Erased and Reborn: Rise of The Billionaire's Wife

Chapter 4

That evening, Laura retreated into her room and began packing everything she owned.

Even if she wanted to stay, Jake’s trust in her had been completely shattered after their son’s death. Remaining in that house would only drain what little life and hope she had left. Staying meant being slowly erased.

With broken sobs tearing from her chest, she rubbed a trembling hand over her stomach, clinging to the only fragile hope still alive within her. Drawing in a shaky breath, she hurriedly stuffed her belongings into two worn luggage boxes—clothes, shoes, fragments of a life that no longer belonged to her.

Her heart quaked at the reality pressing in.

She had nowhere else to go.

The money left in her account could barely sustain her for a month… and that was only if she sold a few pieces of her jewelry and some of the expensive clothes she once wore as Jake’s wife. Claire had made sure of it. At her insistence, Jake had stripped Laura of her savings without hesitation.

She was no longer family.

Yet no matter how much Claire tried—no matter how she tore up the test results in a fit of rage, she couldn’t destroy the one living proof Laura carried within her.

Just as Laura dragged her suitcases toward the door, ready to leave without looking back, a voice called softly from behind her.

“Madam…”

Laura froze. She turned to see the elderly maid who had served the family faithfully for years… the same woman who had once cared for her like a daughter before Claire arrived and everything was taken away.

“Well… they don’t need me anymore,” Laura whispered bitterly. “I suppose bringing back old workers suits Jake now.”

Tears welled in the maid’s eyes. She stepped forward and pressed a single white envelope into Laura’s hand.

“I’m truly sorry for everything that has happened,” she said gently. “But please… take this letter from me.”

Laura accepted it, with a shaking fingers. She sniffed back her tears, refusing to read it, not now. She didn’t trust herself to stand still any longer.

Without another word, she walked out of the room.

In the living room, Jake sat cross-legged, staring at the phone tightly gripped in his hand. He didn’t look up, not even once.

For a brief moment, Laura stopped and stared at him… like a silent, unspoken memory standing at the edge of a life they once shared. As though if she stayed long enough, he might finally feel the weight of her pain.

But he didn’t.

Laura straightened her back one final time and walked out of the house.

Minutes later, the sky opened up.

As if even the heavens couldn’t decide whether to mourn for her or mock her suffering, rain began to pour down relentlessly. Heavy, cold drops soaked through her clothes, clung to her skin, and blurred her vision. The same day she lost her son… the same day Claire framed her, twisted the truth, and convinced Jake that she was the monster.

Cars sped past without slowing down or even glancing at her—as if she didn’t exist at all.She stood alone by the roadside, drenched and broken, clutching her luggage while the rain swallowed her sobs.

Suddenly a black car pulled up in front of her. Numb and shattered, she barely noticed the driver or registered the voice calling out to her. Acting purely on instinct, Laura tossed her suitcases into the trunk, opened the door, and slid into the backseat without hesitation.

The door closed behind her. And just like that, the life she knew was gone.

Laura was too exhausted to think.

She wiped her wet lashes with the back of her hand and glanced at the rear-view mirror. Her voice came out hoarse, barely more than breath.

“…Thank you.”

No one replied.

The car cut smoothly through the rain, the city lights smearing across the tinted glass like bleeding stars. After nearly twenty minutes, a modest hotel came into view a few meters ahead… its sign glowing faintly through the downpour.

"Please," Laura whispered, her gaze fixed on the window as memories flooded her mind. Her son's face. The hospital room. Jake's chilling silence.

“Drop me here.”

But the car kept moving.

She gripped the seatbelt tighter. The hotel gate was just a few feet ahead now.

"Here... please. Stop."

Still nothing.

Her dazed expression sharpened as panic crept in like ice down her spine.

"Hey... stop the car. This is where I need to get out."

Suddenly, the vehicle surged forward before coming to a jarring halt, tires screeching as it veered away from the hotel road.

Laura's breath caught in her throat.

She quickly glanced at the mirror.

The driver's eyes met hers, and her heart raced. They weren’t ordinary; they were too alert, too sharp—like those of a predator waiting for its moment to strike.

Her instincts screamed at her.

Turning sharply to her side, she saw him.

A man dressed entirely in black sat in the corner of the backseat, half swallowed by shadow. His hood was pulled low, with a dark mask obscuring his face. His fingers moved lazily, almost playfully, as a small blade danced between them… rolling, flipping, gliding over his knuckles until it finally settled against his thumb.

The sight sent chills through her veins.

Her heart pounded violently against her ribs.

She unbuckled her seatbelt and lunged for the door.

Locked.

Desperately, she clawed at the handle and pounded on the window. The glass was sealed, tinted and soundproof. Even if she screamed, no one outside would hear or see her.

"Please… please!" she cried out, collapsing against the door. "I don't have anything left. Just take everything! I beg you… let me go.”

Her words dissolved into sobs as she pressed herself into the corner, shaking uncontrollably.

No response.

She screamed until her throat burned and her voice faded to silence. Cars zipped past outside—lights flashing and engines roaring… never slowing down. It was as if she didn’t exist.

Terror shot through her mind.

A gang...? Is this how I’m going to die? What did I do?

They dragged her away from the road to a dark corner near the highway, where traffic rushed by just a few meters away.

They pulled her toward the shadows, the headlights blinding and indifferent as cars sped past.

Now, three men stood around her. All dressed in black. Two had scarves covering their faces, while only the driver remained exposed.

Laura’s knees buckled, and she collapsed to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.

“I’m sorry… please,” she pleaded, lowering her head. “Whatever I’ve done… please forgive me. Take everything. Spare me.”

Without warning, a fist struck her face.

The impact reverberated through her skull. She spat blood onto the pavement, her vision blurred and the world spun chaotically.

“Stand her up,” the driver commanded.

The two men yanked her to her feet, gripping her arms tightly. The driver cracked his knuckles and stepped closer.

Laura gasped as terror forced words from her chest before she could hold them back.

“I’m pregnant!.”

For a brief moment, just a breath… something shifted. Laura saw a flicker of hesitation in their eyes… a hint of concern for humanity that vanished almost instantly, replaced by cold irritation and disgust. As if what she said was merely an inconvenience.

The punch landed hard in her stomach.

Pain seared through her like fire.

A brutal kick followed… merciless and unforgiving.

Laura cried out once before silence enveloped her completely. Blood poured from her mouth as her eyes rolled back; ringing filled her ears. Her body slipped from their grip and crumpled awkwardly onto the ground.

Her gown soaked with blood as it pooled beneath her within moments of impact.

The standing driver pulled out his phone from his pocket, irritation etched on his face mingled with something dangerously close to guilt.

“Yes?” a sharp female voice answered. “Why are you calling? Have you done what I asked?”