Reborn Heiress: Reclaiming My Monster Billionaire

Ginny hovered near the warehouse ceiling. Below her, her body lay motionless, as if asleep. She felt no heat, no pain. Where there should have been sensation, there was only an empty, silent echo.

A faint wail drifted from afar. Too far, so very far.

Then, an even deeper and fiercer roar flooded her mind.

A massive black armored SUV crashed through the locked iron gate. The heavy metal door collapsed with a thud, and the vehicle slid across the concrete, its tires screeching.

Before the SUV had even come to a complete stop, the driver's side door was kicked open.

Bedford Parkes jumped out of the car. His surveillance team had spotted a suspicious offshore cleanup payment an hour earlier and sent a signal to Brant's encrypted phone. The signal pointed directly to the abandoned industrial cemetery.

Two burly men in tactical gear rushed out of the back door. One of them lunged forward and grabbed Bedford by the chest, his boots screeching on the concrete.

"Mr. Parks! You can't—!"

Bedford whirled around. His face was deathly pale, replaced by a pure, savage madness. His dark eyes were wide open, as if he had lost his mind. He reached for his waist, pulled out a black pistol, and pressed it hard against the bodyguard's chin. The man froze. He slowly raised his hands and staggered backward.

Bedford didn't even have time to catch his breath before rushing straight to her unconscious body on the ground.

Ginny hovered near the ceiling, feeling her soul convulse violently. She looked down, stunned and unable to move. Bedford Parks. That silicon-based monster. Cold-blooded, ruthless, and pathologically fastidious. The man who wouldn't allow anyone to touch him.

He reached out and gently cradled her unconscious body in his arms.

The roar emanating from his throat sent chills down Ginny's spine. It was a primal, hoarse, beastly howl, bursting forth from the depths of his lungs. It was the sound of some creature being slaughtered.

He hurriedly took off his heavy coat and wrapped it tightly around her, wanting to give her some warmth.

Bedford looked up. A blinding beam of light was shooting toward them.

He didn't try to run away, nor did he roll away. He pounced on her, his broad shoulders bending inward, forming a human wall around her.

A heavy corner of the steel beam slammed into his back. He groaned and fell forward, but his arms remained tightly around her, refusing to let go.

The excruciating pain instantly turned his face deathly pale, and a mouthful of blood gushed from the corner of his mouth, dripping onto her hair. He gritted his teeth, using all his strength to support his body, preventing the weight of the beam from crushing her.

Ginny let out a silent, heart-wrenching scream, then bent down, stretched out her arms, grabbed him, and pulled him away.

Her transparent hands passed straight through his broad, trembling shoulders. She grasped only emptiness. She grasped nothing at all.

Bedford's head drooped. His dusty, bloodshot face pressed against her pale forehead. His breath was wet and shallow.

His lips moved, but he could barely move them; a faint breath escaped from his throat.

"I love you."

His eyes slowly closed, the rise and fall of his chest grew weaker and weaker, and his last breath dissipated into the scorching air.

Ginny tilted her head back and let out a silent, agonizing scream. The pain in her chest was more unbearable than the chains binding her; it felt as if a boulder was pressing down on her heart, suffocating her. She had hated him, she had feared him, yet he had died for her.

Suddenly, the space around her warped and deformed. The concrete walls stretched out like elongated toffee. An invisible, immense force grabbed her and yanked her backward with astonishing speed.

A dazzling pure white light burst forth before her eyes, and the warehouse and Bedford's injured, fallen body vanished.

Ginny gasped.

The icy, biting air rushed into her lungs. Her chest heaved as she gasped for breath. Suddenly, she opened her eyes.

She stared at the back of the beige leather car seat. The smooth, expensive leather was only inches from her face. The cold air blowing from the air conditioning vents sent a chill down her spine. She blinked and raised her hands.

Their skin was smooth, pale, and flawless.

Her heart pounded like a frightened bird trapped in a cage. Her hands gripped the leather seat tightly. Solid. Real. She was alive.