Reborn as his captivating wife

A Shocking Realization

Elena sat up slowly, her temples throbbing from the lingering headache. The early morning light spilled through the curtains, highlighting the clean lines of her grand bedroom. She pressed a hand to her forehead, wincing as flashes from the night before came rushing back—feeling hot, dizzy, then being carried in Sebastian's arms.

Her gaze drifted sideways and her heart jolted.

Sebastian was lying next to her.

It wasn't a dream. There he was—his strong, calm face softened in sleep, messy hair framing his sharp features. Elena's breath hitched, confusion swirling in her chest. Why is he here? Doesn't he sleep in his own room?

Her eyes trailed over the blankets and then to herself—dressed neatly in a satin nightgown. She remembered bits of cold water splashing on her skin, Sebastian's firm voice commanding her to stay awake, his arms holding her steady.

A sense of strange security washed over her. He stayed.

Elena sat quietly for a few more seconds, watching his chest rise and fall. Her lips pressed together in conflict. Why would he…? The man who wanted to divorce her, the one who'd pushed her away for so long… why would he choose to stay beside her? Or was he really opening up?

As if feeling her stare, Sebastian's eyelids fluttered open. His cold gaze softened briefly when it met hers, and Elena immediately shifted away, startled.

"Good, you're awake," he said, sitting up, his voice still hoarse from sleep. "How are you feeling?"

Elena swallowed. "Dizzy… but better. What happened?"

Sebastian leaned back against the headboard, his arms crossing. "You were drugged. Someone spiked your drink with aphrodisiacs."

Her pupils constricted. So it wasn't my imagination.

His jaw clenched slightly. "I made sure the security team is investigating. If I find out who was responsible…"

He didn't finish, but Elena could hear the dangerous undertone in his voice. Despite herself, her heart thudded. He had taken care of her—protected her—even though he owed her nothing.

There was a long pause before Sebastian finally stood up, brushing his hair back. "Rest for the day. I've pushed back my meetings. Mason will check in on you."

Elena blinked in surprise. "You're… staying?"

Sebastian hesitated. His back was turned, but his shoulders were visibly tense. "I'm staying," he confirmed. Then after a moment, he added more softly, "Because for some reason, I didn't like seeing you collapse."

Her throat tightened unexpectedly. She quickly masked it with a quiet nod. "Thank you."

Sebastian glanced back, his cold, detached mask starting to crack around the edges. "Don't get used to it," he said bluntly, though the harshness lacked its usual bite.

But Elena just smiled faintly to herself. Maybe, just maybe, she had made the smallest dent in his heart.

And this was just the beginning.

Elena sat frozen on the bed, her heartbeat uneven as she watched Sebastian rise and leave the room without another word. The quiet click of the door echoed far louder than it should have, leaving behind a strange silence that pressed against her chest.

She pressed her palm to her face, cheeks still warm. Everything from the previous night was a blur of dizziness, heat, and Sebastian's rare tenderness. Her lips pressed into a tight line. It's just a coincidence, she told herself. A rare moment of decency.

Yet, her chest felt a little too light, her mood a little too unsettled.

Elena pulled herself out of bed, her limbs still aching from exhaustion. Moving to the vanity mirror, she caught her reflection—eyes still sleepy. She sighed and splashed cold water on her face, trying to cool down the storm brewing within.

By the time she changed into comfortable lounge clothes and walked downstairs, Sebastian was nowhere in sight. Mason appeared by the entrance, giving her a respectful nod.

"Mr. Hart left earlier, Madam. He mentioned having an urgent meetings downtown that came out of nowhere."

Elena nodded faintly, masking her disappointment. "Understood."

---

Later, seated in her sunlit study, Elena's focus shifted to her tablet. The memory of her dwindling funds came rushing back—investments in Stratus, business expenses, and the expensive diamond necklace. Pride wouldn't let her ask for more. She had already made her decision to trade and invest with the remaining amount. And now, as she checked the stocks she had picked, she felt a tiny flicker of satisfaction seeing green numbers, small profits.

It wasn't enough, but it was a beginning.

After sipping her tea, she opened her notebook. She couldn't spend the rest of her days trapped in a marriage where her worth was determined by the Hart name. She needed to build something that would ensure her survival and revenge—something strong enough to bury her enemies and secure her future.

By noon, she had written down a list of business models, market gaps, and potential acquisition targets. Her mind raced with strategies, her spirit buzzing with energy. If last night taught her anything, it was this—being dependent was dangerous. She had to stand on her own feet, not just to survive, but to win.

As she set down her pen, a faint smile tugged at her lips.

Let the world watch. I will rise again—under my own name.