Reborn To Reject My Billionaire Fiancé

"You could have killed us both, Chloe."

The voice slid down her spine like a blade of ice. It cut through the fog of pain and the lingering, pervasive smell of disinfectant that clung to the air like a shroud.

Chloe's consciousness returned in fragments. The pounding in her temples hammered against her skull. A burning pain seared her ribs with every shallow breath she forced herself to take. She heard the steady beep of the heart monitor.

"Did you ever stop to think?" the voice continued, dripping with that familiar, weary contempt. Harrison. Her fiancé. "About totaling a quarter-million-dollar car on the FDR Drive? Because what? You were upset?"

The memories crashed into her. The scream of tires on slick asphalt. The sickening crunch of metal. Brianna's face—that falsely worried expression—seconds after she'd handed Chloe the keys, knowing full well the brake lines had been tampered with.

Chloe's eyes snapped open.

The room was sterile, blinding. Her gaze landed on the digital clock on the wall.

October 12th. Ten years ago.

Impossible. She had died. She remembered the cold emptiness, the final surrender. Yet she was here, on this day. The day everything had begun to fall apart.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you."

Harrison's hand clamped around her wrist. The pressure was immense. It was a grip she knew all too well—the prelude to a reprimand, to being dragged away, to being silenced. Panic shot through her veins.

She forced herself to turn her head.

He stood over her, devastatingly handsome, his tailored suit immaculate. But the face she had spent years trying to please was twisted with disgust. The love she had once felt for him—the burden she had even carried into death—was gone. All that remained was hatred.

"This is because I talked to Brianna at the gallery opening yesterday, isn't it?" he sneered, tightening his grip. "That's what this is all about. Another one of your childish, desperate attempts to get my attention."

Brianna. The name struck like a poisoned dart.

Chloe remembered her former self. She had cried. She had apologized for an accident that wasn't her fault, begging him to believe her. That memory churned in her stomach.

Never again.

Harrison took her silence as acquiescence. "Chloe, this childish behavior of yours has to stop."

Something inside her snapped. She wrenched her arm free from his grasp.

Shock filled the air.

She swung her arm. Her palm connected with his cheek in a sharp crack that echoed through the sterile room.

Harrison stepped back, a hand flying to his face. His eyes were wide with disbelief.

When Chloe spoke, her voice was a hoarse, rasping whisper, torn from a dry throat:

"We're done, Harrison."

His shock solidified into fury. "Do you have any idea what you're saying? Stop acting out!"

"I said our engagement is over." Her gaze was as flat as a winter sea. "I'm ending it."

"You're insane." Harrison's voice dropped, dangerously low. "Do you know what ending the engagement means? Your father's company—"

"None of my concern."

"You have nothing." He stepped closer. "You're nothing without me."

Chloe didn't flinch. "That's none of your concern either."

"Brianna was right." He let out a cold laugh and shook his head. "She said you'd completely lose it sooner or later. I didn't believe her. Now I do."

Chloe almost smiled. Brianna. The woman who had smiled sweetly as she handed her the keys. "Thank her for me. Thank her for adjusting those brakes so perfectly."

Harrison froze. "What are you talking about?"

"The brake lines," Chloe said. "The FDR. That rainy night. Do you really think it was an accident?"

A flicker crossed his face—not confusion, but alarm. "You crashed because you'd been drinking—"

"There was no alcohol in my blood." Chloe cut him off. "You know that. And you know who would do something like this."

Silence stretched between them.

"You're accusing Brianna?" His voice was almost incredulous.

"I'm accusing both of you," Chloe said. "But don't worry. I'll take my time."

Harrison stared at her. He looked at her as if seeing a stranger. Perhaps in that moment, she was.

"You'll regret this," he said quietly.

"I already have regretted it." Chloe's voice was terrifyingly calm. "But not anymore."

He opened his mouth, then closed it. For the first time in his life, he found himself speechless before this woman. Not because she was hysterical, but because she was too quiet. Quiet like a blade already drawn from its sheath.