Reborn The Billionaire's Daughter Strikes Back

My husband cheated on me and brought his mistress home after her miscarriage, then forced me to swap lives with her.

She would live in the city, draped in luxury. I would be sent to the countryside to feed dogs and raise ducks.

My in-laws were all for it.

Your health has never been good. Your family probably coddled you too much growing up.

"A few days of country living will toughen you up."

In my last life, no one asked my opinion. They just shipped me off.

I moved into Cecily Harris's family home, where I was up before dawn and worked until after dark, ordered around by her parents like a servant.

My already fragile body deteriorated rapidly.

When I collapsed from illness, her parents decided I was useless since I couldn't work anymore. They locked me in a storage shed and left me to starve to death.

When I opened my eyes again, I heard my husband and his parents discussing this "life swap" all over again.

I refused. My husband's response was a threat:

"If you won't go, we're getting a divorce. I get the kids."

...

"Then let's divorce."

"Take the kids. I don't want anything."

I'd figured it out. Being sent there was a death sentence. Better to walk away with nothing than to die alone in that shed.

Donald Henson clearly hadn't expected me to make a decision so quickly. He froze for a moment, and then his expression slowly twisted into something ugly.

"Is there another man? Is that what this is?"

"All I'm asking is for you to go stay somewhere else for a while, get your health back, and do something nice for Cecily in the process. And this is how you treat me?"

I didn't bother explaining. Trying to reason with someone this delusional would only make me lose my mind too.

I stepped around them and went straight to the bedroom to pack my clothes.

I hadn't even folded two items before he stormed in, grabbed my wrist, and pinned me against the wardrobe.

He forced my chin up, locking my gaze to his.

"Can you stop being so selfish? The swap with Cecily is only temporary. She lost the baby and asked me for one wish."

"She just wants to be my wife for a little while. You get to rest and recover in the countryside, she gets her wish fulfilled. What's the problem?"

Listening to his self-righteous little arrangement, I felt ice flood through my veins.

Donald and I had married for love.

We both had congenital heart disease. He was just the one who got sick first.

I'd begged my father, in tears, to give up my heart donor so Donald could be saved.

And I never found another match. I'd been kept alive ever since on my family's money, one expensive treatment after another.

But he loved me. At least, I'd believed that. We got married, built a home, even had children.

It was just that in recent years, my episodes had grown more frequent. I spent more and more time in the hospital.

Donald's grip softened.

"Go to the countryside and focus on getting better. I'll keep looking for a heart donor for you."

"And don't be angry at Cecily. I only went to her because she reminded me of you. I'm a man. I have needs. Your body can't handle it, so I had no choice but to..."

"Don't be upset. You're the only one I truly care about."

I wrenched free of his hands. A wave of nausea rolled through me.

I glared at him, every word dripping with venom.

"Spare me the 'I care about you' speech. It makes me sick."

"Just marry her and be done with it."

Donald's eyes went cold for a split second. He opened his mouth to say something, but a knock came at the door.

It was my mother-in-law's voice.

"Donald, the people are here. Send your wife out."

I heard them. The same men's voices from my last life, muffled through the door.

The moment Donald's attention shifted, I shoved him hard.

I bolted for the window, ready to climb out.

But Donald was tall and fast. He closed the distance in three strides, caught me around the waist, and hauled me straight to the door.

I was furious, pounding my fists against the back of his hand.

"Donald, let go of me!"

The bedroom door swung open instantly.

Ivy's smile vanished the second she stepped out. Her gaze dropped to the red marks on Donald's hand, and her eyes turned cold as a blade.

"This daughter-in-law of mine is full of tricks. Just throw her in the trunk."

Clarence Henson stumbled out of his room, woken by the commotion. He looked at me struggling and his expression soured with irritation.

"Dad, can you just cover Mom's mouth? She's so loud I can't sleep."

"It's not like we're sending you to die. You're just going to the countryside for a while. Why are you screaming like a pig at slaughter?"

Those merciless words from my own son.

My heart went cold. Dead cold.

Donald studied my expression with satisfaction, then stuffed a towel into my mouth.

"See? Even your son is on my side."

"Be a good girl and go live out there. I'll come get you when it's time."

They shoved me into the trunk.

The engine rumbled to life.

The stench of gasoline and cheap leather invaded my nose. Every bump in the road sent a jolt of pain through my chest. I bit down on the tip of my tongue to keep from blacking out.

The car hadn't gone far yet. I had to save myself now.

When they tied my wrists, I'd kept my hands spread apart on purpose. Once I relaxed, the gap in the binding was wide enough to work with.

Donald had taught me that trick.

Shortly after our engagement, I'd been kidnapped by a deranged delivery driver. The man was jealous of my happy life and wanted to send Donald and me to hell together. Donald noticed something was wrong in time and managed to fight back.

