Rebirth: Love me Again-Chapter 356: The Fallout Continues

The Kims were one of the most respected families in the country—old money, untarnished reputation, and generations of carefully curated social power. They did not climb the ladder. They built it.

And they would not let some outsider—some nobody from a lower-class family—drag their name through the mud and then profit from it. Not under their roof. Not under their name.

It wasn’t just the scandal that shattered their resolve—it was the disgrace of it all. The public humiliation. A daughter they raised with pearls and private tutors, now the laughingstock of the nation.

A child they once paraded like a princess, now reduced to whispers and tabloid mockery.

Kylie had become a stain they could no longer scrub out. And so, they did the one thing the powerful always did when something broke beyond repair:

They discarded her.

Disowned. Stripped of her rights to the family fortune. Her name erased from the will. No trust fund. No fallback. No sympathy.

"She’s not our only daughter," her mother had said coldly to the board during the emergency family meeting. "We still have four more—each of them respectable, smart, and a source of pride. We will not risk the legacy of this family for one reckless mistake."

It was swift. Merciless. Clinical.

Kylie had begged, but it meant nothing. Her tears no longer had weight. Her apologies bounced off marble floors and stone hearts. To them, she was no longer a daughter. She was a scandal. An embarrassment. A liability.

They chose preservation over compassion.

She was left with nothing but her unborn child and a husband she didn’t even love, a poor man who wouldn’t be able to give her the lavish lifestyle she knew and wanted—one who didn’t even have the chance to explain himself before being dragged into a shotgun wedding.

And that was the tragedy: Jason, for all his arrogance, wasn’t prepared either. It all happened too fast. Too suddenly.

Kylie’s family was desperate to clean up the mess, to seal it with vows and silk gowns before the shame could grow even larger. And Jason, dazed and panicked, was swept along with it.

He had no time to form a defense. No chance to run.

And now, as Kylie sat in the grand home once gifted to her by her family—now cold, silent, and practically empty—she realized just how far she’d fallen.

All because of one night.

All because of one mistake.

All because she underestimated the girl she once mocked.

Iraya.

And as the walls closed in on her gilded cage of consequences, the echo of that girl’s name lingered like a curse.

Of course, Iraya had everything to do with the disownment.

It wasn’t enough for Kylie to suffer public shame. Iraya wanted her to lose everything—status, money, influence. All the things Kylie had weaponized to look down on others. It wasn’t revenge unless the fall was complete.

And Iraya had planned it well.

She knew Kylie’s parents wouldn’t give up their power so easily, but they would if the right incentive was placed in front of them.

So she gave them one.

Through quiet channels and precise meetings, Iraya reached out to the Lee conglomerate—her family’s long-standing business empire. With calm confidence, she proposed a lucrative business partnership, one that promised global expansion, technological innovation, and most importantly, long-term financial gain. ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom

The kind of deal that would make headlines in business circles and send stock prices soaring.

But there was a catch. One condition.

The Kims had to disown Kylie.

It was framed as a necessity—protecting the image of the future venture, ensuring the scandal didn’t stain their corporate reputation.

"We can’t afford to be associated with unresolved controversies," she had said smoothly, sitting across from Kylie’s father in a private boardroom. "Your daughter’s . . . situation is now public knowledge. Investors are skittish. If we go into this with her still attached to your name, it could jeopardize everything."

Mr. Kim had frowned, fingers steepled, but he listened.

He was a businessman first, a father second.

And the Lee family—Iraya’s family—had ties with the Fays and the Johnsons, two of the most powerful dynasties in the world. A partnership with the Lees meant a direct line to that kind of power.

It was the quickest and most advantageous solution.

Cold. Efficient. Permanent.

Within a week, the Kims released a private but formal statement. Kylie was no longer affiliated with the Kim name, nor entitled to any part of their holdings. Her access was revoked. Her name was erased from company documents and estate listings.

The deal with the Lees? Finalized within three days of the announcement.

Iraya played her cards flawlessly—business mogul by blood, tactician by vengeance. She didn’t need to lift a finger to destroy Kylie. She only had to offer the right people what they already wanted: more power, less shame.

And in the end, she got exactly what she wanted.

Kylie was left without her fortune, without her name, without the protection of her once-proud family.

All that remained . . . was a marriage she didn’t want, a child she couldn’t hide, and a life that no longer belonged to her.

Iraya watched the news reports with a glass of champagne in hand and a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

It was done.

Kylie and Jason got their "happily ever after" — just not the kind they imagined.

Their once-glamorous dreams were now confined to a run-down hut on the outskirts of town, the paint peeling from the walls and the roof groaning with every heavy rain. There were no more glittering galas, designer wardrobes, or five-star getaways. Instead, there were unpaid bills, leaky faucets, and creaky floors that echoed the silence between them.

Jason worked long shifts at a minimum-wage job, barely bringing in enough to cover their basic needs. He came home exhausted, worn down by the grind of ordinary life — a life far removed from the privileges he once clung to.

Kylie, once the center of every room she entered, now spent her days in motherhood—24/7, with no nanny, no spa days, no personal assistant to smooth things over.

The once-perfect nails were chipped, her designer bags long sold, her skincare shelf replaced by discount lotions. Every coin was counted.

Every errand carefully planned. Shopping had gone from indulgence to necessity, and even then, it was mostly secondhand.

She had dreamed of being adored, admired, envied.

Now she was just . . . tired.

The two of them, once so desperate to cling to an illusion of love and prestige, now lived as ordinary people—struggling, unseen, and uncelebrated.

Iraya, meanwhile, moved on. Not because she was done—but because revenge had done its job.

She could finally return to her country and live a peaceful life — or so she thought.

Unbeknownst to her, another storm was already brewing.

And at the center of it was none other than Lyander "The Devil" De Santis.

Her story wasn’t over. Not yet. The past she thought left behind had a way of catching up . . . especially when the Devil himself was the one chasing.

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