Reborn Twice: This Time, I Married His Uncle

"Ms. Quinn, please, come in."

Without a word, Ashlyn Quinn gave a slight nod, lifted her chin, and followed the butler deeper into the estate.

Her gamble had paid off.

She had known from the beginning that the offer she carried would be impossible for that man to ignore.

The walkway wound through a lavish garden bursting with rare, priceless blooms. As Ashlyn stepped beneath the covered corridor, two purebred black guard dogs suddenly charged at her. Each beast was as big as a small boulder, their gaping jaws stained with fresh blood, strands of raw meat still clinging to their teeth. Their eyes snapped onto Ashlyn with the ruthless focus of apex predators, wild hunger blazing in their gaze as they looked ready to tear into her without a moment's hesitation.

Without sparing them another look, Ashlyn continued forward at the same unhurried pace. The two massive dogs might have looked ready to tear her apart, yet she passed between them as if they were harmless pets. As she drew alongside the larger one, she casually lifted a hand and gave its head a firm, almost absentminded pat before stopping precisely three steps in front of the man seated in the wheelchair.

Having lived two lives, she understood one truth better than anyone. No beast was as terrifying as a human.

Sometimes, the person lying beside you every night, the one who knew you better than anyone else, was the very one capable of dragging you into a living nightmare.

The man paid careful attention to the alpine rhododendron before him, a pair of black pruning shears moving with measured precision as he trimmed each branch.

His slender, immaculate fingers carried the quiet confidence of someone skilled at delicate work, every motion graceful.

Dressed in simple light-gray loungewear, he might have appeared approachable, yet the understated outfit couldn't disguise the chilling authority that surrounded him.

The man before Ashlyn was none other than the former head of the Reynolds family.

A devastating car crash had left him confined to a wheelchair, costing him both his mobility and the position that had once been his.

The world had written him off, convinced that the greatest genius the Reynolds family had ever produced had fallen into nothing more than a useless loser.

By then, Nicholas Reynolds had already taken everything, absorbing the vast business empire as though it had always belonged to him.

But Ashlyn knew the truth from her two previous lives. The man who could drive Nicholas to the brink of paranoid obsession, the one who could push him to his breaking point, was this very person meticulously trimming a shrub in front of her now—Nicholas' uncle, Eric Reynolds.

Whether he could walk or not had never mattered. To Nicholas, Eric had always been the bomb waiting beneath his feet.

And this lifetime, Ashlyn had every intention to be the one to light the fuse.

"Mr. Reynolds." With a polite inclination of her head, Ashlyn looked at Eric calmly. "Since you've agreed to see me, I'd rather not waste either of our time. Let's get straight to the point."

Eric gave no sign that he had heard her. Without lifting his gaze, he continued trimming the plant in front of him.

The alpine rhododendron he tended was no ordinary flower. Just a month ago, that same rare variety had fetched an astonishing ten million dollars at an international auction.

A thin layer of perspiration formed across Ashlyn's brow, yet she held her ground. She stood poised and composed, neither bowing to his presence nor challenging it with arrogance.

She drew a deep breath, then finally spoke the words she had come to deliver. "Your severed nerves can't be restored by conventional treatment. The hundred million dollars you've been pouring into treatment every year has accomplished nothing. But I can make you walk again."

During the years she had spent hiding overseas in her previous life, she had created a revolutionary material capable of repairing damaged nerves. With that knowledge already in her mind, she knew that if she started the research immediately, it would not be too late.

"I can bring the feeling of pain back to your legs today," she said without hesitation. "And within six months, I'll have you standing on your own feet."

The declaration sent shock rippling through the air. Behind her, Eric's bodyguards all sucked in a sharp breath, convinced the woman had gone completely insane. Did she have the slightest idea what would become of anyone reckless enough to deceive Eric?

For the first time since Ashlyn arrived, Eric reacted.

The wheelchair pivoted toward her with deliberate slowness until he faced her.

His eyes locked onto hers, cold, piercing, and commanding, the weight of his gaze seeming to drain every trace of warmth from the air.

"Tell me why you want to do this," he said at last. "Then tell me what you want in return."

A dangerous glint flashed through his eyes. Every word came out measured.

Ashlyn knew this was the moment that would decide everything. She replied, "The man we're after is the same person. My conflict with him won't end until one of us is dead. Give me one year. In that time, I'll restore your health completely and help you take back your rightful place as the Reynolds family's head. In exchange, you need to keep me safe and stay out of my affairs while I carry out my own plans. We need to get married. Don't worry; we'll sign a prenuptial agreement. Once that year is over, we'll divorce. I won't make things difficult for you, and I won't take a single cent of your fortune."

She knew that making a bargain with a man like Eric was no different from striking a deal with the devil, but if she wanted revenge for the agony she had endured across two lifetimes, this was the only path left.

Nicholas wasn't merely a self-absorbed egotist. Behind him stood an unknown force—someone influential enough to stand toe-to-toe with even Eric.

If she wanted any chance of bringing him down, she would need someone formidable standing at her side.

Eric's assistants and bodyguards looked as though the world had stopped turning. Shock washed over their faces.

They believed Ashlyn was too bold and reckless.

She had just crossed every line Eric had ever drawn.

Yet Eric showed almost no reaction. His face remained calm, betraying nothing except the faintest glint in his eyes—an emotion too elusive for anyone to read.

"So, you don't want to marry Nicholas?" he asked.

"I don't," Ashlyn answered without the slightest hesitation.

She already knew what came next. For three years, she had been Nicholas' girlfriend. To everyone else watching, she was the hopelessly devoted woman who couldn't bear to leave his side. This drastic change in her attitude would raise questions, and she had already prepared herself for the storm of suspicion that was coming.

The quiet held for only a heartbeat before Eric broke it.

Raising one hand, he casually brushed his fingers through the enormous black guard dog's fur, as if the heavy tension surrounding him didn't exist at all.

"Very well. But, Ms. Quinn... you can't honestly believe a few words are enough to strike a bargain with me. Do you know what becomes of the people who dare lie to me?"

As the last question left his lips, he leaned back against his wheelchair, looking completely at ease. Yet the danger radiating from him was enough to make the air feel frozen, and beneath his calm voice lurked the unmistakable promise of ruthless consequences.

Ashlyn never got the chance to answer. A horrifying scream suddenly ripped through the back courtyard at that moment.