u/lost_astraeous

I CAN’T BELIEVE THEY STILL HAVEN’T KISSED YET. FR WHY DO THEY KEEP GETTING INTERRUPTED 😭😭😭 MY HEART CAN’T TAKE THIS ANYMORE JUST KISS GDMNT

Chapter 1
Everyone knew Vivian Hale was taken by force.
She had a boyfriend. Dominic Cross paid over a hundred million dollars to make him disappear. When she still refused to come to him, he locked her inside his estate and took from her day and night until she didn't have the strength to get out of bed.
She hated him enough to press a knife to his throat. He just wiped the blood from his neck, barely interested, and smiled. "Go ahead. Keep trying. If you can't kill me, you'll end up loving me."
Everyone knew the Cross patriarch was unhinged. But for Vivian Hale alone, he would have handed over his life.
He stepped in front of a bullet for her. He got down on his knees to put her shoes on. He sang to her in front of a thousand people at a gala.
The glacier melted. Vivian finally let herself feel something.
Then came their third year of marriage, and a business associate brought a college girl home. Her name was Lily Sawyer. Clear-eyed. Uncomplicated. Exactly what Vivian had looked like when they first met.
One night was all it took. Dominic changed.
He brought her home and told Vivian, without looking up from his phone, "I have enough wealth to keep two women. Plenty of men have done worse."
Vivian felt the words like a bolt through her chest. Her blood went cold. "You said. You said this life, only me."
She couldn't accept it. She tore through the mansion until her hands bled. He didn't send Lily away.
Out of options, she went to Lily herself. She slid a check across the table, a number that should have ended everything.
Lily took it. Then turned around and cried her way back to Dominic.
That same day, Dominic had Vivian's parents bound and driven to an industrial warehouse on the edge of the city. He strung them up over a roaring industrial shredder, the blades going below.
He watched Vivian fall apart with cold eyes. "Nod. Let her stay. And I'll let them go."
Vivian stared at the man she had loved to the bone, her vision drowning in tears. "Dominic! Do you remember how you took me? You said you'd only ever want me. Only ever love me. Three years. Three years, and you just. Stop? Just like that? You lied to me. You lied to me and now it's done?"
Dominic's brow tightened slightly, as if her accusation was an inconvenience. His voice stayed flat. "When did I say I stopped loving you? We registered the marriage in Ireland. You know what that means. I can't dissolve it unilaterally. I still love you."
He paused. His gaze moved briefly to Lily, who was trembling in the corner.
"I've just also fallen in love with Lily."
He said it the way someone mentions the weather. "Nod. Agree to this arrangement. I'll release your parents immediately. We can go back to the way things were."
"The way things were?" Vivian laughed until tears ran down her face. "Dominic. A person only has one heart. How can you split it between two people?"
Dominic didn't answer. He raised his hand.
The man at the winch controls began to ready himself.
Then Dominic started counting. His voice was the cold flat sound of a death sentence. "Ten."
"Nine."
The rope holding Vivian's parents began to lower.
"No! No! Mom! Dad!" Vivian screamed and lunged. The bodyguards caught her and held her back.
"Eight."
"Seven."
The rope dropped another length. The grind of the shredder filled the air like it was already inside her skull.
"Dominic! I hate you! I hate you!" Vivian's voice cracked apart.
"Six."
"Five."
Her parents' screams mixed with the noise of the machine and ate through her eardrums.
"Four!"
"Three!!"
Her parents' feet were almost touching the spinning blades.
"Two!!!"
"I agree! I agree!" In the last second, Vivian broke completely. She screamed until her voice gave out. "Let her stay! I agree! Please let my parents go! Please!"
Dominic raised his hand. The rope stopped.
A trace of satisfaction crossed his face, almost cruel. "This is how it should have been from the start. Why make it this ugly? They're the most important people in your life. I didn't want to hurt them either."
He signaled his men. "Release them."
But then, as his men scrambled at the controls, the rope snapped.
"No!"
Vivian watched her parents drop straight down into the roaring machine.
The screaming stopped. The grinding stopped. Both at once.
