Rebirth: The Blind Heiress Makes A Deal With The Devil

The black car cut smoothly through the city traffic, but inside the car, the air felt like glass about to shatter.

Isabella sat frozen in the backseat, her head resting against the cool window. Her mind wouldn’t stop spinning.

It was a terrifying, endless loop of Kian’s smug voice, the sudden bang of the judge’s gavel, and the cold realization that her body was no longer entirely her own.

They knew. ’He’ knew. How could he possibly know?

Across from her, Niko was practically vibrating with rage.

The cheerful, easygoing lawyer who usually made light of everything was completely gone.

"Blyad!" Niko spat, slamming his phone down onto the leather seat.

He let out a string of harsh, filthy Russian curses, his face red, his hands shaking as he adjusted his tie.

"That complete snake! Arthur and Kian.. scum, absolute fucking scum! To pull a stunt like that right in front of Daniel? They knew they couldn’t win on the legal merits today so they dragged her private business into the mud!"

With every angry word out of Niko’s mouth, Isabella’s shoulders pulled tighter. The heavy, dark curses bounced around the tight space of the car, making her stomach coil into harder knots.

She shrank back against the leather, her sightless eyes wide, staring at nothing as her breathing grew fast and shallow.

Aaron, sitting right beside her, caught the shift instantly. He felt the cold air radiating off her skin, saw the way her fingers dug into the fabric of her skirt.

He didn’t raise his voice. He simply turned his head and gave Niko a single, heavy look.

Niko stopped mid-curse. His mouth stayed open for a second, catching the silent warning in Aaron’s blue eyes.

Niko glanced at Isabella, saw how pale and worried she looked, and immediately swallowed his rage.

"Ah... Isabella," Niko said, his tone shifting back into his familiar, warm warmth, though his breath was still a little ragged.

"Hey, listen to me. Don’t listen to my foul mouth. You are fine. We are going to be completely fine. Daniel didn’t grant them custody or pause the divorce; he just ordered a standard check to keep the record clean. It’s just a delay tactic."

Isabella swallowed hard, her voice trembling. "Niko... how did they find out? Nobody knew. Only the doctor, and Aaron, and..." Her voice trailed off.

She turned her head toward Aaron’s side of the car, desperate for an answer that made sense. "How did Kian get that information?"

Aaron reached out, his big, warm hand covering her cold knuckles, squeezing gently.

"We have a rat in the house," Aaron said simply.

The words were plain, heavy, and absolute.

He didn’t sugarcoat it, but the calm steady rhythm of his voice grounded her just enough to keep her from floating away into total panic.

By the time the heavy iron gates of the Kazarov estate swung open and the sedan rolled up the long drive, Aaron had already set things in motion.

He didn’t tell Isabella, but the moment his mind had connected the doctor’s visit to Kian’s sudden move in court, he had sent a brief text to his head of security at the house: ’Detain the new maid. Now.’

As soon as the car stopped, Aaron stepped out and held his arm for Isabella, guiding her carefully up the front steps. Two guards met them at the entrance.

"Take her up to the main bedroom," Aaron said quietly, handing Isabella over to the older man. "Make sure she drinks some warm tea."

Isabella hesitated, her blind gaze turning back toward Aaron. "Aaron? Where are you going?"

"I’ll be right up, princess," he murmured, his thumb brushing the side of her jaw. "Go rest."

Once the guards led her down the long hallway, two of Aaron’s security men stepped out from the side corridor. They looked tense, standing at stiff attention.

"Report," Aaron commanded, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous register.

"Boss... she’s gone," the lead guard said, sweat glistening on his forehead.

"We went to her quarters the second we got your message, but the room was cleared out. We checked the internal cameras. She snuck out through the east service door twenty minutes ago."

Aaron didn’t yell. His eyes simply went dark, cold as winter ice. The confirmation was right there.

She had been bought, she had spied on Isabella, and she had run straight to her demise.

"She thinks she’s fast," Aaron said softly. He pulled his heavy gold watch back on his wrist.

"I want every camera feed within ten miles of this property pulled immediately. City traffic cams, private business feeds, everything. Find her and bring her to me before sunrise tomorrow."

