Reborn To Love My Wheelchair Billionaire

Aubree stood in the shadows, her stomach churning at the sound of Brandi's fake, sweet voice.

She didn't hide. She stepped into the light.

Her heavy boots thumped against the hardwood floor.

Brandi snapped her head around. When she saw Aubree, soaked and glaring with murder in her eyes, she gasped and shrank back behind Orville.

Orville jumped up. "Where the hell have you been?" he roared.

Aubree didn't even look at him. She marched straight toward the sofa, towering over the trembling Brandi.

Brandi forced a look of terror onto her face. "Aubree, why are you so wet?" she asked, reaching a hand out to touch Aubree's hoodie.

Aubree's eyes went dead cold. She raised her right hand and slapped Brandi across the face. Hard.

Smack.

The sharp sound echoed in the high-ceilinged room. Brandi's head snapped to the side, a bright red handprint instantly blooming on her cheek.

The room fell silent. Brandi clutched her face, her eyes wide with genuine shock.

Orville froze, stunned. Then, his face turned purple, and he raised his hand to strike Aubree.

Footsteps pounded down the stairs. Foster Bradley rushed into the room and grabbed his father's raised wrist.

"Dad, stop!" he yelled, pulling Aubree behind him. "Aubree, what is wrong with you? Why did you hit her?"

Brandi saw her opening and threw herself onto the rug, wailing.

"I didn't do anything!" she sobbed. "She's just taking her anger out on me!"

Orville shook with rage. "Apologize to your cousin right now!"

Aubree stepped out from behind her brother, a short, cold laugh escaping her lips.

"She is a liar and a manipulator," Aubree said, pointing at Brandi. "She plays the peacemaker to your face, Dad, but she's the one fanning the flames behind your back."

Brandi's crying hitched. Panic flashed in her eyes before she buried her face in her hands. "That's a lie!"

Orville glared at Aubree. "Stop making up excuses."

Aubree's eyes narrowed. She held out her hand.

"Give me your phone, Brandi," she demanded sharply.

Brandi's body jerked, her hand instinctively clamping over the pocket of her robe.

Orville caught the tiny, defensive movement. A flicker of doubt crossed his face.

Aubree didn't wait. She lunged, grabbing Brandi's wrist and yanking her hand away from the pocket with brutal force.

"Stop! That's my privacy!" Brandi screamed. "Uncle, help me!"

Aubree ignored her, reached into the pocket, and pulled out the newest iPhone.

"Aubree, give that back," Orville ordered.

Aubree didn't listen. While Brandi was still struggling, Aubree's thumb moved swiftly over the screen, inputting a six-digit passcode she knew Brandi always used—her own birthday. The phone unlocked.

She opened the iMessage app. The main inbox was clean, but Aubree tapped straight into the "Recently Deleted" folder.

She found a message thread that hadn't been permanently wiped yet.

It was a text sent to Foster Newton.

Aubree shoved the phone into Orville's face.

"Read it, Dad," she said, her voice dripping with ice. "Read what your perfect niece just sent."

The text read: *Plan is working perfectly. Uncle is completely done with her.*