Reborn at 8: Making the Alpha Billionaire My Stepdad

My mother, Celine, was the ultimate high-maintenance socialite. Growing up, I was the one always picking up her pieces.

Yet, when my father's mistress lunged at me with a kitchen knife, Celine threw herself in front of the blade. Without a single hesitation.

Then I blinked open my eyes.

I was eight years old again.

She tapped her freshly done acrylics on the kitchen counter, barking orders at me to make her dinner.

I kept my mouth shut and whipped up an extravagant eight-course spread.

She stared at the massive spread, horrified. "Did you poison this?"

I dropped a bite of food onto her plate and met her eyes. "I approve of you dating Donovan."

Chapter 1

I was left completely speechless. I quietly slid a gleaming silver fork across the table to her.

She eyed me with deep suspicion. "What did you break, kid?"

I hesitated for a split second, then snatched the fork right back out of her grip.

She nodded, a knowing smirk twisting her lips. "I knew it. You're just messing with me."

I threw my arms wide open. "Hug me, Mom."

Celine flinched. She stared at me like I had grown a second head, pure skepticism written all over her beautiful face. After a long beat, she poked my cheek with a stiletto nail. "What are you babbling about? Go fetch me my collagen water."

My lower lip trembled. I wanted to cry. A massive, painful lump lodged in my throat.

She froze. Panic flashed in her eyes as she frantically yanked a handful of napkins from the dispenser and threw them at my face. "Whatwhat are you doing? Trying to guilt-trip me?"

Right then, the heavy front doors of the mansion swung open. A tall, broad-shouldered silhouette stood framed in the backlight.

All sound in the room died.

I watched him quietly for a long moment before my voice finally broke the silence. "Dad."

Celine shot Dominic a sideways glance, snatched the fork back from my hand, and casually took a bite of her food.

Dominic strode inside, his energy ice-cold, heading straight for the second-floor study. As he passed the dining table, his footsteps faltered for a fraction of a second. "You don't need to attend the gala tonight."

Clack. Celine slammed her fork against the marble tabletop. She let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "And who exactly are you taking instead?"

My mother was breathtaking. Before she got married, she was the undisputed It Girl of Upper East Side high society. Marriage hadn't dimmed her radiance one bit. Top-tier genetics mixed with relentless maintenance made her dangerously captivating. Even now, angry as she was, she looked stunning.

But even so, Dominic hadn't bothered to really look at her in years.

Dominic's brow furrowed. He didn't bother answering. He just resumed his steady, measured climb up the stairs.

The heavy oak door of the study clicked shut.

Celine hurled her fork across the room. She shot up from her chair, her manicured hands gripping the edge of the table, ready to flip the entire feast onto the floor.

I just watched her. Silent. Unmoving.

At the very last second, she stopped.

Celine dug out a slim cigarette and lit it, a bitter, hollow smile twisting her lips. "Getting a new mom soon. You thrilled?"

I locked eyes with her for two seconds. Then, I reached out and pinched the burning cherry of her cigarette right off.

She went completely still.

A high-pitched scream ripped from her throat. "Are you out of your mind?! Why the hell did you do that?" She snatched my hand.

Blistered, raw flesh peeled back on my fingertips.

Her own fingers trembled violently as she yanked out her phone and speed-dialed Ellis. Hanging up, she gritted her teeth, her voice shaking. "I swear to God, Sloane. You watch too many superhero movies. You think you're made of steel?"

My voice barely broke a whisper. "Don't smoke. It's bad for you. And if you smoke too much, you won't be pretty anymore."

A complicated storm of emotions flickered in Celine's eyes as she scrambled to find an ice pack. She scoffed. "Even if I were ten times uglier, there still wouldn't be a single woman better looking than your mother. Got it?"

I swallowed the sharp, radiating pain in my hand, just watching her quietly. I agreed. Everyone in our social circle agreed.

Yet, somehow, Dominic had become hopelessly obsessed with Skylara girl whose looks could only be described as aggressively plain.

All his wealthy friends used to gossip behind closed doors. "Dominic has an absolute goddess waiting at home, and he doesn't even appreciate it. That's Celine. Guys used to line up around the block just for a chance with her." But they always followed it up with a nasty little caveat. "Still, nothing beats a shiny new toy. Plus, Celine had a kid. She isn't exactly twenty-one anymore. Makes sense, honestly."

When their kids first sneaked around and repeated those whispers to me, I didn't understand the sick, twisted meaning behind them. I only recognized my parents' names. So, like an idiot, I went and repeated every single word to my mother.

Chapter 2

Celines expression didn't even twitch. She just rolled her eyes. "Eavesdropping on gossip at your age. Youve got a bright future ahead of you, kid. If you have that much free time, go read a damn book."