"Yes, Boss!"

The guards scattered like men fleeing a burning building. Within minutes, the entire estate was on high alert.

The black-suited men moved through the grounds like shadows, locking down gates, pulling storage hard drives, and making the remaining household staff line up in the main kitchen for immediate, brutal questioning.

Down in the lower staff quarters, the remaining maids were terrified. The heavy footsteps of Aaron’s men echoed down the halls as room after room was tossed and searched.

One of the younger maids, her face pale, slipped into her private bathroom and locked the door. Her hands shook violently as she dialed a cell phone number she had saved under a fake name.

The line rang twice before the runaway maid picked up.

"Hello?" the runaway maid whispered nervously into the receiver.

"Where the hell are you?!" the maid in the house hissed, her voice barely above a breath. "They know! Mr. Kazarov’s men are tearing the whole estate apart looking for you! They just pulled Maria into the office! You were right to run!"

"I’m fine," the runaway maid said, though her voice was breathless and panicked. "I’m on a bus right now. I’m planning to head to the countryside to stay with my distant relatives for a few weeks to lay low. "

"Just don’t ever come back here," the house maid warned, listening to the heavy boots passing outside her bathroom door. "If Aaron Kazarov catches you, he’ll bury you under the concrete. Be careful!"

"I will. I’m hanging up."

The line went dead.

Meanwhile, up in the private study, Niko was pacing back and forth across the thick Persian rug, pouring himself a shot of straight vodka.

"I still can’t believe it," Niko muttered, tossing the alcohol down his throat. "How did Kian even manage to plant someone inside your house, Aaron? Your security is tight as a vault."

Aaron sat behind his heavy oak desk, his face bathed in the dim light of his laptop screen as he watched live traffic feeds updating across the screen.

"I underestimated how desperate he was," Aaron said smoothly, his fingers tapping against the wood. "A desperate man doesn’t care about rules or pride. He paid enough money to buy off a girl who thought she could disappear without a trace."

Niko wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, leaning against the desk.

"What about Arthur Pendleton?" Aaron asked.

"I ran a complete deep-dive on his background like you asked. Everything came back squeaky clean. His firm, his taxes, his personal life, the man has a sparkling record. There’s not a single thread to pull on."

Aaron didn’t look surprised. A faint, cold curve touched his mouth.

"I expected that," Aaron said quietly. "Men like Arthur don’t leave messy trails. They hide behind clean papers and expensive suits. And that’s exactly why standard legal methods don’t work on them. When a man keeps his hands clean, you don’t look for dirt on his shirt, you step on his throat until he breaks."

Before Niko could reply, his phone buzzed violently on the desk. He picked it up, scrolled for three seconds, and let out a long breath.

"It’s out," Niko said grimly. "The courtroom press leaked the story. The internet is already tearing itself apart."

..

Outside the estate, the rest of the world was in utter chaos.

Within an hour of the courtroom doors opening, headlines exploded across every news site, social media platform, and trashy celebrity gossip blog in the country.

’’BILLIONAIRE DIVORCE TAKES SHOCKING TURN: COURT ORDERS PREGNANCY VERIFICATION FOR ISABELLA CARTER’’

’’IS ISABELLA CARTER PREGNANT? KIAN CARTER’S LEGAL TEAM DROPS BOMBSHELL IN CLOSED HEARING’’

The trashier blogs were even more vicious.

’’DID SHE CHEAT AGAIN? ISABELLA CARTER’S UNBORN CHILD—KIAN OR KAZAROV?’’

The comment sections were pure toxicity.

"Wait, she’s pregnant? With Kian’s baby? But didn’t everyone say she left him for Aaron Kazarov months ago??"

"The math isn’t mathing! If she’s been living with Kazarov, who the hell is the father??"

"Kian is literally fighting the divorce because of the baby! He wants his family back!"

"She cheated on him, ruined his name, and now she’s hiding his kid in another man’s mansion. What a manipulative bitch!"

The wild theories spun completely out of control, constructing a narrative that was completely wrong, completely twisted and entirely public.

Across town, inside the massive central sitting room of the main Kingston mansion, the news hit like a grenade.

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