He'd held me afterward, tears streaming down his face. "From now on, I'll come home and cook for you. No more delivery orders. I'll never let anything put you in danger again."

Everyone envied me for having a husband like that.

He'd also taught me how to escape if I was ever restrained. This was one of those techniques.

I never imagined the first time I'd use it would be against him.

I slipped free and fled into the darkness. My heart hammered with fear and exertion, each beat a stab of pain. One of my shoes flew off somewhere along the way, and by the time I couldn't run anymore, the sole of my bare foot had been scraped raw.

The men sent to catch me were closing in again.

Just as despair was about to swallow me whole, a pair of hands appeared from behind and clamped over my mouth.

"Sheila!"

Inside Eugenia Fox's cramped rental apartment, I sat clutching a cup of hot water, trying to steady my breathing.

Eugenia listened to everything I told her, and her face twisted with rage.

"That bastard. How dare he?"

"Don't worry, Sheila. I won't let him find you. I promise."

Maybe it was the relief of finally feeling safe. The moment I finished the water, exhaustion crashed over me like a wave. I slumped against the couch and fell asleep.

Through the fog of unconsciousness, I heard voices. Familiar ones.

"I sold out my own best friend for this. Ten thousand isn't asking too much, is it?"

"Come on, Mr. Henson. You're a big-shot CEO now. Don't be cheap."

My body felt like lead, but I forced my eyes open a sliver. Through the narrow gap, I saw the woman I'd trusted with my life making a deal with Donald.

Every time she said "best friend," it cut through me like a knife.

I spotted my phone on the floor, just within reach.

I grabbed it and shoved it into my bra.

The deal was done.

Donald scooped me up. He noticed the tears still wet on my lashes and reached out, gently brushing them away.

The gesture was tender.

I swallowed the urge to flinch and kept my body limp, feigning sleep.

Eugenia walked toward us. Just as she got close, her ankle twisted and she crashed hard to the ground.

Donald's reflexes were instant. He dropped me and rushed to her side.

The back of my skull cracked against the floor. My consciousness faded to the sound of his voice, soft and worried, murmuring over Cecily.

When I opened my eyes again, he was actually there with me in the countryside.

Cecily stood over me, watching me alone.

"Donald is so good to you. He was worried you'd suffer out here, so he came all the way to check on your new living arrangements."

"You should start getting used to it now. After all, being a farm girl isn't about sitting around doing nothing. You'll have to work the fields."

She finished speaking and walked out.

She hooked her arm through Donald's and introduced him to her parents.

"This is my boyfriend. The one inside is his little sister. She was spoiled rotten at home, so we brought her here for you to toughen up."

"However you'd raise any other girl around here, that's how you raise her."

The last part, she said in the local dialect.

Translated, it meant: treat her like a pig, a dog, an animal. Whatever you want.

She walked back over to me, flashing a bright smile, still speaking in dialect.

"Right, whore?"

She thought I couldn't understand. She even had the kindness to explain it to me.

"Sheila, I was complimenting you just now."

"Aren't you happy?"

My face stayed blank. I looked at that smug face of hers, picked up the porcelain ashtray caked with her father's cigarette ash from the bed, and threw it right in her face.

Then I gave it right back to her.

"Whore."

"I'm complimenting you too."

Cecily's face turned a mottled gray.

She shrieked and clawed at her skin, growing more frantic by the second, until she was so furious she burst into tears.

Donald rushed over, grabbed her hands, and pulled out a wet wipe to clean her face.

The look he gave me was pure rage.

"Cecily had a miscarriage. Her health is already fragile."

"How could you do this to her?!"

Cecily's parents panicked too. Her father snatched up a pair of coal tongs from the floor and swung them at me.

"You little tramp, laying a hand on my daughter!"

"I'll"

I grabbed the pillow and hurled it at him.

"Yeah, I touched her. Go ahead and kill me if you've got the guts."

"She knew he was taken and went after him anyway. She seduced my man, then dumped me in this godforsaken middle of nowhere. Back in the old days, I could've had her drowned for what she did."

"If you don't like it, call the cops. Let them haul every last one of you in."

The neighbors who'd crowded in to watch the commotion heard every word. The way they looked at Cecily's family shifted entirely.

"I thought this girl married some rich man. Turns out she's the other woman."

"And she dragged the real wife all the way out here? How can someone be that heartless?"

"Wait, that can't be right. I heard she was dating him for real, that they were about to get their marriage license."

Cecily couldn't take the whispers and the pointed stares. She snatched the wet wipe from Donald's hand and flung it at them.

She turned on the crowd, spitting venom.

"You're listening to her bullshit! I'm the one who's Donald's woman. If you don't believe me, ask him!"

"Donald, say something! You promised me!"

