Rebirth: The Blind Heiress Makes A Deal With The Devil

Now, in the present, Kian sat on the edge of his leather sofa with the phone pressed to his ear.

"I had to wait until Mr. Kazarov left the main floor," Clara’s voice came through the line, hushed and shaking. "He brought her here straight from the dress shop. She arrived looking terribly pale, sir. Extremely weak."

Kian stood up so fast his chair scraped loudly against the floor. He shoved the girl kneeling between his legs away, ignoring the small gasp she made as she stumbled backward onto the carpet.

"Pale?" Kian demanded, his chest tightening with sudden panic. "What do you mean pale? What happened to her?"

"I... I don’t know fully, sir," the maid stammered, terrified by the sharp anger in his voice. "It seems to be something mild! She was sick to her stomach, so the master brought her straight to bed. He canceled all his evening meetings just to stay with her in the room."

Kian breathed out heavily through his nose, his hand clenching into a tight fist. "Is she hurt? Did Kazarov do something to her?"

"No, sir! She’s just resting now. I just wanted to tell you they were back."

Kian rubbed his forehead, his jaw working as he tried to calm the chaotic pounding in his chest. "Keep your eyes on her. Report anything unusual or worth mentioning to me immediately."

"Yes, Mr. Carter."

The line went dead.

Kian pulled the phone away from his ear, his throat tight with frustration. He stared at the dark window, his mind spinning with worry over Isabella, unable to shake the image of her looking pale and sick in another man’s house.

Behind him, Lily picked herself up from the carpet. She smoothed down her tight black dress, looking at him with wide, timid brown eyes. "Sir? Is everything okay? Who was that?"

Kian turned his head, his dark eyes flashing with cold annoyance. "Shut up."

Lily blinked, taking a small step back. "I just... I thought maybe I could help—"

"Get on the bed," Kian cut her off, his voice flat and dead. "On your knees."

Lily hesitated for a second, her lips trembling slightly, but she didn’t dare argue. She walked over to the large bed and climbed onto the mattress, getting on her knees with her short skirt hitched up, wearing no panties under it just as he had instructed her earlier.

Kian walked over slowly. He unbuttoned his cuffs, pulled off his silk tie, and stepped up behind her. He grabbed her wrists, pulling them behind her back, and began wrapping the thick silk tie tightly around her skin, binding her hands together.

Lily flinched, a small shiver running over her body. She looked over her shoulder, her breathing coming fast. She felt scared, but a dark surge of arousal mixed with the fear as she felt his heavy hands on her body.

Kian caught her looking at him. He saw the faint tremble in her shoulders, the fearful, helpless look in her eyes.

His brow furrowed with sudden frustration. He usually loved it but now hated that look. It suddenly reminded him of the same terrified, distant look Isabella had given him right before she left.

"Are you scared of me?" Kian asked softly, his voice tight.

Lily hesitated, biting her lip before giving a tiny, timid nod.

Kian’s jaw tightened. He leaned down, bringing his face close to her ear, his breath warm against her skin. "Don’t be scared," he murmured, his voice laced with a dark, twisted softness. "I’m not a monster, Lily. This is just my way of showing love."

Lily nodded obediently, her cheeks flushing hot. Kian reached around her hip, sliding his fingers down between her thighs. She let out a soft, low moan as he began fingering her, her head falling forward against the pillows as he lost himself in the movement, trying to drown out the memory of his wife.

That same night, miles away in a state-certified testing facility in New Jersey, the building sat quiet under the glow of fluorescent lights.

A scheduled overnight maintenance procedure was underway in the secondary laboratory floor. Techs in gray uniforms moved through the halls, checking control panels and updating internal systems.

At 2:14 AM, a red light began to flash silently on the wall of the primary specimen storage room.

An internal temperature-control valve malfunctioned. The cooling unit shut down, causing the temperature inside the storage locker to rise past the allowed safety margin.

Within minutes, an administrative alarm beeped at the central desk.

"We’ve got a thermal spike in Locker B," a technician said, setting down his clipboard and typing rapidly into the system. "It was only down for eight minutes, but protocol says we have to quarantine the batch."

Several high-priority samples were immediately locked down for mandatory review. The vials containing Isabella’s eye drops weren’t destroyed, nor were they altered.

But under strict state laboratory regulations, any sample exposed to an unverified temperature shift had to undergo a full chain-of-custody revalidation before any official report could be signed.

The final report was put on an automatic hold.

To anyone looking at the system log, it appeared to be a completely ordinary equipment failure, a minor glitch during routine maintenance.

Except on the main security server in the basement, a single line of digital code showed that the maintenance panel had been accessed remotely from an internal terminal just four minutes before the valve failed.

...

The next morning, bright sunshine poured through the high windows of Aaron’s private residence.

In the sunlit sitting room, a wide tablet sat propped up on the tea table, displaying a video call.

On the screen, Finn and Freya were outdoors in the bright green fields of the estate in Moscow. In the background, Pyotr was saddling two large horses near the wooden stables.

Boyar, was barking excitedly, chasing Mr. Cheese who sat perched safely on top of a wooden fence post.

"Pyotr said we can ride all the way down to the river today!" Finn said loudly into the camera, his dark eyes shining with excitement as he held the phone up.

"Mishka, tell him to let us go past the old bridge! He keeps saying no!"

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