Reborn: Bound by Fate

"Derek Spencer, you're surrounded! Drop your weapons!"

Diana Windsor forced her right eye open, tears welling up as she heard the police sirens outside.

Had the police finally found her?

She tried to get out of bed to open the door, but her skin had fused with the bloodstained sheets. Every movement sent excruciating pain through her body.

It had been three months since she "eloped" with Derek. He'd told her he loved her, only to bring her here to be packaged and auctioned off like merchandise, using her to make one final profit.

They'd removed her uterus, cut out her tongue—organs were prized trophies for those sick perverts. A client had beaten her blind in one eye, shattered both her legs, even carved away half her breast... Yet somehow she'd survived, clinging to life, waiting for any chance to escape this nightmare.

Using every ounce of strength left in her body, she rolled off the bed.

Hearing the coast guard's continued shouts, she dragged herself forward. Even if it killed her, she would expose Derek's crimes!

"Fuck! Goddammit!"

The door burst open to Derek's panicked voice. "Quick, dump this bitch in the ocean! Move it, before we get caught!"

Diana's left hand shot out, desperately clutching Derek's pant leg. The gray fabric instantly stained with a bloody handprint.

Derek's boot connected with Diana's face. "Fucking bitch! If it wasn't for you, how would they have tracked me down? Fuck, Nicholas Spencer is a complete psycho!"

He shouted, "What are you idiots waiting for? Move your asses!"

Diana's fingers were bent back one by one until they snapped, then she was hauled away.

"Derek, you can't do this to me! Nicholas won't let you get away with this!"

She fought desperately, but before she could finish speaking, she was thrown mercilessly into the churning sea.

The icy water shocked her into clarity.

Diana's eyes filled with despair as tears mixed with saltwater. She wasn't going to make it. That was her final thought.

Through blurred vision, she thought she saw Nicholas on the deck above, watching her fall before diving in without hesitation.

He'd finally found her.

Was he trying to save her?

From the very beginning, he was the only one who'd truly cared. Diana was consumed with regret—how desperately she wanted to hold him one more time. But it was too late.

Seawater flooded her lungs, bringing that fatal suffocating sensation. Diana instinctively thrashed her arms.

She seemed to knock something over.

Diana's eyes snapped open, gasping for air.

"Diana, if you don't hold still for the prosthetics, you'll be recognized. Can't you just bear with it?"

Diana opened her eyes to find her best friend Mandy Johnson's annoyed face staring back at her.

Mandy sighed. "Fine, I know you're a pampered socialite. I'll just start with the makeup then."

Mandy peeled off the silicone from Diana's face and began applying layers of paint. Minutes later, Diana stared at her reflection in complete shock.

She wore a purple suit with a green shirt, her face painted ghoulish white with a blood-red grin and heavy black circles around her eyes. She looked exactly like the Joker from Batman.

Glancing at Mandy beside her—dressed in a tight black catsuit that accentuated her curves, with perfect makeup and cat ears—Diana looked even more ridiculous by comparison.

That's when it hit her: she'd been reborn. Three years back, to her and Nicholas's engagement party.

Her parents had recently died in a car accident. At their funeral, Nicholas had demanded she honor the marriage contract their families had arranged, threatening to withdraw all business support from the Windsor Family and refuse to pay for her grandmother's expensive medical treatments.

The Windsor Family was already teetering on bankruptcy; her parents' death had only made things worse. Faced with Nicholas's ultimatum and pressure from the board of directors, Diana had no choice but to agree.

She hadn't truly wanted to marry Nicholas—she was in love with Derek and was already planning to elope with him.

How could she have known that Derek was a complete bastard who'd been sleeping with Mandy all along, never caring for her, only using her?

Remembering her horrific death in her previous life, Diana clenched her fists, unable to hide the hatred burning in her eyes.

Sensing her strange mood, Mandy quickly reassured her. "Diana, don't worry. Derek's ready to pick you up. Dressed like this, Nicholas will never recognize you."

Looking at the seductive Mandy before her, Diana sneered inwardly.

In her past life, when Diana didn't want to go through with the engagement, Mandy had come up with this brilliant plan: pretend to agree to the engagement, then request a cosplay performance at the party.

Mandy would help disguise her, then slip away with the other performers.

Originally, Mandy had planned to comfort the heartbroken Nicholas after Diana's departure.

But before Diana could even leave the hotel, Nicholas had seen through their scheme. In his fury, he'd raped her, then kept her imprisoned for three years.

During those three years, the only people Diana saw were Mandy, who occasionally visited the villa for heart-to-heart talks, and Derek, whom Mandy sometimes brought to see her.

