Reborn Heiress Is Remarrying
Chapter 101: The Ghosts We Bury

Chapter 101: The Ghosts We Bury

Chapter 103: The Ghosts We Bury

The line had gone dead, but the words hung in the air like an executioner’s blade.

"Dead things don’t always stay buried."

Diane’s grip on the phone was so tight her knuckles ached.

Riot was the first to speak. "Tell me that was a prank call."

Gabriel didn’t look away from Diane... "It wasn’t."

Diane swallowed past the lump in her throat. "Someone’s watching us."

Gabriel exhaled slowly, his mind already started working on something. "Not just watching. Testing."

Riot leaned against the counter, arms crossed, his usual smirk changed immediately with something grimmer.

"So, let’s break this down. Rachel’s dead. Adrian is in custody. The media is circling like vultures. Who else is left to screw with us?"

Diane shook her head. "It doesn’t have to be someone new. It could be someone we overlooked. Someone we thought was done with us."

Gabriel’s tone sharpened. "Then we retrace everything. Start from the beginning."

Diane inhaled deeply, rubbing her temples.

"Rachel was desperate, but she wasn’t stupid. If she planned something beyond her death, we need to find it before it finds us."

Riot groaned. "Great. More dead people leaving us problems."

Gabriel’s phone beeped. He glanced down, then looked back at Diane. "We need to go."

Diane frowned. "Go where?"

Gabriel’s voice was calm, but his eyes burned. "To Rachel’s townhouse. Before the police pick it apart."

Rachel’s Townhouse – 45 Minutes Later

By the time they arrived, the crime scene tape was already in place, but Gabriel’s influence ensured they had access.

Diane stepped inside, her boots echoing against the marble floors.

It still smelled like expensive perfume and something colder—something stale, as if the house itself knew its owner wasn’t coming back.

Gabriel followed closely, his presence solid, grounding. Riot was on alert, scanning every corner like a watchdog.

Diane moved toward the living room, her stomach twisting.

The last time she had been here, Rachel had been alive—angry, desperate, but alive.

She didn’t know how to feel now.

Gabriel’s voice cut through her thoughts. "We’re not looking for obvious."

Diane nodded, snapping back to reality. "Rachel was too careful. If she planned something, she hid it well."

They moved quickly, searching through drawers, behind bookshelves, inside cabinets. But Rachel was meticulous—everything was curated, staged.

Then—

"Diane."

Gabriel’s voice made her turn immediately.

He stood near the fireplace, his fingers brushed over the edge of a framed photograph. But it wasn’t the picture that caught his attention.

It was the safe behind it.

Diane rolled her eyes. "Of course."

Gabriel pulled the picture down, revealing a keypad. Riot whistled lowly. "Classic."

Diane stepped forward, brushing her fingers over the numbers.

"She was narcissistic enough to use something obvious. Try her birthday."

Gabriel punched in the numbers.

Nothing.

Riot shrugged. "Arthur’s birthday?"

Gabriel tried again.

Still nothing.

Diane frowned, thinking. Then, her lips parted slightly. "Leon’s birthday."

Gabriel hesitated for half a second before typing it in.

Click.

The safe door swung open.

Inside was a single folder.

So...Thick, slightly worn, stuffed with papers that looked far too important to be hidden away like this.

Diane pulled it out carefully, flipping it open. The first thing she saw made her blood run cold.

Rachel’s handwriting.

"Contingency Plan."

Gabriel leaned over her shoulder, scanning the contents. Riot peered in, muttering, "I hate when dead people leave notes."

Diane’s eyes moved quickly over the documents. Bank statements. Letters. A list of names.

Gabriel’s voice was quiet but very focused. "These aren’t random people."

Diane nodded, her fingers tightening on the paper. "They’re donors. Political figures. People with influence."

Riot’s brows lifted. "What, like blackmail material?"

Gabriel’s jaw tightened. "More than that. This is leverage."

Diane turned another page and stopped.

There it was.

Rachel’s signature.

And beneath it—another name.

Adrian Ravenhood.

Diane’s pulse spiked.

Gabriel’s expression darkened. "She was working with him longer than we thought."

Riot let out a short and shaky breath. "So, what—he wasn’t just her attack dog? He was a partner?"

Diane scanned further. "This... this isn’t just about money. This is revenge."