Donald had already slipped back into character. He reached over and stroked her hair, stepping in to smooth things over.

"Everyone, please stop with the rumors. Cecily and I are the real couple."

"This woman tried to crawl into my bed. I brought her here to teach her a small lesson, but clearly she hasn't learned a thing."

His expression twisted with disgust.

"Now she's trying to slander Cecily."

"I remember Cecily telling me your village has a way of dealing with women like this..."

My heart lurched.

A terrible feeling crept over me.

"It's about time she learned her lesson."

I backed away slowly until my spine hit the wall. The door had been locked from the outside.

Several stocky women burst in, gripping fresh switches braided from willow branches.

They brought them down on me without hesitation.

"Homewreckers are all possessed by fox spirits."

"Willow switches drive out evil spirits. We're just helping you get cleansed."

The switches had been soaked in salt water. The first lash sent brine searing straight into my wounds.

I screamed. Donald started toward the room, but someone pulled him back.

"Donald, the ladies know what they're doing. They won't really hurt her."

"If you go in there, she'll know she can use your worry to manipulate you."

Donald's expression shifted, darkened, shifted again. In the end, he didn't come in.

Sixty-six lashes.

The twin agony of my heart condition and the shredded flesh stole even my ability to scream. By the end, I couldn't make a sound.

Something warm was trickling down between my legs.

The women in the room saw the blood and panicked instantly.

"She... she's not pregnant, is she?"

Donald heard the commotion and walked in.

When he saw the blood pooling between my legs, real alarm flashed across his face.

"It was supposed to be a simple lesson. Why is she bleeding?"

The women couldn't get a single word out. One by one, their eyes turned to Cecily.

Cecily was rattled too, but she recovered fast. She grabbed Donald's arm and lowered her voice.

"It's obviously just her period."

"You know Sheila's cycle better than anyone. Isn't it right around now?"

Half the worry drained from Donald's face.

"That's probably it."

Cecily smiled. When her gaze slid to me, a flicker of contempt settled behind her eyes.

"Sheila's trying to fake a miscarriage so you'll feel sorry for her and take her home."

"You've told me yourself, Donald. Sheila is clever."

"She knows she's not getting out of here anytime soon, so she's using her own body to guilt-trip you."

I felt the life inside me fading, slipping away degree by degree. A bitter, hollow laugh escaped my throat.

In my last life, I hadn't been able to keep this baby either. Only it hadn't ended like this. Back then, they'd forced me into the fields to do manual labor until my body gave out and the child was gone.

This time, it was beaten out of me.

Donald had already swallowed every word Cecily fed him. He turned on me, lip curling. "Sheila Simmons, you really don't know when to quit, do you?"

"Even now, you're scheming to make me take you away."

"Watching me worry. Is that fun for you?"

Cecily put on her best sympathetic expression, shaking her head at me with practiced disapproval.

"Sheila, using Donald's concern like that is really too much."

"You should apologize to him."

I placed my hand gently over my lower belly. The warmth beneath my palm was fading.

I bit through my lip. Tasted iron and salt. Then I lunged, driving my head straight into Cecily's stomach.

She went sprawling, arms and legs flailing, clutching her abdomen and wailing.

"My stomach! My stomach hurts so bad!"

"Donald, I'm not going to lose the ability to be a mother, am I?"

Donald backhanded me across the face.

"You'd better pray nothing happens to Cecily."

He turned to Leopold and Beverly Harris, who were hovering in the doorway, and raised his voice.

"I'm taking Cecily to the hospital to get checked out. She stays with you."

"Just handle things the way Cecily told you."

He scooped Cecily into his arms and left.

The engine roared to life outside. Once the car pulled away, Leopold and Beverly Harris ushered the other women out of the room.

Beverly Harris stepped forward and slapped me twice across the face.

"So what if you're that CEO's wife? He wants my daughter now."

"Once you're dead, my girl becomes the new Mrs. Henson."

"Of course, we won't make it look too obvious. Imagine the story: a spoiled little rich wife threw a tantrum, stumbled into the pig pen, and got torn apart by the hogs."

Leopold grabbed a fistful of my hair and dragged me toward the door.

My legs scraped across the gravel. Stones sliced skin. Blood trailed behind me the entire way.

Leopold looked at the red smear on the ground and grinned.

"Once I starve those animals for a few days, they'll smell the blood on you. And then, sweetheart, you'll be their next meal."

I'd been thrown into the pig pen.

The stench hit me like a wall. The animals snorted, noses twitching, and lumbered toward me. I shoved at them, but their hooves caught me several times. The two of them stood there, watching my misery with satisfaction, before finally walking away.

Only after I was absolutely certain they were gone did I force myself to stay conscious and pull out my phone.

I called my parents.

"Mom, Dad. Save me."