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Reborn As The Cold Villain's Daughter Novel Cover

Reborn As The Cold Villain's Daughter

After dying, I wake up in the clumsy body of a six-month-old infant. A system informs me I am now the illegitimate daughter of Edward McClure, a ruthless corporate villain. Destined to be abandoned tonight and eventually die at the hands of traffickers, I must change my fate. My mission is to stop my father's eventual suicide, but first, I must survive his disgust. To avoid the orphanage, I have to win over this cold tyrant before he throws me away.
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Chapter 2

Edward's eyes remained glued to the tiny hand waving in the air. His jaw clenched so tight the muscle ticked beneath his skin. He didn't step forward. He just stared, calculating the threat level of the infant before him.

Hayley's arm began to shake from the effort. He wasn't moving. Panic flared in her chest.

She needed him to react. She twisted her torso, trying to push herself higher to reach him.

It was a fatal miscalculation.

Her heavy head threw off her balance. She pushed her weight against the mesh siding of the crib, but a decorative wooden fixture, improperly secured by the negligent nanny, gave way under the sudden pressure. A terrifying gap opened up, and half of her torso slipped over the edge.

Gravity took over.

A genuine gasp tore from Hayley's throat as the floor rushed up to meet her. The hardwood looked solid and unforgiving.

Edward's pupils contracted to pinpricks.

His body moved before his brain could process the action. He lunged forward, his long arm sweeping down in a blur of motion.

Just inches before her face smashed into the floor, two large, hard hands clamped firmly under her armpits.

The sudden stop jerked Hayley's shoulders. She gasped for air, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. Pure survival instinct took over. Her tiny hands shot out and grabbed the first solid thing they could find.

Her fists locked onto the lapels of his suit.

Edward froze. He was bent at an awkward angle, holding the heavy, squirming weight of the baby against his chest.

Hayley stared wide-eyed at his face, mere inches from hers. The fabric in her fists was incredibly soft-a custom Tom Ford suit.

Edward's breathing turned shallow. The scent of baby powder and sour milk invaded his personal space. His chest tightened. For a man with severe germaphobia, this physical proximity was suffocating.

He tried to lower her back into the crib.

Hayley refused to let go. Her fingers were tangled tight in his expensive silk tie. She was terrified he would drop her.

Edward let out a sharp, irritated breath. He used his free hand to pry her fingers off his tie. He didn't know how to be gentle. His large fingers dug into her small knuckles, peeling them back with brute force.

A sharp pain shot through Hayley's hand.

The physical hurt bypassed her adult reasoning. Tears flooded her eyes instantly. She opened her mouth and let out a deafening, ear-piercing scream.

The sound bounced off the walls of the nursery. Edward flinched, the veins at his temples throbbing. His tolerance snapped.

"Shut up." he growled, his voice vibrating with dark menace.

He tried to use his sheer presence to intimidate her into silence. But a baby's auditory system only registered the harsh volume. Hayley cried harder, her face turning purple.

As she wailed, the intense emotional stress triggered a biological reaction she couldn't stop. Her six-month-old sphincter muscles, completely unequipped for control, gave out.

Hayley felt a sudden, sharp cramp in her lower abdomen.

No. No, no, no.

She tried to squeeze her legs together, desperately trying to hold back the flood.

It was useless. The adult soul was powerless against the infant body.

A rush of warm liquid soaked through her thin diaper. It spread instantly, saturating the cotton of her onesie.

Because Edward was holding her flush against his torso, the liquid had nowhere else to go.

Edward felt a strange, spreading heat against his stomach.

He looked down.

On the pristine, charcoal-gray fabric of his custom suit, a dark, wet stain was expanding rapidly.

The faint, unmistakable scent of urine hit the air.

Edward's sanity shattered.

He sucked in a sharp breath. Every muscle in his body turned to stone. His face drained of color, then flushed with a rage so pure it was terrifying.

Hayley stopped crying the second the pee hit his suit. She stared up at him, her eyes wide with absolute horror.

Critical Alert! the system shrieked in her head. Villain hostility at maximum capacity!

Edward's arms began to shake. The urge to throw the contaminated object across the room was overwhelming.

Hayley felt his grip loosening. He was going to drop her.

She let go of his tie and threw her arms and legs around his forearm, clinging to him like a desperate octopus.

The movement smeared the wet fabric of her onesie directly across his pristine cuff.

Edward closed his eyes. He dragged a ragged breath through his teeth, fighting the urge to commit murder.

He didn't throw her. Instead, he spun on his heel.

He marched toward the nursery door, his strides long and aggressive. He carried her away from his body like a biohazard, his face a mask of lethal fury.

Hayley dangled from his arm, watching the hallway lights blur past, her mind screaming in absolute despair.

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