Only the red, and the fragments that had scattered across the floor.
The world pressed down like silence.
Vivian stared. Her pupils went wide and loose. Sound, image, sensation, all of it left her.
Something hot and metallic surged up her throat.
Blood burst from her mouth and stained the floor at her feet.
She fell straight back. Darkness swallowed her whole.
Chapter 2
She opened her eyes.
The crystal chandelier overhead. Egyptian cotton sheets beneath her. This was their bedroom, hers and Dominic's.
She sat up hard. Heart slamming. She looked at her hands. Touched her face.
She wasn't dead.
She snatched the phone off the nightstand, hands shaking.
The date on the screen. She had gone back. She was alive, back in time, to the exact day Dominic brought Lily home.
The image of her parents falling into the shredder played on repeat behind her eyes. Pain and despair crashed over her all at once.
Dominic. Lily.
She would never love him again. Not one fraction of one inch.
If he wanted Lily, she'd give him everything he wanted. She just needed her parents safe.
She scrubbed the tears off her face and ran.
She nearly fell down the stairs on her way out. She made it home, half-blind, and found her mother in the kitchen holding a tray of fresh-baked cookies, laughing at something her father had just said.
Vivian's eyes flooded. She crossed the kitchen and pulled them both in, held on.
"Vivian? What's wrong? Bad dream?" Her mother rubbed her back.
Vivian held on for a long time before she could look up. When she did, her eyes were steadier than they had ever been. "Mom. Dad. I'm divorcing Dominic. When it's done, we're leaving. All of us. We're never coming back."
Her parents stared at each other.
"Vivian." Her father's brow creased. "What are you talking about? Dominic was extreme at the beginning, yes, but look at these past years. He stepped in front of a bullet for you. He got down on his knees and begged you to forgive him. He dropped a hundred billion in business to take you to Iceland and stand in the snow for a week just because you said once that you wanted to see the Northern Lights. You finally got to where you accepted him, married him. And now out of nowhere..."
Her mother joined in. "Did you have a fight? Every couple..."
"It's not a fight."
Vivian cut them off. The ache in her chest was too sharp for words.
She knew. She didn't understand it, how the man who had loved her that fiercely could flip that easily, could do what he did. But she couldn't tell them about the other life. She could only say it again and again, steady as she could: "Trust me. Once. I have a reason I can't explain. Please."
Her parents looked at her face, at the pain in it and the absolute certainty underneath. They sighed. And believed her.
She calmed them down, then went and handled two things immediately. First, she went to the city precinct and filed a legal death declaration for herself. Second, she applied for legal name changes for all three of them.
She knew Dominic. He would never sign divorce papers. The only way out of the marriage was to be legally dead. And the name changes would cut off any future trail he might follow.
The paperwork would take a few days. To avoid raising his suspicion, she had to go back to the gilded cage in the meantime.
She stepped into the mansion's front living room and found Dominic's arm around Lily's waist, murmuring something close to her ear.
He glanced up when he heard her come in. His tone was the casual indifference of someone giving instructions to household staff. "Vivian. Come here."
He kept Lily close, one arm around her, and said the exact words Vivian already knew by heart from her other life: "This is Lily. She'll be living here from now on. I love you both. My wealth is more than enough for two. I want you to coexist peacefully and stay with me forever."
In the first life, those words had shattered her. She would have screamed and destroyed the room.
This time, she looked at him calmly. The faintest edge of something crossed her mouth. "Fine. I agree."
Dominic's eyes flickered with clear surprise. He hadn't expected compliance. "You're not going to fight me on this?"
Vivian lowered her gaze. Her voice carried nothing. "What would be the point? You said yourself you can love two women and afford them both. As long as you still 'love' me."
She said the word love like it had a splinter in it.
Dominic seemed satisfied by her obedience. He reached over and ruffled her hair. "Good girl. Go set up a guest room for Lily."
Lily immediately softened her voice to something wispy and sweet. "Vivian, don't go to any trouble. I hope we can get along well."