But the second I left the room, the heavy click of her bedroom lock always followed. She locked herself in to chain-smoke and down vodka.

By the next morning, she played it off flawlessly. Booking her spa days. Ordering the kitchen staff to prep her wellness soups.

Eventually, I stopped repeating those whispers entirely.

Celine shot Dominic a withering glare. She grabbed the ice pack and pressed it hard against my raw hand.

The icy sting crashed into the burned nerve endings. I sucked in a sharp, ragged breath.

Dominics cold gaze dragged from my blistered fingers down to the crushed cigarette butt on the hardwood floor. "You can't even keep a kid safe?"

Celine snapped. "Get off your moral high horse and get the hell out." Suddenly, she froze. "That diamond choker at the Sotheby's auction two nights ago. Were you the one outbidding me?"

Dominic locked eyes with her. Silence stretched thin between them.

A bitter, razor-sharp smile carved into her face. "You didn't know? Your little side-piece is already parading it all over Manhattan."

"Skylar is not my side-piece." Dominics jaw clenched, his features darkening with obvious displeasure.

"Right, right. Your soulmate." Celine waved a dismissive, impeccably manicured hand. "Wishing you both a lifetime of bliss."

Dominic exhaled a heavy, frustrated breath. He slowly started down the sweeping staircase. "We are still attending the gala together tonight."

Celine let out a soft, knowing chuckle. She saw that coming. She stepped into his personal space, her movements liquid and deliberately slow. She draped a slender arm over his broad shoulder. The space between them vanished. She leaned in, her lips hovering a fraction of an inch from his ear. Her warm breath ghosted over his skin. "Beg me, Dominic."

His body tensed slightly as he stepped back. "The kid is right here. Knock it off."

Celine dropped her arm, instantly bored. "Whatever." She turned her gaze to me. "Go upstairs. Ellis will be up in a minute to fix your hand."

I walked up the stairs and clicked my bedroom door shut.

Downstairs, a crystal vase shattered violently against the marble floor.

I sat down at my desk. Relying on the memories of my past life, I pulled out my old leather-bound journal with my uninjured hand.

At eight years old, my home life absolutely suckedzero fatherly affection, and practically nonexistent motherly warmth. While other kids got bedtime stories and warm hugs, I acted as my mother's personal assistant. She ignored my actual existence, obsessed only with her daily maintenancehair blowouts, acrylic fills, chemical peels. Her rare bursts of maternal instinct consisted of lecturing me about sunscreen and retinol.

Parent-teacher conferences? School plays? Benson attended every single one of them.

Growing up, I often swallowed the harsh reality that my existence simply wasn't welcomed. I wasn't the child of the woman Dominic actually loved. And Celine probably deeply regretted having me, blaming my birth for ruining her perfect figure.

I flipped to the very last page of the journal. Asher wants to hang out this weekend. I want to go, but Donovan is going to be there too. I hate Donovan. He always looks at Mom with this sick, weird obsession in his eyes.

Sixteen-year-old me stared at the messy handwriting of eight-year-old me. My chest tightened with a complex, heavy knot of emotions.

Ten minutes later, a sharp knock rattled my door.

I cleared the scratchiness from my throat. "Come in."

Celine walked in, trailing right behind Ellis. The doctor immediately popped open his medical kit and went to work treating my burn.

Celine casually perched on the edge of my mattress. She paused, studying my face. "Do you want to hit the gala tonight? Seymour and Evelyn keep nagging about seeing you. No pressure if you want to skip. The place is going to be crawling with sharks."

I processed the information quickly. Donovan would definitely be lurking there. I needed to run recon and scope out his angle.

I gave a firm nod. "I'm going."

Celine offered a careless shrug. "Suit yourself."

Chapter 3

Ellis packed up his medical kit and stepped out.

Celine turned to leave, already mentally picking out her evening gown.

I stared at her slender back. The word slipped out before I could stop it. "Mom."

She froze in her tracks. Her manicured fingers unconsciously rubbed her bare arms, as if brushing off sudden goosebumps. "What is it?"

I let my voice wobble, injecting it with pure grievance. "I don't have a dress to wear."

Celine lived for haute couture and structured silhouettes. I lived for comfort. I survived every single high-society event in oversized graphic tees and denim cutoffs. I refused to let her style me, opting instead for neon greens and blinding reds.

Celine whipped around, looking at me like Id just sprouted horns. "Seriously? You actually want to wear a dress?" She marched over and pressed the back of her cool hand against my forehead, muttering. "No fever."

My lower lip trembled. I forced tears to pool in my eyes. "All the other girls get to wear pretty dresses! I'm the only one who doesn't!"

