Reborn In a Murderer’s Embrace

Chapter 51



Colin!

The nutcase from the orphanage.

The killer who confessed to taking my life!

What on earth is he doing here?

He seemed just as taken aback, staring at me for what felt like an eternity.

Late to the realization, I scrambled to wrap a towel around myself and turned to fumble for my phone, intending to call the cops.

But fear had me shaking so much that after an eternity of searching in this unfamiliar place. I couldn’t find my phone. It was like being trapped in a nightmare, desperately trying to break free but utterly powerless.

Kneeling on the floor, I looked at my reflection in the mirror, that strange yet somewhat familiar face staring back at me.

“Ah!” I cried out in horror, touching the face with a sense of disbelief.

No, this couldn’t be right; I was dead. Who was the person in the mirror?

It took what felt like ages for my frantic breathing to slow. In that moment, I realized I had been reborn into the body of a completely unknown woman!

“You…” The silence hung heavy before I tentatively broke it.

“We just wanted a child, a child to carry on the Langley family legacy. You’ll get what you want. Now get out if you don’t want to die!” His voice was laced with venom.

I could see it, the dark intent to kill lurking in his eyes. He wants to end my life!

A murderer is still a murderer, no doubt about it. The hostility and murderous aura couldn’t be concealed.

Wariness in my gaze, I reached for the bedside lamp, ready to fight back at.any moment.

Without a phone, I couldn’t call for help, and the current situation had me panicked. I didn’t know who I was, and even less why I was sharing a bed with a killer!

When he seemed to sense the murderous look in my eyes, Colin’s expression grew even darker. We were like beasts ready to tear each other apart, neither of us willing to drop our guard.

Just as I was trying to force myself to calmly assess the situation, the door opened, and a middle–aged man in a wheelchair was wheeled in. Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

“Foebe Larson, you were quite the wild one last night.” The man smirked with ill–intent. “The old Mr. Langley agreed to a union between the Langleys and the Larsons, offering financial

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support to your family in exchange for you bearing the Langley heir. This arrangement isn’t for your enjoyment!”

Confusion furrowed my brow.

Foebe? The Larson family? The Langley family? A union? Bearing an heir?

After the middle–aged man left the room, I hurried to follow but was stopped by a nanny outside. “Let me out! Why am I being kept here?”

“Ms. Larson, your duty is to provide the Langley family with an heir, to save your own family. the Larsons. To ensure you conceive during this ovulation cycle, you’ll need to endure a bit longer.”

With that, the door was shut in my face.

“Let me out!” I was angry and scared, desperate to understand my current predicament.

Why had I become nothing more than a breeding tool for this murderer?

“Shut up.” Colin’s voice held a tinge of irritation as he spoke hoarsely, rummaging for something.

“Where is it?” He was completely bare, his hostility palpable.

His aura of menace had me cowed, and I found myself reassessing the madman before me.

I was used to seeing him in ill–fitting clothes, baggy and loose, never imagining that he could be so striking.

Objectively speaking, whether it was his physique or his looks, Colin could be considered a prime specimen. If I hadn’t already died once, I would have found it hard to connect him with the person who had so cruelly ended my life.

“Where are my things?” He advanced on me, his grip tightening around my neck in a loss of control.

In that moment, his intent to kill was evident. He seemed furious that I had shared his bed, that I had touched his belongings.

The sensation of suffocation hit, and the shadow of death loomed me once again. I flailed against Colin, instinctively striking at his neck.

“Phoebe, if you ever run into trouble, aim for the attacker’s Adam’s apple. It can incapacitate them momentarily, giving you a chance to escape,” I remembered a piece of advice from the past.


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