were back—not to the mont before Fiona killed Vanessa the first ti, but further. To our wedding day. To the beginning of this life.

And Fiona was gone.

Really gone.

A shudder of relief rolled through .

Vanessa exhaled sharply, then—unexpectedly—laughed. A bright, disbelieving sound. "Well," she said, leaning into , "I guess this ans we actually get to enjoy our wedding day."

I grinned, pulling her closer. "Damn right we do."

The reception was in full swing. Guests mingled, toasting, dancing, chatting. No one seed to notice our montary disorientation. To them, nothing had changed.

But everything had.

No Fiona. No looming threat. No curse hanging over us.

Just... us.

Malone appeared at my side, his usual stoic expression softened. He held out two flutes of champagne. "Boss. Boss Lady."

Vanessa took the glass with a smirk. "I could get used to that."

I clinked my glass against hers. "To new beginnings."

Her gaze locked onto mine. "To our beginning."

We drank.

The night unfolded in a blur of joy—real, unfiltered, safe joy. We danced. We laughed. We stole kisses between toasts, my hands skimming the curve of her waist, her fingers tracing the line of my jaw.

At one point, I spun her onto the balcony, away from the crowd. The night air was cool, the city lights sprawling below us like scattered stars.

Vanessa pressed her back against the railing, pulling to her. "Tell this is real," she murmured.

I cradled her face, thumb brushing her cheek. "It’s real."

She kissed then, deep and lingering, her lips soft against mine. When she pulled back, her eyes sparkled. "Good. Because I’m not letting you go."

I didn’t answer with words. Instead, I kissed her again. My hands cradled her face, thumbs brushing her cheeks as her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling closer. The world beyond us dissolved, leaving only the warmth of her lips, the hitch of her breath, the way she lted against as if we were two halves finally made whole.

We stayed like that for a long mont, wrapped in each other, in the quiet certainty that we’d get our happily-ever-after.

When we finally pulled apart, her smile was radiant, her eyes shimring with unshed tears of joy. I pressed my forehead to hers, breathing her in, morizing the way this felt—perfect, inevitable.

Eventually, we returned to the reception, hands entwined, fingers laced like they were always ant to be. The night stretched on, sweet and endless, filled with stolen glances and secret touches—each one a silent reminder of the love we had for each other.

Malone found us later, his expression grim. "Boss," he said, his voice low. "We have a problem."

I tensed. "What now?"

"I just got word," said Malone. "Grandpa Belmont never made it ho from the ceremony."

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Thank you for reading Volu 1 of Reborn Heiress: Escaping My Contract Marriage with the Cold CEO. Keeping reading for Volu 2, the next romance adventure for Nathan Jang and Vanessa Belmont. Smooches!

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