Vivian nodded. She turned and went to make up the room, efficient and quiet, like a well-trained hostess.
At dinner, Dominic and Lily fed each other as if no one else was there. Vivian ate what was on her plate. It tasted like nothing.
That night, Dominic told her plainly: "Monday, Wednesday, Friday I'm with you. Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday I'm with Lily. Tonight is her night."
Vivian said, "Fine."
Chapter 3
The mansion was quiet that night. No screaming, no breaking glass. Just the dead stillness that meant she had nothing left to spend on tears.
She had run out in the other life, watching her parents die.
The next day, Dominic threw a gala to announce Lily's arrival. He all but declared to the whole city that he now had two wives.
The guests came in waves. So did the whispers.
Pity, contempt, schadenfreude. The looks landed on Vivian like needles. She barely felt them.
She just needed the paperwork to go through. Then she would disappear.
At the gala, Dominic announced he was signing over ten percent of his company's shares to Lily. Then he produced the Cross family heirloom, an antique diamond bracelet passed only to the matriarch of each generation. The one he had once clasped on Vivian's wrist and told her it represented everything he had and everything he felt.
Vivian watched the bracelet change hands.
She remembered the day he had put it on her. He had looked at her and said: "Vivian, I have everything. But the only thing I ever truly wanted was your love. Now that I have it, I feel like I have the world. Love me forever. All right?"
She had done that.
He hadn't.
A fine pain moved through her chest. She pushed it down and looked away.
Lily basked in the room's attention like a princess receiving tribute.
Then her gaze slid to Vivian, who had been silent all evening. Lily smiled sweetly. "Vivian, what did you get me for a gift?"
Vivian hadn't had time to think about it. "I'll make it up to you."
Lily wouldn't let it go. Her eyes traveled to the simple chain at Vivian's throat. "You don't have to wait. I love that necklace. Could you give it to me?"
Vivian's expression shifted. Her hand moved to the chain before she could stop it. "No."
It was the only thing her grandmother had left her.
Lily pouted. "Yesterday you said we'd be like sisters. You can't even give me a necklace? Don't you want me here, Vivian?"
Dominic appeared from across the room. He frowned. "What's going on?"
Lily's eyes immediately went glassy. She told him exactly what happened.
Dominic looked at Vivian. There was irritation in it. "You agreed yesterday to make this work. Already backing out?"
Then he reached out and yanked the necklace from Vivian's neck.
The chain cut into her skin as it broke. It left a red line.
He pressed the necklace into Lily's hand. "If you like it, take it."
Lily grabbed it with both hands, delighted. "Thank you! I'm going to go try it on!" She skipped up the stairs.
Vivian stood there, watching her grandmother's only belonging disappear into another woman's hands.
She counted to ten. Then she followed.
She just wanted to try to trade something else for it. Anything else.
She pushed open Lily's door. It was already ajar.
What she saw made her blood reverse.
Lily was crouching over a small dog, laughing, and looping the necklace around the dog's neck.
"What are you doing!" Vivian crossed the room in three steps. Her voice shook.
Lily startled, then smiled with her eyes. "Oh, you caught me. I thought the chain was too plain for me. Way better on a dog, right?"
Chapter 4
"Give it back." Vivian reached for it, barely holding herself together.
Lily dodged. She kept dodging, keeping it just out of reach.
Then Lily's foot slipped. She screamed. She fell backward through the open balcony door.
"Ah!"
The noise brought Dominic upstairs at a run. He was fast. He caught her just at the edge.
"Lily! What happened?" He held her, checking her over.
Vivian stepped onto the balcony. She started to speak.
Lily spoke first. She was already crying, pointing at Vivian. "Dominic. Don't blame Vivian. She was upset about the necklace, and she, she just accidentally pushed me a little..."
"I didn't push her." Vivian couldn't believe what she was hearing.
Dominic's eyes went cold. "I asked you to make this work. You agreed. Now this? It's just a necklace. I know it was your grandmother's. But it's an object. Lily wanted it. What's the problem? You really can't stand her being here?"
Vivian felt the shock of it like electricity through her chest.
