Reborn as the Villainess

"Hello, sir. This is Bellflower General Hospital. Your sister, Miss Eleanor Vanderbilt, passed away in our hospital three days ago. We kindly ask you to come sign the cremation consent forms as soon as possible. Otherwise, we will-The voice on the other end of the phone was abruptly cut off by a sharp click, silenced by a large, strong hand. In the opulent dining room, rich mahogany glistened under the chandelier's soft glow, casting ornate shadows that danced along the walls. Six men sat around an exquisite table, their polished silverware clinking like distant bells, the only sound slicing through the suffocating silence. a flicker of emotion crossed their faces, as if the news they had just heard was nothing more than a trivial update on the weather, and certainly not the death of their own sister.

"She's probably pulling one of her little stunts again. Trying to squeeze money out of us in some roundabour way," said Samuel Vanderbilt, Eleanor's fifth brother, with a casual flick of his chic gray hairContent © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

Not

a

His features were so strikingly handsome that he looked like he had stepped out of a fairy tale, with perfect cheekbones and a smile that could charm even the coldest of hearts. It was no surprise since he was the youngest-ever award-winning film star in all of Cendelch. "Exactly." Dylan Vanderbilt, Eleanor's fourth brother, chimed in, cutting his steak with a thoughtful air. "When our family went bankrupt and we were kicked out onto the streets, it was Gloria who worked herself to the bone abroad to keep us afloat"

He scoffed, a flicker of disdain dancing in his eyes, "Eleanor, though? She vanished like smoke. And now that we've got money again, she suddenly reappears with more tricks up her sleeve, hoping to get her hands on some cash." the youngest fellow of the National Academy of Sciences at Cendelch and a distinguished professor at the institute. was sharp as ever. His mention of Gloria referred to the family's adopted daughter, Gloria Vanderbilt.

Years ago, when Diana Vanderbilt lost her youngest daughter Eleanor, she fell into a deep depression, her vibrant spirit extinguished, leaving behind an empty shell that wandered through their grand estate like a ghost. To soothe his grieving wife, Zack Vanderbilt adopted Gloria from an orphanage, hoping to fill the aching void left by Eleanor's sudden. disappearance with the warmth of a new child.

Dylan,

When Dylan finished hed speaking, the the soft hum of a vibrating phone broke the silence that had enveloped the room.

The phone belonged to the eldest one of the Vanderbilt boys, Andrew Vanderbilt, a man dressed in a sleek black suit whose chiseled features made it clear he was no stranger to the limelight. If one looked closely, one would recognize him as a regular face gracing the covers of finance magazines, a man whose mere presence commanded attention.

Andrew was a legend i in the business world, having revived a failing company and pushed it into the top five global enterprises in less than two years.

He frowned slightly, a flicker of annoyance crossing his brow, but reluctantly picked up the call anyway, aware that some burdens could not be ignored forever.

On the other end of the line was the same female voice. "Hello, sir. This is Bellflower General flospital. We tried reaching Miss Vanderbilt's fifth brother, Samuel, but he hung up on us. We have noticed from Miss Vanderbilt's phone records that you're her eldest brother. "Would you be able to come by the hospital to claim her body of sign the cremation consent? She's been here for quite some time now, and we really need someone to handle this matter. We appreciate your understanding.'

The hospital staffer on the other end was polite but clearly walking on eggshells. After all, this was the first time in her over a decade of service that she'd dealt with a family so indifferent.

"Uh-huh, Lunderstand" Andrew's deep voice came through. The hospital staffer was left momentarily stunned by his calm sesponse, the weight of his indifference hung in the air like a heavy fog. Before she could say another word, the line went

Chap dead.

1

+

As Andrew hung up, Patrick Vanderbilt, Eleanor's third brother, couldn't stay quiet any longer. "Hold on, Andrew. You're really going? His tone carried a mix of disbelief and exasperation. Andrew dabbed his fingers clean with a napkin, rising smoothly from his seat, his movements precise and deliberate. "Yes. I'll go check it out"

Patrick scoffed, his eyes rolling. He knew Andrew well-once Andrew made up his mind, there was no swaying him. Reluctantly, Patrick stood as well. "Fine, I'm coming with you.

In his head. Patrick grumbled, Andrew may be ruthless in business, but he's got a soft spot when it comes to his siblings. He'll fall for Eleanor's sob story for sure if I don't keep an eye on him. I'm not letting that scheming witch take advantage of us again Seeing the two of them ready to leave, the remaining four brothers exchanged glances. One by one, they dropped their forks onto the table with a decisive clatter. "Alright, we'll go too. Let's see what kind of trick Eleanor's cooked up this time to even drag a hospital into her little little charade." The sterile smell of disinfectant clung to the air, thick and pungent, wrapping around them like a suffocating shroud. Every breath felt heavy and labored, as if the hospital's sanitized attempt to mask the stench of death was in vain.

