Reborn Heiress: Escaping My Contract Marriage with the Cold CEO-Chapter 74: The Rebirth of Annabeth Saint

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Chapter 74: The Rebirth of Annabeth Saint

I blinked as the room swam into focus. I swayed as my legs threatened to buckle, but I managed to stay upright.

"Wh-where am I?"

"Are you all right, Miss Saint?"

Familiar voice. Deep. Filled with concern. Real worry, not the fake kind offered by worthless friends and scheming family members.

I felt my legs give way, but before I crashed to the floor, I felt strong arms sweep me into a strong embrace. I looked up and saw the gorgeous face of my savior, Devon Thorne. Anyone else who looked at him probably saw the cold businessman. The heartless corporate overlord.

I lifted my hand to his face and cupped his cheek. "I’m reborn," I whispered. "And I know what you did."

His grip faltered—just for a second—but it was enough. The world spun again, darkness creeping in at the edges of my vision. The last thing I saw was the flicker of desperation in his eyes.

The world tilted, a dizzying swirl of colors and shadows, before everything sharpened into focus—though not quite steady. My head throbbed, a dull ache pulsing behind my temples, but the warmth surrounding me was solid. Real.

Strong arms.

I blinked up at him—Devon Thorne, the man who had been mine since childhood. And I hadn’t known it. If Sean and Giselle had killed me, killed us, I might’ve never known.

Devon’s jaw was clenched tight, those dark eyes filled with worry. Someone actually worried about me.

"Annabeth..."

I should have been afraid—should have remembered who he was, what he was capable of. But all I could think was how perfectly I fit against him, as if my body had been made to fit within his arms.

My legs betrayed me then, buckling beneath my weight. But Devon’s arms tightened around me, lifting me effortlessly against his chest. My fingers, trembling and weak, found his cheek before I could stop them. His skin was warm, rough with the faintest hint of stubble.

Then... everything went black.

***|***|***|***|***

ANNABETH SAINT

When I woke, I was lying on something impossibly soft. Silk sheets, cool against my skin. The scent of bergamot and leather wrapped around me, unmistakably his. I dragged my eyes open, taking in the dimly lit bedroom—all dark wood and masculine elegance.

"You’re awake."

Devon stood by the window, his back to me, the city lights painting his silhouette in gold. He didn’t turn.

I pushed myself up on my elbows, ignoring the way my head protested. "Where are we?"

"My penthouse in Yingmeng." His voice was clipped. "You fainted."

He turned. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes—God, his eyes—burned with ferocity. "You’re exhausted. Malnourished. My private doctor said you need rest and nutritious food."

He nodded toward the nightstand, and I saw the bowl of brownish water. "What is that?"

"Medicine. Drink it."

I shook my head. "I don’t need it."

"Stubborn. You do need it."

He sat on the edge of the bed and then picked up the bowl. He took the spoon and dipped it into the smelly medicine water. He blew on the contents. Then he put it against my lips.

I reared back. "I don’t like medicine."

"You don’t have to like it. You have to drink it." He slurped the liquid out of the spoon, returned the bowl to the nightstand, and then cupped my chin. Then he kissed me. I automatically opened my mouth, and the medicine flowed from his mouth into mine. I had no choice but to swallow the bitter drink.

He let me go and I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. "Yuck!"

"Are you going to drink the rest? Or do I feed it to you?"

"I’ll drink it."

"Good girl." He gave me the bowl, but I wasn’t going to torture myself with spoonfuls. I simply drank straight from the bowl, hating every second I had to swallow the bitter concoction.

Devon took the bowl and put it aside. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a candy. He unwrapped it and put it against my lips. "Here’s your reward."

I accepted the candy. Strawberry, my favorite. I chewed happily.

"Is it sweet?" he asked.

I swallowed. "Yes."

"Worth having to take the medicine?"

I pouted. "No."

He laughed.

All those years. All those times I’d felt alone, only to find out later he’d been there, watching, protecting.

Him. Always him.

I swallowed hard. "Why did you stay away?"

He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. His gaze softened as he lifted my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles—gentle, reverent. Like I was something precious he’d been afraid to break.

"I wasn’t strong enough," he admitted, voice rough with regret. "Not the way I needed to be. Not to protect you from the monsters in my own life." His thumb stilled, pressing lightly against my pulse. "I swore I’d come back when I could shield you properly. And then... goddamn it. That stupid family marriage. Suddenly you were engaged to my nephew."

"Sean Lee is your nephew?"

A faint smile touched his lips, bittersweet. "The son of my youngest sister. She left the family years ago, but she’s still listed in the family tree." His fingers laced through mine, warm and steady. "When I saw the engagement announcement, I nearly tore the world apart. Not because you’d moved on—God knows I wanted you to be happy—but because I knew, in my bones, Sean was not worthy of you. Hell, I’m not worthy of you."

My breath caught. "Devon—"

"I stayed away because I thought it was too late." His other hand rose, cupping my cheek with heartbreaking tenderness. "But then you ended the engagement. Your family took everything from you as a punishment."

Tears pricked at my lashes. "I’m alone," I said.

"No, you’re not. I’m here." He put his forehead against mine. "I"m sorry I’m late."

I pulled back and looked at him. I saw love in his eyes. Tenderness. Every gentle emotion I’d been missing in my life. I took his hands in mine. "Devon ... will you marry me?"

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