All Chapters of Rebirth: In the arms of my Ex's Uncle : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

The heat of the oven hit my face with a vengeance as I pulled out the chicken that I had spent the entire day preparing. It was seasoned to perfection. I placed it on the kitchen counter and finally took a breath as I wiped my brow. I had finished with today's dinner. Now, I could rest—"Vivian!" Clarissa, my mother-in-law, screamed, making my pulse jump.I ran to where she sat in front of the television."Yes?" I asked.Her cold eyes fell on me, a scowl on her lips. She pushed a plate in my direction. "I need more pie," she said. "It's a bit overbaked, but there's nothing else to eat around here."I picked up the plate and made a beeline back to the kitchen. My heart sank when I saw what was left of the pie. Nothing. Just then, Diane, my sister-in-law, entered the kitchen with another plate and placed it on the counter instead of in the sink."You finished the pie?" I asked.Her gaze hardened. "And? Who told you not to make enough?"She didn’t even give me a chance to speak before sh

I stood at the ATM, my fingers trembling slightly as I inserted my card. The machine whirred, the screen flashing before delivering a message that felt like a punch to my gut:Transaction Declined.I tried again, but the same message popped up. My heart sank, frustration and panic rising in my chest. Of course, Luca had frozen my account. He wouldn’t make it easy for me to leave. He’d make sure I had nothing.I clenched my fists, resisting the urge to scream in the middle of the bank. Fine, I thought. I didn’t need his money.I hurried outside, grabbing my suitcase and walking toward the nearest hotel. I had stashed some cash inside the lining of my suitcase—a lesson I’d learned long ago in case of emergencies. Luca didn’t know about it, and it would be enough to cover me for a few days.The hotel lobby was quiet, and I wasted no time booking a room. The receptionist didn’t ask too many questions, and soon enough, I was alone, sitting on the edge of the bed, my suitcase open in front

The forty-story drop beyond Dante's office windows made the room spin. I gripped the back of a leather chair, my knuckles white against the black surface. Below, cars crawled like insects through the morning gridlock. The sun hadn't properly risen yet—just a grey suggestion of dawn that made everything look slightly unreal.I hadn't slept. The ring box had sat on my nightstand all night, its presence like another person in the room. Every time I'd closed my eyes, I'd seen Luca's face when he realized who exactly I'd kissed at that party. The thought should have frightened me. Instead, I felt a dark thrill of anticipation."Coffee?" Dante's voice came from somewhere behind me.The scent wafted over—rich, dark roast from the small Italian café downstairs. My stomach rolled unexpectedly. "I'm fine."The office breathed wealth, but quietly. No gold-framed paintings or crystal sculptures like the ones Luca collected. Just clean lines of chrome and glass, everything arranged with precision.

The room was still dark when I opened my laptop. 4:47 AM. Sleep had become a stranger these past few days. I typed in the search bar: "early pregnancy symptoms." Incognito mode—some habits die hard.Three pregnancy tests sat lined up on my bathroom counter. I'd driven across the city before dawn, stopping at different pharmacies, not wanting to face the same cashier twice. First Response. Clear Blue. EPT. All positive. The empty boxes scattered across the marble told a story I wasn't ready to read.My phone lit up. Dante."Hey." His voice was soft, warm—a tone I was starting to recognize as just for me. "Want to grab breakfast?"I pressed my forehead against the cool bathroom mirror. "Can't. Migraine.""Do you need anything?""No, I just..." I swallowed. "I need to sleep it off."He was quiet for a moment. "Call me if you change your mind."The OB-GYN's waiting room felt too bright, too real. Pale green walls. Black and white photographs of newborns. A couple sat across from me—her ha

The buzzing of my phone worked its way into my dreams. I reached for it blindly, squinting at the screen. 6:17 AM. The notifications kept coming, each one lighting up the dim room.27 missed calls. 43 text messages. 15 news alerts. 8 emails marked urgent.I sat up slowly, switched on the bedside lamp. The guest room at Dante's penthouse was still unfamiliar—all grey silk and chrome, nothing personal yet. My finger hovered over the first notification.The image loaded. I blinked, certain I was still dreaming. There I was, outside Provocateur nightclub, my black dress hitched high. A man's arm circled my waist, his face conveniently turned from the camera. The timestamp read March 15th, 2023."That's not..." I scrolled further. More photos. Me at the Four Seasons bar, leaning into another man's space. July 2023—the week I'd been in Hong Kong for the Asian merger. Another showed me getting into a car, a different man's hand on my back. September 2023."No, no, no." I opened my messages.