Gabriel took the file from her hands, flipping to the last page. His eyes moved over the text, his fingers gripping the edges tightly.

Then he muttered a curse under his breath.

Diane’s stomach twisted. "What?"

Gabriel turned the page toward her.

It was a final note. Scrawled hastily in Rachel’s handwriting.

"If anything happens to me, he’ll know what to do."

The air in the room changed.

Riot shifted uncomfortably. "Okay. That’s not unsettling at all."

Diane stared at the note, something icy sliding down her spine. "She knew she might die."

Gabriel’s voice was grim. "And she made sure Adrian had a backup plan."

Silence stretched between them.

Then Diane felt some heaviness at the back of her head. "We need to go."

Gabriel nodded, tucking the folder under his arm. "This isn’t staying here."

Riot clapped his hands together. "Great. Let’s get out of this haunted house before the walls start whispering."

Diane shot him a look, but she couldn’t shake the unease settling in her bones.

Rachel was gone.

But her plan wasn’t.

And somewhere out there—Adrian still had allies.

Later that night

Diane sat at the kitchen table, the documents spread out before her. The house was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of pages as she flipped through them.

Arthur was asleep upstairs. Riot had left an hour ago, after making sure the perimeter was secure.

And Gabriel—

She glanced up as he walked in, rolling his shoulders as if trying to shake off everything.

He stopped when he saw her still working. "You should sleep."

Diane shook her head. "Not yet."

Gabriel sighed, moving to sit across from her. He picked up one of the papers, scanning it. "This isn’t going to solve itself overnight."

"I know."

A beat of silence. Then—

Gabriel reached across the table, his fingers brushed against hers.

Diane stilled.

His touch was warm, grounding. But there was something else in his eyes—something that wasn’t just frustration or exhaustion.

Something deeper.

"You’re carrying too much," he said quietly.

Diane’s throat tightened. "So are you."

Gabriel exhaled slowly, but he didn’t move his hand away. "We’ll fix this."

Diane met his gaze. "And if we can’t?"

Gabriel’s lips quirked into something that wasn’t quite a smile. "Then we make sure they regret ever trying."

Diane let out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding it for so long.

She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring.

The energy between them was thicker, making it feel more charged with something strong, something neither of them had the nerve to fight anymore.

Diane’s fingers were still resting under Gabriel’s, his touch was gentle, strong but not demanding.

It was a strange contradiction—possessive and gentle, powerful but not forceful.

He always did this. Crept in just enough to make her question whether she wanted to pull away.

Tonight, she didn’t.

She watched as his gaze fall down to her lips for half a second before returning to her eyes, darker and more tough...

"You keep looking at me like that," she murmured, "and I might start thinking you actually care."

Gabriel’s smirk was slow, kind. "That would be a dangerous assumption."

Diane arched a brow. "Would it?"

He didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he dragged his thumb lightly over her knuckles, tracing the lines of her skin like he was memorising the feeling.

Diane swallowed hard, her pulse betraying her.

"Everything about you is dangerous," Gabriel murmured. "Always has been."

Diane tilted her head, pretending to consider his words. "I could say the same about you."

Gabriel chuckled softly, but there was no real humor in it. "You should’ve run when you had the chance."

Diane leaned in slightly, just enough that she could feel the heat of him, the tension coiling between them.

"Maybe I like playing with fire."

Gabriel exhaled slowly, his fingers tightened around hers.

His voice dropped lower, almost a whisper. "Then you should know by now, Diane..."

He leaned in, his lips just a breath away from hers.

"... I don’t burn alone."

Her breath hitched.

She knew this was reckless. That they were standing on a knife’s edge, one sharp step away from something that would make everything even more complicated.

But for once, she didn’t care.

Diane lifted her chin up, closing the space between them—just enough to brush her lips against his in the lightest, most dangerous of touches.

Gabriel inhaled harder, his control slipped for half a second.

Then his hand slid up her wrist, fingers traced her pulse before gripping the back of her neck, pulling her fully into him.

The kiss was slow, deep—calculated, like everything Gabriel did.

But beneath the control was something else. Something raw.

Something neither of them could afford to admit.

And yet, neither of them pulled away.

"I want you, Diane..."

She smiled, "again?"

Gabriel looked into her eyes, leaned closer and whispered against her ear.

"Always."