He Was Reborn to Claim Me, But I’m Already Married Chapter 01

He Was Reborn to Claim Me, But I’m Already Married Chapter 01

Until the moment he died, Adrian Hawthorne was still demanding to know where my sister was.

In a rare show of kindness, I let him lean closer.

“She’s still alive,” I whispered. “She’s…”

A satisfied little laugh escaped me, and then I took my last breath.

My consciousness drifted in the air above my body as I watched him fly into a rage.

“Claire Bennett, you’re something else,” he seethed. “Playing games with me even on your deathbed.”

I watched him bury me on the outskirts of Boston. I watched him spend more than a decade searching for my sister, day after relentless day.

Just before he died, he came to my grave one last time to taunt me.

“You crashed into my life, stole the place that should have belonged to your sister, and got her killed in that fire.

“And you still wouldn’t tell me where she was buried…

“If there’s a next life, stay the hell away from me.”

But when my life began again, and Adrian seized my wrist to threaten me, warning me not to marry him, all I felt was a strange sense of amusement.

Who would want to marry him now?

I had been reborn a full year before he was.

I was already married.

…

The peach blossoms were in full bloom, and the Hawthorne family’s spring reception at their Brookline estate was humming with life.

One look was all it took for me to know Adrian had been reborn, too.

He was still hissing his warning at me.

“Later, at the reception, my mother is going to select my future wife. Don’t you dare switch your sister’s painting with yours again.”

With that, he turned and strode away, the hem of his trench coat stirring the fallen petals at his feet.

Behind me, Mia looked baffled.

“You’re already married. Why is Mr. Hawthorne talking to you like that?”

I rubbed my aching wrist, my eyes following Adrian’s retreating back. I had asked myself the same question. Why?

After a long time, I finally understood.

It was because Adrian had never truly seen me.

His gaze always slid right past me to settle on my sister, Evelyn.

He noticed every little thing about her. He could spend half the day praising a new shade of her lipstick.

But when it came to me, he barely looked. He’d just toss out some dismissive remark.

Evelyn had once tried to ease the tension between us, pushing me—carefully dressed and made up—in front of him, telling him to take a good look.

He had simply turned and walked away.

All he’d left behind was an impatient comment.

“What’s different? It’s not like I have nothing better to do than stare at her.”

So now, of course, he hadn’t bothered to notice the wedding ring on my left hand.

A petal drifted down in front of me. Adrian’s words still echoed in my ears, and only then did I remember.

In my previous life, it was also at this spring art reception, hosted by the Hawthorne Foundation. On the surface, it was an invitation for the young ladies of Boston’s elite to admire flowers and paint. In reality, Margaret Hawthorne was quietly selecting a wife for her son.

The girls drifting around us—some clearly tipped off by their families—were all dressed with studied elegance, competing in silence.

In my previous life, it was at this very reception that I begged Evelyn to switch paintings with me. In the end, I took first place.

His face a perfect mask, Adrian had pressed the white rose into my hand.

Margaret had been overjoyed, publicly declaring that the Hawthornes and Bennetts could begin discussing a marriage alliance.

I had thought that maybe, just maybe, he liked me a little, too. That he was just young and proud, hiding his feelings behind a wall of indifference.

But I can no longer remember the look on his face. Considering how much he came to hate me, he must have been furious.

After all, Evelyn had always been the one he wanted to marry.

Otherwise, he never would have been so consumed with regret after learning the truth about the paintings, nor would his coldness toward me have turned to ice.

At the thought, I changed direction.

I went back to the reception.

I was already married, so this event had nothing to do with me. But now that I remembered… I wasn’t about to let Adrian get his way this time.