Abandoned In The Fire: Reborn A Queen

The grand crystal chandelier shattered, pinning my leg as the inferno consumed the hall.

Through the suffocating smoke, I saw my fiancé, Preston.

"Preston!" I screamed, the pain in my voice raw and desperate.

He stopped and looked back at me, surrounded by a wall of fire.

But then my stepsister, Breanna, let out a pathetic, calculated whimper and buried her face in his chest.

Preston gave a resolute nod, turned his back on me for the last time, and carried her to safety.

He left me to burn.

I only survived because a cold-eyed stranger pulled me from the collapsing wreckage.

When I woke up, Preston had already spun a heroic narrative to the press.

He even broke into my apartment, gaslighting me about his "instincts" and threatening to bankrupt my family's company if I dared to cancel our engagement.

Breanna didn't waste any time either, moving her vulgar pink heels and celebrity magazines right into my CEO office.

For three years, I had suppressed my own identity, packing away my sharp suits to play the perfect, submissive fiancée.

I couldn't believe I had traded my soul for a coward who would abandon me for a single fake tear.

But public humiliation was too messy, and I refused to be a victim.

Putting on my sharpest blood-red power suit, I walked straight into my company, slapped the prenuptial termination agreement against his chest, and prepared to burn his entire world to the ground.