Reborn, She's Back for Revenge novel Chapter 35

Chapter 35

The moon floated high, turning the empty four–lane into a silver ribbon. Zachary bent over again, hands on his knees, lungs on fire “That’s it. I’m calling an Uber.”

Edith’s sneaker connected with his backside–light, but enough to sting. “Two miles left. Move.” She took off again, ponytail swinging, breath steady as a metronome.

Zachary groaned but pushed forward. Edith didn’t glance back. “Breathe in through your nose. Out through your mouth. Deeper.”

He matched her rhythm–lungs burning at first, then easing. Wind roared in his ears; headlights streaked past, casting fleeting shadows.

For the first time in weeks, his mind was quiet–no equations, no Melanie drama, no shouting matches. Just the road stretching ahead and Edith’s silhouette cutting through the dark.

A memory elbowed its way in: him and Cedric racing down the sidewalk, leaving Edith behind in her stupid patent–leather shoes.

She’d kicked them off eventually, running barefoot until her feet were raw, but she never caught up. The tears on her face had been legendary. They’d laughed–right up until she marched inside and ratted them out to their parents.

Zachary’s mouth twitched at the memory–then flattened. That had been years ago. Now she ran like she could lap the cross–country team without spiking her heart rate.

‘Farm living for six years, he thought bitterly. Probably chased chickens or hauled hay bales or whatever the hell people do out there. The idea sat like a rock in his stomach.

The wrought–iron gates of Lovett Manor finally loomed ahead, and Edith slowed to a stop on the driveway. “Tonight’s agenda,” she said, ticking off points on her fingers. “Memorize one poem, ten vocab words, and three math problems. Think you can manage that?”

Zachary wiped sweat from his forehead. “Joseph only has to do one of those. Why am I on the deluxe plan?”

“Joseph has five years before high school placement exams,” Edith said, already heading inside. “You have three months.”

Zachary trailed her inside. Joseph was parked on the living–room rug, worksheets fanned around him like a half–finished Monopoly game. Edith’s face softened–a millimeter, but it happened.

“Zachary, sit with Joseph. I’m going to shower, and then we’re reviewing.

10

“I need a shower too,” Zachary muttered, plucking at his sweat–soaked shirt.

“Finish the list first.” She dropped the textbook against his chest with a thud. “Refuse, and there will be consequences.”

Zachary’s face paled “Tyrant. He flopped onto the couch, the book sliding off his lap–and something hard dug into his thigh. He reached under the cushion and pulled out a handheld console, the screen frozen mid–boss battle.

“Well, well, Joseph,” Zachary drawled, grinning. “Playing both sides, huh?”

whil

Joseph lunged for the console, eyes darting toward the stairs. “Shh! You didn’t see this, okay? I’ll cover for you later.” He powered it off and stuffed it back into the couch

Zachary scoffed. “Pathetic. Since

Cushions like a smuggler hiding contraband.

are you this scared of her?”

• and i

Joseph blinked up at him, innocent as ever. “You’re sitting here studying, Zach. Pre–Edith, you’d have already set the book on fire.”

He flipped open the literature anthology. The first poem might as well have been in another language, the vocab list looked like alphabet soup, and the math problems? Pure hieroglyphics.

For one horrifying second, Zachary Lovett stared at the page and wondered if he’d forgotten how to read.

Her bra clung to her skin, damp with sweat, and she peeled it off with a relieved sigh. Steam fogged the glass door as she reached for a towel.

Then–a sound. Faint, but unmistakable. The whisper of fabric against brick outside her window.

Thanks to the Heiress System’s Super Hearing perk, she didn’t just hear it–she analyzed it. The texture, the weight of the movement.

At first, she dismissed it as a gardener’s rake until she heard voices. Hushed, deliberate. Not Engloria. Not Caldunese. Aravian.

Their Engloria teacher sometimes slipped it into lectures, and Edith recognized the rhythm–sharp consonants, lilting vowels—but not the meaning.

Her fingers tightened around the towel. Someone’s on the property. She dressed in record time, repeating the foreign syllables under her breath like a mantra. By the time she stepped onto the balcony, the night was silent again, the intruders gone.

But Edith wasn’t one to leave loose ends. She pulled out her phone, opened a translation app, and recited the memorized phrases. The screen flickered, then displayed:

“Target: Edith Lovett. Eldest daughter. Turns 18 in three months. The Lovett Group, founded 18 years ago, went public within five She holds 10% equity–fully accessible at majority.”

Her pulse didn’t spike. It slowed, deliberate and cold. ‘I’ve been careful since the rewind. Who’s digging into me now?‘

[Ding! A true heiress masters foreign tongues. Reward: Basic Aravian unlocked.]

years.

The garbled text on her screen suddenly rearranged itself into perfect clarity. Edith’s lips curved into a smile–not warm, not amused. The kind of smile a chess player makes when they see three moves ahead.

She closed the app and headed downstairs, dressed in soft sweats that did nothing to soften the edge in her posture.

At the foot of the stairs, Zachary and Joseph slammed their textbooks open in perfect, panicked sync, pretending they’d been studying the whole time.

Zachary risked a glance upward. ‘Edith looked… different. Not just pretty. Not just sharp. She looked dangerous.

Like their homeroom teacher on the days she walked in with a stack of quizzes and a glint in her eye. The kind of woman who could level you with a glance. Zachary swallowed hard and dropped his gaze.

2/2