He had known. He had known from the start it was her grandmother's. And he had ripped it off her throat anyway, for a woman he'd known for two days.
The wound ripped back open. She could barely breathe around it.
"I said. I didn't push her."
"Enough!" Dominic wasn't interested. "You did something wrong, and there are consequences. Go to the front entrance. Kneel. Shine the shoes of every guest who walks through. Until Lily tells me she's satisfied."
Vivian's head came up fast. "You can't humiliate me like this."
"You'd rather I ask your parents to go instead?"
The image of the other life detonated behind her eyes.
"No. Don't bring them into this. I'll go."
Her fingernails went into her palm.
For them. She could take anything.
She knelt at the entrance to the mansion in the glow of the outdoor lights, head down, and worked through every pair of shoes that passed. Guests looked at her with pity, contempt, curiosity. She felt none of it land.
She was keeping the tears locked in her throat.
When she finished shining a pair of sharp stilettos, the woman wearing them didn't move.
Vivian looked up.
The face looking down at her was full of malice and glee.
"Well. If it isn't the untouchable Mrs. Cross. How does it feel?"
Vivian recognized her immediately. Victoria Lang. Daughter of the Lang Corporation. A woman who had been obsessed with Dominic for years and had once slapped Vivian across the face when his back was turned.
Dominic had found out. He'd had someone break Victoria's hand. The Lang family had never recovered. After that, no one had dared touch Vivian.
Until now.
Vivian felt it coming before it happened.
Victoria lifted her foot and brought her stiletto heel down on the back of Vivian's hand.
The pain was blinding. Vivian cried out before she could stop herself.
Victoria laughed, pressing harder, grinding the heel across Vivian's fingers one by one, like she was trying to shatter every knuckle.
"Does that hurt? You walked around like you owned this city because he loved you. Look at you now. He doesn't want you anymore. You're nothing. Just a dog no one will take home."
The pain took over everything. Vivian's face went white. Cold sweat soaked through her back.
Through swimming vision, she looked up toward the second-floor terrace.
Dominic was standing there. A glass in his hand. Watching.
His brow furrowed slightly. His body shifted forward. He almost said something.
Then Lily pressed against his side, tipped her chin up, and murmured something in his ear.
He stopped.
He looked down at Lily. Then he put his arm around her waist. When he looked back down at the entrance, his eyes had already gone flat.
Vivian watched Lily's mouth curve in a smile that vanished almost before it appeared. She couldn't hear Dominic's exact words across the distance, but she could read them plainly.
"...don't worry about her... let her learn a lesson... she won't act out again..."
The last of anything in her chest gave out.
She couldn't hold herself up. The darkness took her.

Chapter 1
Madison said I stole her jewelry. Caleb lost it.
He didn't just take her side. He hired the best attorney in the city to build her case.
Three years. That's what I got. Grand larceny. I was a thief.
Before I went in, the attorney pulled him aside:
"You've made your point. If she actually does time, your sister's life is over."
Caleb didn't blink.
"Stealing isn't nothing. She needs to learn."
"After she gets out, I'll take care of her."
Three years later I walked out. He was standing there, eyes red, hand stretched toward me.
"You understand now, right? Come on. Let's go home."
I took one step back. No emotion. Just stepped back, and let his hand hang there.
I'd found a new brother inside.
He believed me.
Caleb watched me avoid his hand. Something flickered across his face. Surprise, maybe.
But he didn't pull back. He reached out again, faster this time. Certain.
"Ave, why are you pulling away? Did someone in there mess with you?"
His voice came out rough, like something was stuck in his throat.
I tried to shake free a few times. Couldn't. Finally I just said it flat:
"No."
He exhaled. Gripped my hand tighter.
"Okay. Good. I read online that those places are rough. As long as nobody touched you..."
I watched his face go soft with relief, his eyes going redder by the second. And somewhere inside me, I laughed. A cold, hollow sound that didn't make it out.
Caleb. You were the one who put me in there. Every last move was yours.
And now you care. Little late for that.
He smiled. Steered me toward the car like he was doing me a favor.