She stared at me in total bewilderment. "Youyou can't blame that on me. Every time I try to fix your tragic outfits, you get mad." After a while, she had just given up entirely, letting me wear whatever I wanted.

I stubbornly wiped away a stray tear. "I don't care. I want a dress."

She had never seen me pull this kind of act. She blinked, thrown off balance. "Fine. I'll have the stylist pull some options. But let me make one thing crystal clearyou are wearing Mary Janes. Absolutely no dirty sneakers. Ugh, stop crying"

The ballroom buzzed with the low, expensive hum of the Manhattan elite.

Celine stole the entire room. Her dark hair fell in perfect, cascading waves down her back. Wearing a blood-red mermaid gown, she was blindingly radiant. Standing next to her, Dominic radiated pure, arctic indifference despite her brilliant, practiced smile.

Evelyn cast a flat, unimpressed look in their direction before completely dismissing them. She turned to me, pinching my cheek with a fond smile. "Our little Sloane is finally wearing a dress. You're growing up."

Seymour shot a stern, judgmental glare across the room. He shook his head. "This is exactly how a proper young lady should look. Celine obsesses over her own vanity, but completely neglects her own daughter."

Evelyn nodded in sharp agreement. "Exactly. I've told her a million times to dress Sloane appropriately, but she just refuses to listen."

I piped up, my voice deliberately soft and weak. "Grandpa, Grandma, it was my fault. I just hated wearing dresses."

Seymour let out a cold, dismissive scoff. "Because she failed to raise you right."

I blinked, the urge to defend her rising in my throat.

Right then, someone jabbed a finger hard into my ribs.

I whipped my head around, my eyes going wide. "Asher"

Asher flashed a brilliant, dimpled smile. "Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Jiang. Hey, Sloane."

Evelyn's face instantly melted into a warm smile. "Such a good boy."

I trailed after Asher to the deserted dessert bar in the corner. He practically shoved a mini fruit tart into my mouth, narrowing his eyes accusingly. "Why did you bail on the amusement park yesterday?"

I awkwardly scratched the back of my head. "Got into a massive fight with my mom."

He froze for a second. His defensive posture dropped. "Oh. Well, that checks out."

Asher had soft, perfectly styled brown hair and an annoyingly flawless complexion. Stuffed into a miniature tailored tuxedo, he looked ridiculous and kind of adorable. I just stared at him.

In my past life, over the next eight years, Asher and I became absolute, unapologetic enemies. I despised the sick, obsessive way his father, Donovan, looked at Celine. I took all that rage out on Asher. I never gave him the time of day. He retaliated by relentlessly roasting my tragic wardrobe and calling me an idiot.

But looking back now? Our toxic, chaotic banter was one of the only bright spots in my miserable life.

I suddenly reached out and clamped my hand over his. I locked eyes with him, dead serious. "Do you think I dress ugly?"

Asher jerked back, stumbling over his words. "Huh? Today today you actually look pretty good."

I shook my head, not breaking eye contact. "And before today?"

Absolute silence.

Chapter 4

The quiet of our corner violently clashed with the roaring bassline of the gala.

I sniffled, letting the heat prick the back of my eyes. "Everyone says I'm ugly. They hate me. They say I look nothing like my mom"

Asher snatched my arm, absolute panic flashing in his eyes. "Who said that? You look pretty. You're the prettiest!"

"Really? Even on a normal day?" I pressed.

He nodded vigorously. A second later, he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly awkward. "Yeah. They're just talking trash. Name drop them right now. I'll handle it."

I froze.

The list of names stretched a mile long. From my actual childhood right through my teenage years, the Manhattan elite relentlessly compared me to Celine. They constantly whispered I completely missed out on her top-tier genetics. I was a dud. But why the hell did I have to be compared to anyone? Why compete with my own mother?

I exhaled a heavy, ragged breath. I grabbed another mini fruit tart and shoved it right past Asher's lips.

Suddenly.

A sharp commotion erupted across the ballroom.

I locked onto Skylar in her soft, innocent white dress. A full glass of Cabernet splashed violently between her and Celine. Both gowns took a direct hit.

The entire room knew this was Skylar's pathetic little mean-girl stunt. But Dominic refused to back his own wife. Seymour and Evelyn just blindly blamed the daughter-in-law they never considered real family.

My jaw clamped shut. A surge of anger burned the back of my throat.

I lunged forward.

Asher yanked me back by the wrist.

A man effortlessly materialized right in the center of the chaos. Tailored in a lethal, gunmetal-gray suit, Donovan arched a lazy brow. "You completely ruined Celine's dress."

Skylar visibly paled. She shrank behind Dominic's broad shoulders. Her voice dripped with practiced fragility. "Donovan she's wearing red. My dress is white" The heavy implication hung in the air: My stain is way worse.

