​After Rebirth, I Replaced Her as Everyone's Crush

"Ember, I had no idea yesterday was your and Gab's anniversary. If I'd known, I would've insisted he not come to the hospital with me. If you need to be mad at someone, blame me."

Who the hell is making all that noise...

Irritated, I glanced up to find a delicate-featured girl with tears streaming down her face. Something about her looked familiar. I froze for a second, my brain trying to place her. Then ice shot down my spine.

Isabelle Pryce? That C-list starlet who'd been circling my husband like a vulture?

I remembered I'd shown up pregnant to visit Gabriel on set. Isabelle had oh-so-sweetly offered to take me to find him. Gabriel was nowhere to be found, but Isabelle's hands sure found my back—right before she shoved me off that cliff. Two lives ended in one brutal push.

So... I'd been reborn?

Rage flooded through me like wildfire.

SMACK!

My palm connected hard with Isabelle's porcelain cheek. The room went dead silent. Then every camera and microphone at the wrap party swiveled toward me like I was the main event.

Gabriel, who'd been treating me like furniture all night, shot up from his seat and stormed over, fury radiating off him in waves.

"Ember Blake, have you lost your damn mind?"

"Gab, don't be angry with Ember. She's just upset you went to the hospital with me yesterday instead of spending your anniversary together. It's all my fault." Isabelle clutched her reddening cheek, the picture of wounded innocence as she tugged gently on Gabriel's sleeve.

"Such a serious injury." I let my gaze drift to the band-aid on Isabelle's hand, my tone dripping with sarcasm. "A band-aid-level emergency. Totally worth dragging him to the hospital."

A tiny scratch and she'd weaponized it into a damsel-in-distress moment. Impressive, really.

"I don't know what game you're playing, but right now, you're going to apologize to Belle." Gabriel's voice was sharp, his eyes boring into me with barely contained anger.

Of course. Gabriel never could resist a crying woman. An apology? He could dream on. The only way I'd apologize to that snake would be if she was diagnosed with stage four cancer—and even then, I'd have to think about it.

"Gabriel. Divorce." I met his stare head-on, my voice flat and cold.

The demand clearly caught him off guard. His expression cycled through shock, disbelief, and annoyance before his voice dropped dangerously low. "In front of all these reporters? At my wrap party? What the hell are you trying to pull, Ember?"

Ha. Everything I did was just me "pulling something" to him.

I turned on my heel and walked out without another word. Tomorrow's tabloid headlines practically wrote themselves: 'Gabriel Sinclair's Wife Assaults Rising Starlet, Demands Divorce at Public Event.' Let them talk. Soon enough, everyone would know I wasn't bluffing.

In the parking garage, my driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror. "Mrs. Sinclair, back to the house?"

I had this ritual. After every one of Gabriel's wrap parties, I'd head home early to make hangover soup from scratch, timing it perfectly so it'd be ready when he stumbled in drunk. Three years. I'd never missed once.

Now? Gabriel could go straight to hell. I wasn't making him a damn thing. All I wanted was to crash and not think about any of this. Besides, he wouldn't be home tonight anyway. Isabelle probably needed a good hour or two sobbing into his chest.

She'd worked so hard to destroy me, never realizing Gabriel's real endgame didn't include her either. In my past life, a year from now, Gabriel would meet his actual true love. To protect her, he'd use me as a human shield—deliberately stoking Isabelle's jealousy until she snapped and killed me and my unborn child.

Pathetic. His legal wife was nothing but a convenient stepping stone for his real romance.

The sound of an engine cut through the quiet, growing louder. Gabriel was home?

"Ember! You went too far tonight!" He slammed through the door, practically vibrating with rage. "Get in the car. You're going to apologize to Belle. Now."

Always with the apologies. I'd heard that demand so many times in my last life I could've screamed it in my sleep.

I twisted the wedding ring on my finger—it really had gotten loose. "You know what? This hasn't fit right in a long time." Just like this joke of a marriage and this waste of a man. Both belonged in the trash.