"You always loved a good party, right? I set up a little welcome-home dinner."
"Come on. Let's go home."
I glanced back once at the facility.
Inside, I'd met someone. A guy named Eli. He'd been framed for financial fraud, locked up. One more month and he'd be out. We'd already made a plan. I'd pick him up, and after that we'd figure out the rest together.
There were still some of Dad's things back at the house. That was the only reason I got in the car.
On the way home, Caleb reached over and ran his hand over my buzzed head. Half reminder, half warning.
"Ave. No more stealing. That's what this whole thing was about."
I dug my nails into my palm.
For three years I'd sent him messages through the guards. Told him over and over: I didn't take anything. Madison set me up.
He never believed me.
So this time I didn't bother.
I nodded. Quiet. Agreeable.
"Got it."
He smiled. Satisfied. Drove us home.
He pushed the front door open and a party popper went off. Streamers everywhere.
Madison was standing there holding it, three years older, smiling like nothing had ever happened.
"Hey, sis! Welcome home!"
She played it warm. Eyes bright, like she'd missed me so much she could barely stand it.
Nothing like the girl who'd looked at me with poison when she planted those jewels.
I walked past her without a word.
Her smile froze. She turned to Caleb, voice small and soft.
"Why won't she talk to me? Is she still upset?"
Caleb reached over and ruffled her hair.
"She just got out. Give her a minute. It's not about you."
I was already in the bedroom. I pulled open the drawer under the bed.
Dad's photo. His ring. Still there.
I breathed.
Caleb appeared in the doorway. Quiet.
"Ave. Come eat? You're so thin. I can see your ribs."
I pushed the drawer shut and followed him out.
At dinner, Madison kept talking. Casual. Like she was just making conversation.
"So what's it like in there? I heard it's pretty rough. Is that true?"
"Not really. You can read, watch the news. Lights out after dinner."
"Oh, that's not so bad. Not as bad as I imagined."
She let a flicker of disappointment cross her face. Just for a second.
Caleb peeled a shrimp and put it on my plate.
"You're out now. No point revisiting it. Call it a chapter, move on."
Madison's expression went dark. She stopped talking.
Then she seemed to remember something. She got up, disappeared into her room, and came back with a small box. She held it out to me.
"For you. Congratulations on getting out."
I didn't take it.
She opened it herself.
A pearl necklace. White and still and expensive-looking, laid out against dark velvet.
I looked at it for one second. My whole body went cold.
Madison slid the box closer, her face slowly twisting into something that wasn't a smile anymore.
"What's wrong, sis? You love this necklace, don't you? Loved it so much you took it."
"I'm giving it to you now. Aren't you happy?"

Chapter 2
That pearl necklace was a gift Caleb had given Madison.
It was also the reason I spent three years in federal prison.
After Dad died overseas, Mom took the military death benefit and disappeared. Left me and Caleb to figure it out. He dropped out of high school. Took years of wrong turns before he built something real. His own company. His own money.
Once he had it, he brought Madison home. Said she'd lost her dad too. Said she deserved a chance.
I didn't want to agree. He talked me into it.
"She's got nobody, Ave. You at least have me. Just think of her as family. It's just one more person at the table."
But once she moved in, he treated her better than he'd ever treated me. Like he was raising the little sister he wished he'd had. Jewelry, bags, whatever she wanted. In two years he'd spent a fortune on her. Money he'd nearly killed himself earning, grinding through client dinners until he got sick, throwing up blood some nights and going back in the next morning.
I hated watching it. I told him to slow down. Stop spending so much.
Madison never forgot that.
She hid her own jewelry under my pillow. Then she went crying to Caleb and said I took it.
He made me kneel in the rain and apologize.
"What kind of person did our family raise? Dad was a soldier. I've never done a dishonest thing in my life."
"Who are you trying to be, our mother? The one who stole the insurance money and ran?"
"You have everything you need. Why would you steal?"
I was running a fever. I cried. I told him I didn't do it.
He didn't hear me.
The next morning he called his attorney.
He stood up in court for Madison. Testified for her. Against me. His own sister.