"We both know exactly who tipped that glass. Need me to pull the security footage?" Donovan let out a low, dangerous chuckle.

Dominics eyes iced over completely. "This is family business. Stay out of it."

Donovan stiffened for a fraction of a second.

I ground my teeth together, grabbed Asher's hand, and dragged him directly into the warzone.

The high-society crowd immediately parted for us. I snapped each word out, loud and razor-sharp. "Asher and I just swore a blood oath! He's my brother now. That makes Donovan my godfather!"

I viciously elbowed Asher in the ribs.

He nodded furiously. "Fact!"

A heavy, oppressive hush fell over the ballroom.

Only Donovan broke it. The corner of his mouth ticked up. He casually slid one hand into his tailored slacks. "Hear that? Celine's business is officially my family business now."

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd.

Dominics expression darkened into pure, unfiltered hostility. "Godfather?"

Asher and I nodded again. Completely straight-faced. In perfect sync.

"Pfft." Celine finally broke. A genuine, breathless laugh escaped her bright red lips. We actually amused her. More importantlyshe didn't deny a single word.

Dominic snapped his hand out. His fingers clamped hard around Celines delicate wrist, forcefully yanking her against his side. His face betrayed nothing, but the dark hostility radiating from him was palpable. "Celine? Donovan, you address her as Mrs. Jiang."

"You love to control the narrative." Donovans tone dripped with lazy arrogance. He tilted his head, catching the eye of Cole, a nearby waiter. "Escort Celine to the VIP lounge for a change of clothes."

Dominics grip turned white-knuckled. He refused to let go.

Celine tilted her head, a mockingly sweet smile playing on her lips. "Husband. Care to release me?"

Skylar practically whimpered from behind his broad shoulder. "Dominic my dress is ruined too."

A dark, ugly shadow crossed Dominics eyes. He held out for three agonizing seconds before finally dropping Celine's wrist. He spun on his heel, personally escorting Skylar toward the private suites.

The circus act officially ended. The vultures in designer gowns quickly scattered back to their champagne. Leaving only me, Asher, and Donovan standing alone in the wreckage.

Chapter 5

I looked up.

Donovan happened to drop his gaze at that exact second. His deep, dark eyes locked onto mine, carrying an entirely unreadable weight.

Right then, Cole, a server in a crisp uniform, bowed slightly beside me. "Madam Evelyn requests your presence."

I froze, whipping my head around to meet my grandmothers strict glare across the room.

Asher grabbed my wrist. "Don't go."

I shook my head.

If I threw a tantrum and refused, I wouldn't be the one looking bad. Celine would take the heat for raising a brat.

I slid into the seat next to Evelyn, deliberately pitching my voice into a soft, naive whisper. "Grandma, who is that woman? Why did she ruin Mom's dress, and Dad didn't even get mad at her?"

Evelyns brow pinched. "Your father runs an entire corporate empire. He must possess the bandwidth to tolerate trivial people."

I clamped my mouth shut. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Donovan knock back his drink, downing the amber liquid like tap water.

Rumor had it, all of Manhattan high society expected Celine and Donovan to be the endgame. They missed their shot by an inch. Donovan stayed single to this day, officially adopting Asher from a distant cousin to secure an heir.

I rubbed my chin, letting the gears turn in my head.

Right then, I caught Asher slinking away toward the private corridors.

I shot out of my seat to tail him.

Evelyns hand clamped down hard on my shoulder. "Sit still. Stop running around."

"Bathroom emergency!" I yelled, ripping myself free and bolting into the crowd.

I shadowed Asher all the way to the VIP lounge. He didn't even notice me sliding into the narrow gap behind the cracked mahogany door right beside him.

Voices drifted from the suite.

Celines tone dripped with lazy, freezing contempt. "You cried about your family going bankrupt. I threw you a bone and got you a job at the firm. You owe me your entire career. So why pull this cheap stunt and embarrass everyone tonight?"

A tense quiet stretched inside the room.

Then, Skylars sickeningly soft voice answered. "Dominic is the one who truly saw my value. He promoted me to his personal secretary. My salary quadrupled."

Celine let out a dry, hollow laugh. "Right. So you secured the bag and the man. Whats missing? The title of Mrs. Jiang?"

No answer.

A long, tense beat passed.

"I'm pregnant," Skylar whispered. "Celine, you already have everything in the world. Just let him go. I refuse to let my baby grow up without a father."

Crash. A heavy brass coat rack slammed violently into the floor. Celine definitely kicked it.

Seeing Celine finally snap, a genuine, twisted smile bled into Skylars voice.

"I already got the blood test. It's a boy. Dominic and I are counting down the days. He even bought out an entire luxury nursery set."

Smack. The sharp, explosive crack of a slap echoed through the crack in the door