My indifference only made him angrier. He grabbed my chin roughly, forcing me to look at him. "Playing hard to get now? Or did you forget how you schemed your way into my bed in the first place?"

A bitter laugh escaped me. He'd always used my love for him as license to treat me like garbage. But here's the thing, Gabriel—I don't love you anymore. So what are you going to do about it?

Isabelle's ringtone cut through the tension. Gabriel dropped his hand like I'd burned him and answered, his entire demeanor softening.

Her saccharine voice oozed through the speaker. "Gab, I'm so worried. What if Ember's angry with you because of me? You've been working yourself to exhaustion. Why can't she be more understanding?" A pause, then: "For your sake, so you can finally get some rest... I'd let her slap me again if it meant you two could make peace."

Every word was calculated poison. She'd positioned me as the villain, reminded him I'd hit her, and painted herself as the martyr willing to suffer for his happiness. If she put this much effort into actual acting instead of manipulation, she might've won an Oscar.

Right on cue, Gabriel's expression hardened. "Ember's not worth your apology. She's the one in the wrong. Don't worry—I won't let you suffer for nothing."

Because of Isabelle, I'd been dragged through the tabloid mud more times than I could count. Gabriel had never once defended me. But let her shed a few crocodile tears, and he'd force his own wife to grovel to his mistress.

I couldn't stay here tonight. Marrying Gabriel Sinclair had been the worst decision of my life. Getting a second chance and still having to deal with his bullshit on day one? Just my luck.

I grabbed a jacket and shot him a look dripping with disdain. "Don't let me interrupt your little chat. The house is all yours. Fair warning though—I have standards. Don't bring trash home with you."

The 'trash' being Isabelle, obviously. I didn't need to look at Gabriel to know his face had gone nuclear. They were so obsessed with each other? Great. I hoped they'd choke on it.

I ended up at a corner dive bar, the bass so loud it rattled my ribcage. Right now, I wanted nothing more than to drown my thoughts in alcohol and forget this entire disaster of an evening.

"Something strong. Thanks." I slid a few bills across the bar to the bartender. He poured me a glass without comment.

The liquor burned going down, heat flooding my system after just one drink. I knocked back a second. Then a third. The edges of the room started going fuzzy.

Through the pleasant haze, I noticed a man in a black dress shirt walking past. Even with my blurred vision, I could tell he was gorgeous.

"Flying solo?" I reached out and snagged his sleeve.

He turned, one eyebrow raised in amusement. Sharp jawline. Straight nose. Storm-gray eyes. Holy hell. Even better looking than Gabriel...

I tugged on his shirt, leaning in close. "Are you a model? How much for the night?"

He didn't answer, just studied me with those intense eyes. When he stayed silent, I fumbled through my purse and slapped every bill I had against his chest. "I've got money. Sit down and drink with me..."

A slow smile curved his lips as he exhaled a stream of smoke in my direction. "Sweetheart, you sure you should be in a place like this dressed like that?"

I glanced down. Buttoned-up white blouse. Sensible short puffer jacket. I looked like I'd wandered in from a PTA meeting. I shrugged off the jacket, the movement revealing curves I usually kept hidden. My figure was damn good—I just dressed like a nun most days. I grabbed his collar, pulling him closer. "How about now?"

Something dark flickered in his eyes. He reached up and slowly undid the top two buttons of my blouse, his fingers brushing my collarbone. His lips grazed my ear as he murmured, "Now you look like you belong here."

I rose on my tiptoes and caught his earlobe between my teeth. "You can coast on being pretty for a while. Make me happy. But there are plenty of pretty boys in this city, and if you bore me..." I let the threat hang. "I'll trade you in for a newer model."

If Gabriel could cheat and keep a mistress, why the hell couldn't I?

"Vic, let's go." Someone called out to him.

I wrapped my arms around his waist. "He's mine tonight. Paid for and everything. He's not going anywhere except wherever I say."