The nurse, seeing that these men were Eleanor's kin, hurriedly ushered them towards the morgue, clearly nervous. She hurried her steps, glancing back nervously, as if fearing that if she didn't propel them forward, they might walk out dismissing this tragic affair as though it didn't concern them at all.

As they approached the morgue, a chilling atmosphere enveloped them. No amount of bleach or industrial-grade chemicals could completely eradicate the lingering, nauseating whiff of decay that clung to the room like a stubborn ghost. It snaked its way into their senses, curling around their throats and forcing all six men to wrinkle their noses in disgust, a shared, instinctive reaction to the stark reminder of mortality that hung in the air.

The nurse led the them to a room where three metal beds stood in row, stark and unwelcoming. Only one was occupied, Covered in a stark white sheet that barely hinted at the frail figure beneath it. She gestured toward the bed, her tone brisk but not heartless, "Gentlemen, this is Miss Vanderbilt's body. Would you prefer to take her with you for personal arrangements, or would you like the hospital to proceed with cremation? If you prefer the latter option, there's a seventy-dollar fee and some paperwork to sign.

Felix Vanderbilt, the youngest of the six brothers, recoiled slightly at the sight of the sheet-draped corpse. His voice trembled as he muttered, "She... She's really dead?" Patrick snorted derisively and rolled up his sleeves with a confident flair as he said, "Come on, Felix. You don't need to be a genius to figure it out. We'll know once we take a look. His words dripped with a mix of bravado and impatience, reflecting his frustration with the drawn-out uncertainty.

Patrick wasn't just any doctor-he was a prodigy, a man who had made headlines for finding treatments for cancers others thought untouchable. For him, determining if someone was dead or alive was child's play

With a swift motion, Patrick yanked back the sheet, the fabric falling away like a curtain unveiling a grim scene.

The sight that greeted them silenced any lingering doubts. Eleanor's face, gaunt and ashen, stared blankly back at them. Her skin was stretched tightly over her bones, her frame disturbingly frail, barely more than skin and bones. She looked like she'd been drained of life long before death had claimed her.

It was unmistakably Eleanor. 11:24 Wed, Oct 30 Chapter 1

65

For a moment, the room felt like it was frozen in time. Even Patrick, who had seen countless bodies, hesitated. The shock rippled through the room, holding them captive as they grappled with the harsh reality before them in silence. The truth finally sank in. This time, Eleanor wasn't playing one of her elaborate games as they had expected. She was truly gone.

The nurse, watching their stunned silence, grew uneasy. She cleared her throat, her voice urgent, "Gentlemen, how would you like to proceed?"

Her words jolted them back to reality, the gravity of the situation crashing down upon them like a tidal wave, forcing them to confront the unspeakable loss of their sister. Andrew spoke first, his voice firm but with a hint of finality. "Well handle it ourselves. No need for the hospital to cremate

ner. her."

The nurse visibly relaxed, grateful that they had made a decision. "Understood. But please, make arrangements quickly. She's been here for three days already.

As she spoke, a thought crossed her mind. "Oh, and by the way, Miss Vanderbilt's belongings are still in room 541. Please collect them on your way out," she added. When they arrived at room 541, the atmosphere felt almost surreal. The hospital room was quiet, save for the soft breathing of an elderly woman who lay in the adjacent bed. Her wrinkled face lit up the moment she saw them, her eyes twinkling with familiarity. "Oh my, you must be Ellie's six brothers, right? I've seen you on TV-handsome heartthrobs, just like she said." Dylan, caught off guard, blinked. "You... know us?"

The old woman chuckled, nodding enthusiastically. "Of course I do. Ellie talked about you boys all the time when she was still alive. She was so proud of you all, always talking about how awesome you are, saying you were her brothers. You should've seen her face light up whenever she mentioned you" The six men stood in stunned silence, her words echoing in their minds. Eleanor had spoken about them, and not with the bitterness they had always assumed. She had even felt proud of them.

The woman's expression softened as she continued, "Poor Ellie, though. Such a sweet girl, but life wasn't kind to her. So many health problems at such a young age, poor thing."

She suddenly seemed to remember something, reaching into the drawer beside her bed and pulling out a small, battered tin box. It was old, rusted, the kind that once held cookies but now bore the wear of time.

"Oh, before I forget-Ellie gave me this. She said her time was running out and asked me to wire some money for her. But I'm too old to figure out these things, so I was waiting for my grandson to help. Now that you're here, you can take care of it." she said

Andrew took the box from the woman. It felt oddly light for something so seemingly important, but that only added to the intrigue. The tin was chipped and faded, the bright colors from its former life as a cookie box long gone. It was like a relic from a past forgotten, much like Eleanor herself.