Three years.
Before I went in, everyone tried to stop him. Relatives, friends, even the lawyer. They said I was a girl, that prison at my age would wreck my whole life. Caleb cut them all off one by one. He wanted me in there.
"She'll be fine. I work hard so I can take care of her. Even if it sets her back, I'll be there. But she stole. She needs the lesson."
Every month he came to visit. Every time he asked the same question through the glass: Do you understand what you did wrong?
I never showed up to those visits. I just sent word through the guards.
I didn't steal anything.
Every time, they'd come back and tell me the same thing.
"He doesn't believe you."
Disappointment, one visit at a time, slowly becoming something heavier. I started to think something was wrong with me. Started to feel like I'd been dropped by the whole world. Caleb was supposed to be the one person left. And then he wasn't.
Seeing that necklace again, something in me snapped.
I knocked the box off the table.
The pearls hit the floor and scattered everywhere, bouncing and rolling, string snapped clean.
Madison stood there frozen. Caleb's face went flat.
"She gives you a gift and you do this? She's not even holding it against you. What is wrong with you?"
He grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet.
"You think you can just throw tantrums the second you're out? Pick those up. And apologize to her."

Chapter 3
Apologize.
I shoved him back, hard. And I ran.
Outside, the cold hit me fast. All the grief and anger I'd been holding down the whole drive, the whole dinner, came loose at once.
I wasn't going to stay. The only reason I'd come back was for Dad's things. Now I just needed to get out.
Caleb caught up to me in seconds. Grabbed my wrist.
"Where do you think you're going? Three years inside and you still haven't changed?"
I pulled free and turned around, eyes burning.
"Was that kindness? What Madison just did? Caleb, you can't see that?"
"You're my brother. You already sent me away once. What else do you want from me?"
"I did this for your own good." His voice dropped. Harder now. "You did something wrong, so you accepted the consequences. Would you rather I stood by and watched you get away with it?"
Something in my chest caved in.
Since when did I ever steal anything?
What would I possibly want with her jewelry?
Why won't he think about it. Why won't he just believe me.
The tears came. Three years of it, all at once.
I gave up trying to explain.
Caleb looked at my buzzed head. His voice softened. Like he'd won something.
"Ave. Everything I've ever done has been about you. Yeah, you did three years. But I built you a future. It was a small thing. It's over now."
"My company will be yours one day. I was just teaching you a lesson. It's not the end of the world."
"Come home. Stop running."
He took my hand. Led me back inside.
I went. Didn't say a word. Felt nothing.
Madison was standing in the hallway when we came back in. Her eyes went to me, then to Caleb. She hadn't expected him to bring me home.
I was too tired to care. I went straight to the bedroom and didn't come out.
Late that night, Madison slipped into my room.
I heard her the second she came in. Kept my eyes closed.
She lifted my pillow. Slid something underneath. Put the pillow back down.
I didn't move. Didn't say anything. Didn't pull it out.
She was in that much of a hurry. First night back and she was already running the same play.
I decided to wait. I wanted to see what Caleb would do this time.


My Fiction
Chapter 1
In the gilded circles of Manhattan, everyone knew that Kostas Nikolaou, heir to the Nikolaou Shipping Group, was notoriously unapproachable, a man utterly devoid of romantic scandal.
Countless women, all of them stunning, had tried to capture his attention. None had succeeded.
Until four years ago, when Kostas met Arabella Sinclair at a charity dinner. A hearing impairment had always marked her as an outsider in a world where the qualifications for an heir's wife were brutally exacting. But the moment Kostas saw her, he was utterly undone.
Everyone said the Nikolaou heir had lost his mind.
His pursuit of Arabella lasted a full year. He purchased the rights to name a star after her. He invested twenty million dollars in her art foundation, funding a major exhibition that cemented her reputation. He defied his family, temporarily forfeiting his voting rights in the family trust and signing a personal guarantee at a tense family meeting.
Later, Kostas took her to Malta. He chose it for its complex marriage laws—a fact he seemed to relish. They married quickly, completing the registration in record time.