Diana had treated these two as family, as the only light in her dark existence.

Otherwise, how could she have been so thoroughly deceived later?

Derek and Mandy wanted money—they wanted to use her against Nicholas. And she'd been stupid enough to hand herself over to them, enduring daily torture before drowning miserably at sea...

As Mandy continued chattering beside her, Diana stood up. "I need to use the restroom."

"Okay, but hurry up."

Mandy didn't notice anything unusual and tugged her neckline even lower.

Diana hurried out of the dressing room toward the bathroom. She needed to think of a strategy—something that wouldn't anger Nicholas but also wouldn't alert Derek and the others to her change.

Right now her family's company still existed, her grandmother was alive—there was still time to fix everything.

But as she pushed open the restroom door, she heard a girl's scream. Diana suddenly remembered that in her masculine disguise, she really shouldn't be using the women's room.

She quickly apologized and headed to the men's room next door. Fortunately, it was empty. She rushed to the window and looked down—three stories wasn't impossibly high, but she wasn't sure if jumping would cripple her.

As Diana debated whether to take the leap or try to blend into the crowd to escape, she heard faint gasping from one of the stalls.

She stared wide-eyed in that direction—someone seemed to be collapsed on the floor.

After a few seconds of internal struggle, she pushed open the stall door.

If it was just some drunk, she could steal his clothes and disguise herself to get out.

But when she saw who was on the floor, she froze in terror.

It was Nicholas!

Nicholas's face was flushed, his tie hanging loose around his neck, his shirt unbuttoned to reveal his solid chest. His breathing was labored, and he seemed to be in considerable distress.

Just as Diana turned to flee, someone grabbed her wrist hard, pulling her into Nicholas's embrace.

His burning, familiar breath washed over her neck, making Diana's body go rigid with fear.

Memories of her imprisonment in her past life crashed through her mind, making her tremble uncontrollably.

Nicholas struggled to sit up, then wrapped his arm around her shoulder, commanding, "Take me to my room. 302."

Only then did Diana snap back to reality. "You've been drugged?"

Nicholas let out a grunt. Diana tried to push him away, but Nicholas's nearly six-foot-three frame was far too much for her to handle.

Footsteps echoed outside. Diana gritted her teeth and helped Nicholas out of the restroom.

Just around the corner, she heard Mandy's voice: "You're certain Mr. Nicholas Spencer drank that water, right?"

"Yes, Miss Johnson. Everything was done exactly as you instructed." A waiter-dressed man obsequiously handed over a key card. "Mr. Spencer's room is 302."

"Excellent work." Mandy handed him an envelope and headed toward the room.

Something clicked in Diana's mind. She used all her strength to help Nicholas downstairs, searching his pockets for car keys as they walked.

Nicholas let her fumble around, leaning half his weight against her as if embracing her. But Diana was too focused to care—finally, the pieces from her past life were falling into place.

Though Nicholas had a dark and unpredictable personality, he'd never actually forced himself on her before.

Back then, with her parents dead, her grandmother dying, being coerced into engagement and then raped by Nicholas, Diana had only felt hatred toward him.

She'd never questioned why he'd assaulted her.

Now everything made sense.

Nicholas had been drugged by Mandy!

No wonder in her past life, when she'd left the hotel, Mandy hadn't come to meet her—she'd been waiting in Nicholas's room for him instead.

The car's unlock sound chirped. Diana struggled to stuff Nicholas into the back seat of his Cullinan, then climbed into the driver's seat.

"You don't even have a license and you're driving?" Nicholas's voice came from behind. Diana started to turn around, only to be lifted with one arm and pulled onto his lap.

"You—!" Diana cut herself off abruptly.

Looking like this, Nicholas definitely couldn't recognize her, but the moment she spoke, she'd be finished.

As she wondered how to escape, Nicholas bit her lip playfully.

Diana gasped in pain, opening her mouth, and Nicholas's tongue immediately invaded, giving her no chance to resist.

Diana was utterly shocked, her heart nearly stopping.

Even looking like this, Nicholas could still bring himself to kiss her?

Had he really recognized her, or was he so drugged that any warm body would do?

Diana pounded on Nicholas's chest. He frowned slightly and finally released her. "Diana, what the hell are you playing at?"

"You recognized me?" Diana's voice was hoarse, her eyes wide with disbelief.

Nicholas wiped the lipstick from her mouth and smirked coldly. "I'd know you even if you were burned to ash."

He held Diana in his arms, his voice seductive yet tinged with vulnerability. "Sweetheart, help me out, won't you?"