Reborn For His Savage Love

On my wedding day, the giant screen in the ballroom was supposed to show a romantic video of my fiancé and me.

Instead, it played a sordid deepfake video of me with another man.

My fiancé, the celebrated tech mogul Edward Ford, pointed at me in front of New York’s high society.

“Amelia Stone, you are a disgrace.”

My own father then stepped forward, not to defend me, but to condemn me. He publicly disowned me, announcing he had another, kinder daughter who would take my rightful place.

He gestured to the side, and my illegitimate half-sister, Dara Chase, stepped out, looking innocent and fragile.

Betrayed by the two men I loved most, I fled the ballroom in shame. As I ran into the street, a car hit me with horrific force.

As I died, I floated above my own broken body. I watched as Edward and Dara embraced, their mission accomplished. But then I saw him. Josiah Craft, a guest at the wedding, fell to his knees beside me, his face crumbling into raw, animalistic grief.

I opened my eyes again. I was back in my penthouse, just days before the wedding that was supposed to be my end.