By the third year of their marriage, Arabella remained childless. Because of it, Kostas donated a small fortune to St. Nicholas Greek Orthodox Church and personally sponsored an underprivileged student at Columbia University. He told Arabella:
“If I put enough good into the world, maybe God will see fit to give us a child.”
But on the day Arabella had an appointment with an Upper East Side gynecologist, the day she was finally preparing for an exam, she saw Kostas, his arm draped around the very same student, Sophia, the two of them laughing as they walked into the obstetrics wing.
Arabella froze, her mind spiraling through the worst possible conclusions.
At the corner, a sudden knife-point robbery sent the street into chaos. Someone slammed into her, sending her sprawling. The back of her head cracked against a wall, and the world went black.
When she opened her eyes again, a cacophony of sound flooded Arabella's ears.
A nurse leaned over her. “How are you feeling? Dizzy? Any weakness?”
“I’m fine, thank you…”
The next second, Arabella went still.
She could hear.
...
The door to her hospital room was flung open. Kostas strode in and pulled her into his arms.
He smelled of cedar and leather, his voice low and trembling. “Darling, the man who knocked you down—the police have him. He'll be in prison for a very long time.”
Remembering she couldn't hear, he immediately repeated himself in fluent sign language. “From now on, I’m not leaving your side. I’ll protect you. I won’t let you get hurt again.”
Arabella looked at the raw concern on his face, at the smooth, familiar movements of his hands, and remembered the long nights he’d spent learning sign language just to speak her language.
She almost let herself believe it—that a man this devoted could never betray her.
She took a shaky breath. “Why were you at the hospital this morning—”
His phone rang, cutting her off.
Kostas glanced at the screen. “I need to take this.”
Arabella could only nod.
Helene’s sharp voice crackled through the receiver. “Kostas, when are you going to tell her? That child cannot be born into a scandal.”
Chapter 2
Kostas turned away, his voice dropping. “Not yet. We’ll wait until the pregnancy is stable.”
“This is what you promised me. That you would find a healthy woman to carry an heir, one who wouldn't pass on any potential genetic risks. It was the only reason I consented to your marriage to Arabella. You’re not backing out now, are you?”
Kostas’s brow furrowed. “For three years, I've been giving Arabella what she thinks are fertility vitamins. They're birth control pills. Sophia and I have been preparing for this for a year. It's too late to turn back now.”
He never noticed the color drain from Arabella’s face.
“Since you've come this far,” Helene said, “don't prolong it.”
Kostas replied in a low murmur, “Arabella was just injured. I can't tell her now. She couldn't handle it. Just give me a little more time.”
He hung up and turned back, signing to Arabella.
“That was my mother, asking about your injury. Now, what were you about to say?”
His phone chimed again.
Kostas glanced down, then turned to leave. “Something urgent came up at the office. I have to handle it. I’ll be back later.”
But Arabella had seen it clearly. The message was an iMessage from Sophia.
“Wait,” she called out. “I wasn’t finished.”
The heavy door of the hospital room swung shut, sealing her inside.
At that moment, a flood of memories—things she had deliberately ignored—rushed back to her.
Sophia lived in Washington Heights, miles from Columbia, yet Kostas always took a long detour to drive her home. When Sophia complained on Instagram about academic pressure, Kostas called the university and had her course load reduced. When Sophia failed a class, Kostas whisked her away to the Maldives to “relax.”
Arabella had been furious about it, confronting him more than once.
And every time, Kostas would simply say, “I’m doing good deeds for us. I want a child.”
Eventually, Arabella had stopped asking.
But that phone call was a needle to the heart, each word a fresh stab, reminding her what those “specially formulated vitamins” really were.
Every time he held her, kissed her in their bed, he was the same man who would later place a birth control pill in her hand.
He wasn't sponsoring Sophia out of charity.
He was cultivating her to bear his heir.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, the pain so sharp it stole her breath.
Finally, she tamped down the storm of emotion and dialed a number she hadn't called in years.
“Pierre, I'm willing to go to France for the biennial. But first, I need you to do me a favor.”
