Reborn Heiress Is Remarrying
Chapter 91: One More Betrayal

Chapter 91: One More Betrayal

Chapter 91: One More Betrayal

"What?!"

The conference room was suffocatingly silent.

Leon’s evidence looked too heavy on the table.

Rachel sat frozen in her chair, her hands clenched into fists against the polished wood.

Her lawyers—Daniel Reaves and Marsha Lindon, trying to sit far away from her now, flipped through the damning documents once more.

"What did you just say?" Rachel gritted her teeth.

No one said anything...

Finally, Daniel let out a slow breath, set his pen down, and leaned back.

"We can’t represent you anymore, Rachel."

Rachel’s head snapped up, her blood started running cold. "Excuse me?"

Marsha adjusted her glasses, choosing her words carefully.

"We were unaware of the... extensive nature of Mr. Hoffman’s claims. The fraud, the affairs, the potential child endangerment charges..." She shook her head.

"This is not a case we can win. And frankly, we have reputations to protect."

Rachel’s breath came fast and shallow. "You’re dropping me?"

Daniel nodded without hesitation. "Effective immediately."

Rachel let out a sharp laugh, high and brittle.

"You’re cowards. That’s what you are."

Marsha’s jaw and muscles hardened.

"No, Rachel. We’re realists. You lied to us. You withheld crucial information that would’ve changed our approach to this case."

Rachel gritted her teeth. "That’s your job! To fix things! To make the truth work for me!"

Daniel gave her a measured look. "We’re lawyers, Rachel. Not magicians."

Rachel shot to her feet, slamming her hands on the table. "I hired you to fight for me!"

Daniel stood as well, gathering his papers into a neat stack.

"Then consider this our final act of legal advice—take what Leon is offering and walk away."

Rachel’s nails dug into her palms. "That bastard wants me to have nothing."

Marsha sighed.

"It’s better than being dragged through a public trial and losing even more. If this goes to court, Rachel, you won’t just lose Arthur. You’ll be humiliated. You’ll be ruined."

Rachel’s lips trembled, but she refused to show weakness. "I’ll find better lawyers."

Marsha gave her a pitying look. "Good luck with that."

With that, her now-former attorneys gathered their things, left their business cards on the table, and walked out, leaving Rachel alone with her rage.

Her hands shook as she reached into her bag, yanking out her phone.

She barely registered the burn of humiliation crawling up her throat as she scrolled through her contacts until she found Martin’s.

She pressed the call button and brought the phone to her ear, her pulse hammered.

It rang once. Twice.

Then—

"Rachel." His voice was flat, sounding way too unimpressed.

Rachel swallowed her hot like sun anger and softened her tone. "Martin, I need your help."

A pause. "Help with what?"

Rachel closed her eyes, inhaling deeply before launching into her plea.

"Leon is trying to destroy me. I need better lawyers—ones who can actually fight back. Ones who win."

Martin didn’t answer right away. When he did, his tone was full of boredom. "And?"

Rachel clenched her jaw. "And I need money."

A short laugh. "Of course you do."

Her fingers tightened around the phone.

"Martin, I don’t have time for your games. If you care about me at all, you’ll help me."

"I do care," Martin said smoothly. "That’s why I’m telling you to let this go."

Rachel blinked, her breath hitched. "What?"

"You lost, Rachel," Martin said bluntly. "Leon’s not an idiot. You should’ve known he’d have a plan."

"I can fight this," she hissed. "I just need the right people."

"You mean my people," Martin corrected. "The ones I pay for."

Rachel’s throat tightened. "I thought we were in this together."

Martin sighed. "Rachel, we were. When it benefited me. But you’re a liability now."

A cold wave of panic settled in her stomach. "Martin—"

"Do you know how much heat Leon’s lawyers are digging up?" he interrupted.

"They’re not just coming after you, Rachel. They’re looking into everything. And I have a lot to lose."

"But I never—"

"Don’t," Martin warned, his voice sharpened like a blade. "I’m not going down with you."

Her stomach lurched. "So that’s it? You’re abandoning me?"

"You should be used to it by now," he said coolly.

Rachel gritted her teeth. "I gave you everything."

Martin let out a lazy chuckle. "And you expected something in return? That’s cute."

Tears of frustration burned behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "I need money, Martin."

"Not my problem."

Her hand shook as she gripped the phone tighter. "You bastard."

Martin sighed as if the conversation was exhausting him.

"You were fun, Rachel. But let’s be honest—your time’s up. You’re toxic. And I don’t do charity cases."

Rachel’s breath came in sharp gasps. "I swear to God—"

"Relax," he cut her off. "You’re smart. You’ll figure something out. Maybe beg Leon. Cry for Diane. I’m sure someone will take pity on you."

Rachel’s world tilted on its axis. She had always prided herself on control—on knowing how to manipulate, how to win. But now?

She was spiraling.

"I made you," she whispered, her voice shaking with unrestrained fury. "You’d be nothing without me."

"Maybe," Martin admitted. "But at least I’m not the one left with nothing."

The call disconnected.

Rachel stared at the screen, her breath coming fast and uneven.

Her hands shook as a wave of pure, unfiltered rage consumed her.

She had lost her lawyers.

She had lost Martin.

And soon, she would lose Arthur.

Her vision blurred as she slammed her phone onto the table, the sharp crack of plastic breaking against wood doing nothing to satisfy the rage bubbling inside her.

She refused to let this be the end.

Leon wanted to erase her? Fine. He wanted to cut her off, to make sure she walked away with nothing?

’Over my dead body.’

She wasn’t finished yet. Not even close.

Rachel straightened, smoothing out her dress with trembling fingers.

She still had some power left. She just needed to use it wisely.

If the courts wouldn’t help her—if her lawyers had abandoned her—then she’d find another way.

There was always another way.

And if that meant burning everything down to the ground?

So be it.