Reborn: The Tyrant's Obsession

But if Adrian had to be honest, she was haunting his thoughts for the past two weeks which was strange. He didn’t know if he found her ridiculous or if he wanted to see her again.

It was difficult to figure out.

"Fine!" Adrian groaned, throwing his hands up. "Since you’re so insistent on their ’motherly’ needs and I refuse to part with my property, I have a solution that works for both of us. A compromise."

Ella paused, suspicious, "What kind of compromise?"

Adrian tilted his head, a flash of possessive tyrant glinting in his eyes, though he didn’t even realize it, "If the pets won’t leave you, and I won’t leave the pets... then you stay here. In the mansion. You can ’co-parent’ these ungrateful animals until I decide I’m tired of this setup."

...

In the darkness, the air felt heavy. It smelled of iron, rot, and stagnant dampness.

Adrian found himself standing in a corridor that shouldn’t exist in the Eve Mansion.

He looked down at his hands. They were trembling, though he didn’t feel cold.

He moved forward, his footsteps echoing against grime-streaked stone. Before him stood a row of iron bars. A prison.

His nose wrinkled in disgust as he spotted the bloated carcasses of dead rats scattered across the floor.

Then, he saw her.

In the corner of a cell, a woman sat in the shadows. Her silhouette was unfamiliar, she looked... bloated? Fat?

He tried to call out, but his throat felt like it was filled with glass.

The sound of rhythmic, heavy footsteps approached.

Adrian ducked into the shadows, watching as two figures appeared.

"She is dead," a voice whispered.

Adrian’s eyes narrowed when he heard the familiar voice, ’Ji Yan?’

Then, a second man stepped into the sliver of moonlight. He was tall, his aura so suffocatingly dark that the very walls seemed to shrink away from him.

"Whether she is dead or alive, she is mine."

Adrian’s racing thoughts halted because he recognized the second voice too. It was his own but it sounded different.

It was like the voice of a monster who had crawled out of hell and brought the flames with him.

Adrian watched as the man’s shadow reached down, gathering the limp, lifeless form of the woman into his arms. There was a sickening sense of devotion in the way the man held her, a terrifyingly distorted version of love.

As they turned to leave, Adrian couldn’t stop himself from chasing them. He needed to see their faces.

He followed them out of the darkness and into a sudden, blinding white light.

The roar of an engine sounded accompanied with the deafening screech of tires.

’BWARRR!’

The headlights of vehicles swallowed the world.

...

Adrian bolted upright on the king-sized bed. His forehead was translucent with cold sweat, and his heart hammered against his ribs.

"What a mess!" he rasped, massaging his forehead with shaking fingers.

But the lingering chill didn’t leave him even after a while.

Adrian threw on a robe and walked out of the room, heading downstairs.

In the living room, the lights were dimmed to a soft amber. Ella was there, curled up on the sofa with a notebook balanced on her knee, the puppy and kitten snoring at her feet.

She looked up, her doe eyes reflecting the soft glow of the lamp. Their eyes met for a moment and Adrian’s heart skipped a beat unconsciously.

Bertha appeared from the shadows of the hallway almost instantly, "Second Young Master? You’re awake. Do you need something?"

Adrian smoothed his hair back, "This Young Master is hungry. Have the kitchen prepare Homard à la Thermidor with a side of saffron-infused white truffle risotto."

’Thud’

The head chef who was just passing by slipped and landed on his ass.

All the people present in the living room: "_"

Bertha’s eyes widened but she was the quickest to regain her composure. She quickly performed a mental inventory of the pantry, ’’I will have the head chef and his assistants be on it right away."

"I’ll be in the dining room," Adrian said dismissively, waving a hand.

When Bertha left, Adrian finally turned to Ella, "I know it’s difficult but can you stop staring at this young master’s handsome face?" He calmly descended the stairs and sat on the adjacent throne chair.

Ella blinked, a bit speechless at his narcissist remark.

After a while, she sighed and said softly, "Don’t you think that’s a bit... much? It’s two in the morning. Even for you, a midnight meal shouldn’t require a five-man symphony in the kitchen."

Adrian paused, his hand on the back of a chair. He looked at her, his brows twitching. "What?"

"It’s fancy and, frankly outrageous," Ella said, blinking slowly, "Your stomach won’t even know what it’s eating at this hour. I can make you some noodles," You used to love having it for your midnight meals before.

Of course, Ella left the last part unsaid.

Adrian let out a scoff, his lips curling into a classic look of disdain.

"You think it’s too much?" He scanned her simple navy dress and the notebook she held, "Let alone being my wife for real, you don’t even have the mindset to pretend to be one.’’

He leaned back on the throne chair,"What you call luxury is just a basic for this young master. You want me to have... noodles? Dream on."

Ella: "_"

She was suddenly not sure if Adrian had just lost his memories or he had been completely replaced by some impostor of his.

While the kitchen gathered to start the work, Adrian leaned back on his thrown chair, his gaze drifting toward the sofa.

Ella had already tuned him out, her head bowed over the notebook, pen moving with a rhythmic motion.

"I see you actually do something with your time other than scamming people into believing you’re their legal spouse," Adrian noted sarcastically, his voice echoing in the quiet hall, "What is that? A manifesto on how to gaslight billionaires?"