Reborn Heiress: Escaping My Contract Marriage with the Cold CEO
Chapter 37: Sunny’s Cafe

Chapter 37: Sunny’s Cafe

The café was one of those obnoxiously trendy spots with reclaimed wood tables, overpriced avocado toast, and metal signs with snarky phrases pinned to the wall. Nathan was already there when I arrived, his dark hair slightly messy, his stupidly perfect jawline tilted as he scrolled through his phone.

He looked up when I slid into the seat across from him. "Hey," he said.

"Hey." Is for horses, I thought sourly.

He studied me. "You okay? You look..." He smiled. "Beautiful. Very beautiful."

Shocked, I stared at him. Compliments? "Who are you and what have you done to Nathan Jang?"

"I haven’t been a good fiancé," he admitted. "You confessed your feelings when we signed the contracts, and I... I panicked."

"It’s not like my feelings were secret," I said. "I’ve been chasing you since college."

"I know. And I was an asshole."

"Are," I corrected. "You are an asshole." I pulled out my phone and showed him Fiona’s social media posts.

He went pale, then his troubled gaze met mine. "I didn’t know she was posting these."

"Really? The two of you don’t follow each other on any platform?"

"My PR team handles that stuff. I’m only active on WeChat."

"Oh. Well, I guess Fiona laying claim to you all over the Internet is okay then."

"No, it’s not." Nathan punched in a number and then put the phone to his ear. "I want every post with me and Fiona Grand taken off every platform. I don’t care who made the posts. I mean every single one, even if it was ten years ago. Tell PR to block her from all of my social media accounts, too." He ended the call.

"It must be pretty great to be the CEO of the Jang Group."

He grinned. "It really is."

The waiter came by, and I ordered the nitro java.

Nathan raised a brow. "Rough night?"

"The longest of my life." Well, the longest of my second life.

"I felt like my night was pretty long, too."

"Why?"

"I had a dream, Vanessa. No, a nightmare." He reached across the table and clasped my hand. "We were in a warehouse. Fiona shot you, and then she shot me. We died."

My breath caught. He remembers.

"You... you dreamed that?"

"That was the end of the nightmare. What happened before... I can only remember bits and pieces. Like you wearing a green dress. I bought you a ruby necklace." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Carver Haynes was there, too."

"Carver Haynes?" I asked, astonished.

"Yeah, I didn’t like that guy being in my dream, either. I remember he had a crush on you in college."

"But I had a crush on you," I said.

"Do you still like me?"

Yes. My heart didn’t change through three lifetimes. But just because I loved Nathan didn’t mean I would get to spend this life with him. Fiona would make sure of it.

"I don’t want to like you," I said. "Because you don’t really like me. I wish you would just admit that you and Fiona should be together. Break the contract. Marry her. Let me live."

"I don’t want her," he said. "I never did." He squeezed my hand. "But I know I was wrong. I thought she needed my help and... and I chose her. From now on, I will choose you."

"Okay," I said. But I didn’t think it would be that easy.

His phone buzzed. He glanced at it, and then sighed.

"Is it your mom?"

"Fiona," he said.

I nearly choked on my coffee. Of course. "You two are going to our engagement party together, right?"

He laughed. "Why would I take Fiona? I’m marrying you."

I stared at him. "You... want to go with... me?" I pointed at myself. "Since when?"

"You’re my wife. Not her."

The phone buzzed again.

"You might as well answer. She will never stop calling."

Nathan exhaled sharply and picked up. "Fiona, I’m busy—"

I couldn’t hear her words, but her voice was sharp, frantic. Nathan’s grip on my hand tightened.

"No," he said firmly. "I already told you. It’s over."

More screaming from the other end.

Nathan’s expression darkened. "You need to stop this. Now." He hung up and ran a hand through his hair. "She’s losing it."

A chill ran down my spine. Fiona wasn’t the type to accept defeat.

We finished our coffee in tense silence.

When we stepped outside, the sky had darkened ominously, thick storm clouds swallowing what little daylight remained. The unrelenting rain splattered against the café windows as Nathan quickly opened his umbrella and pulled me close beneath its shelter.

"I’ll send you home," he said.

I shook my head. "No need. I have a car at my disposal."

"Vanessa—"

"I’ll be fine," I lied.

He hesitated, then nodded. "Text me when you get home."

I stepped under the eaves and watched Nathan walk away. The moment he turned the corner, I let out a shaky breath.

The rain fell harder, soaking through my thin cotton jacket. I barely noticed. My mind was racing—Nathan remembering fragments of our past life, Fiona’s desperation, the engagement party looming over us like a guillotine.

A car engine roared behind me.

I turned—too slow, too late. Fiona’s silver sedan hurtled toward me, tires screaming against wet pavement. Through the rain-streaked windshield, her face was a mask of pure fury, her lips peeled back from her teeth in a snarl.

She wasn’t stopping.

Adrenaline surged as I tried to leap aside, but my boots skidded on the slick concrete.

The impact was a detonation of white-hot pain.

My body crumpled against the hood with a sickening thud before rolling onto the rain-slicked road.

The world became a carousel of agony—spinning asphalt, stinging rain, the coppery tang of blood flooding my mouth. Somewhere in the distance, Fiona’s tires screeched as she accelerated away, her taillights fading into the distance.

I tried to move, but my limbs wouldn’t obey.

Then everything went black.

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