He Chose His Mistress, I Chose the Don

Eleanor POV: I was reborn at the exact moment the Don was attacked on his private island. At 8 months pregnant, I threw myself in front of Don Hale. Mercenaries had set the place on fire and tried to assassinate Don Hale amid the chaos. Gunshots rang out everywhere. My husband, Marcus Mercer, was in charge of security for the celebration gala, but he was currently out at sea with his first love, Rebecca Sloan. In my previous life, I called Marcus for help. He rushed back in time to save Don Hale, earned the Don's trust, and rose rapidly to become his right-hand man, with enough power to make people think twice before crossing him. Rebecca, however, accidentally fell overboard and died that same night. Marcus showed no reaction at first. Once we left the island, though, he built a sewage pit in the basement of our villa, chained me inside with a heavy iron chain, and tortured me day and night. "If you hadn't made that call, I wouldn't have left Rebecca. She wouldn't have died. You should experience the despair she felt at the end. You deserve every second of it." I died as my wounds festered. He even cut my unborn baby out of me, but my child didn't survive either. Then I opened my eyes and found myself back on that very day. My phone lay at my feet. I didn't bend down to pick it up. Instead, I stepped in front of Don Hale. I wanted to see just how far Marcus could rise this time without me stepping in to save his career again. "Put out the fire! Don Hale is still inside!" Shouts erupted all around me. Scorching flames licked at my body, and hot sparks stung my arm. Pain stabbed through me, and I shuddered. I stared at the roaring fire before me, my eyes widening in disbelief. I had actually been reborn. I had come back to the moment that changed my entire life. The fire grew fiercer. Through the smoke and waves of heat, I spotted my phone in the corner. I didn't risk going for it. Instead, I grabbed a nearby chair and, using all my strength, smashed the door open. I charged into the smoke and threw myself over the man in the wheelchair to shield him. Don Hale stared at me in shock. The tension in his body eased slightly. A faint smile touched my lips. I knew I had made the right choice this time. My husband was the head of security for Don Hale's private island. Every time Don Hale came to the island, Marcus oversaw all the advance preparations and was responsible for keeping him safe. Yet today, while Don Hale was hosting a grand celebration gala, Marcus had taken Rebecca out to sea to watch a spectacular meteor shower over the water. In my previous life, I had been terrified that Don Hale would hold Marcus responsible for abandoning his post. I fought through the flames to retrieve my phone, even though 40 percent of my skin was already burned, and called him. Marcus rushed back, organized the rescue in time, and saved Don Hale. In return, Don Hale brought him onto his personal staff, giving Marcus power and status he could never have attained on his own. But Rebecca died in an accident at sea that night. Marcus blamed me for everything. After we left the private island, he built a sewage pit in the basement of our villa. He locked me inside with a heavy iron chain as thick as a man's arm, and neither my baby nor I made it out alive. I had been lucky enough to get a second life. I would never give Marcus another chance to hurt me. Saving Don Hale was my first step. Only he had enough power to keep me safe, and only with his backing could I get what I wanted. I bent over Don Hale, shielding him with my body as the flames scorched my skin. I could faintly smell burning flesh. My fingers clenched around the wheelchair handles, and although my body trembled, I didn't move an inch. The gunfire was getting closer. Every muscle in my body went rigid with fear, but I couldn't back down. Because Don Hale had limited mobility, bodyguards were normally stationed close by. If I could hold out until they reached us, I would get what I wanted. Perhaps he understood what I was trying to do. Don Hale didn't struggle or move. He simply let me shield him, his eyes becoming harder to read by the second. Then I heard a faint c***k overhead and looked up. An ornate Venus de Milo statue was starting to topple. I grabbed the wheelchair and tried to shove it out of the way, but there wasn't enough time. At the last second, I twisted around and covered Don Hale with my body. Agony exploded across my back. My strength gave out, and a dull ache spread through my abdomen. All I could do was gamble. I had to bet that the statue hadn't hit anything vital and that help would arrive quickly. I won that gamble. As my consciousness started to slip, the gunfire faded, replaced by the pounding of hurried footsteps. "Don Hale, all the invading mercenaries have been eliminated. The area is secure." It was over. I had saved Don Hale. The last of the tension holding me upright finally gave way, and darkness swallowed me. Just before I lost consciousness, I heard Don Hale's low, hoarse voice. "Take her with us. Find out who she is." "Yes, sir." "Wait. Isn't she Marcus Mercer's wife? What is she doing here?"