Chapter 3
A gentle male voice answered. “Arabella, if you're willing to come back, I'd do anything for you.”
“Three years ago, Kostas arranged for me to get Maltese citizenship. Can you help me renounce it and deal with the marriage certificate?”
“No problem. I know some lawyers there. But Kostas… will he let you go that easily? And your voice… you can hear?”
Arabella raised a hand to her ear, the sensation still new and strange.
“Yes. I can hear now,” she said softly. “As for Kostas, he’ll have no choice.”
Since Kostas had betrayed their marriage for a child, she would simply vanish from his world.
“Alright. Give me one month,” Pierre said. “I’ll arrange everything.”
For the next few days, Kostas continued to play the part of the perfect husband, just as he always had.
He spoon-fed her, dressed her wounds himself. Even the nurses couldn't help but comment on how lucky she was.
If not for the hushed phone calls with Sophia, Arabella might have almost believed she'd imagined it all.
That day, Sophia’s laughter drifted from the other end of the line.
“Did you smoke today?”
“Of course not,” Kostas answered instantly. “I promised you. For you and the baby, I’m done.”
“That’s more like it. Today makes sixty-five days. Come see me tonight. I have a reward for you.”
“Alright. Wait for me.”
Arabella lowered her head and sipped the soup in her bowl, keeping her eyes down, pretending she was deaf to it all.
But her eyes burned, and she had to fight to keep the tears from falling.
Six months ago, she'd discovered Kostas had started smoking again and had pleaded with him to quit.
He’d only said, “This project has been brutal. I'll quit as soon as it's over.”
After that, she would check the pockets of his suits, smell his fingers for any trace of smoke.
But he always had an excuse.
Sometimes it was a client offering one, and it would have been rude to refuse.
Other times, the late nights were getting to him, and he needed something to stay sharp.
He'd quit for a few days, only to start again, sometimes even complaining that she was trying to control him.
But now, for Sophia, he had gone a full sixty-five days without a single cigarette.
The affection in his voice was the same tone he'd used when he pursued her four years ago.
Chapter 4
Five days later, Kostas came to pick Arabella up from the hospital.
The moment she slid into the car, her body went rigid. Sophia was sitting in the back seat.
Kostas hurried to explain. “You're not fully recovered, so I've asked Sophia to help take care of you. Besides, our house is close to Columbia, which will be convenient for her classes.”
“Hello, Miss Arabella.” Sophia smiled sweetly, greeting her in clumsy sign language.
Kostas’s eyes softened with tenderness as he watched Sophia.
“She even learned sign language for you. Darling, you don't mind her moving in, do you?”
Arabella watched them perform their little play, a heavy weight pressing on her chest. In the end, she just nodded.
She was leaving soon anyway.
Let Sophia move in. Let her take the title of Mrs. Nikolaou tomorrow. Arabella no longer cared.
Kostas visibly relaxed and bent down to fasten her seatbelt.
Arabella sat in the passenger seat, the drive feeling unbearably long.
From the back seat, Sophia chattered on about herself for the entire ride. She talked about the stray cats on Columbia’s campus, gossiped about professors, and recounted arguments between classmates on Twitter.
These were subjects that, in Arabella's memory, would have bored Kostas to tears.
But now he listened intently, responding to every little thing she said.
Arabella closed her eyes, feigning rest.
In truth, she knew with chilling clarity that Kostas had changed.
He had always been a cold man. Aside from her, his only interest was work.
But now, he had let someone else into his world.
When the car stopped, Arabella got out, her face a mask.
She had just stepped through the front door when party poppers exploded overhead. Ribbons rained down, and the butler stepped forward, placing a massive bouquet of blue roses in her arms.
Kostas walked over, took her hand, and led her to the rooftop terrace.
The next second, fireworks shot into the night sky, illuminating all of New York before spelling out a single message.
Arabella I Love You
Three of his security staff came forward, each holding a gift box.
In the first was a Ragdoll kitten she’d admired for months.
In the second, the deed to an oceanfront estate in the Hamptons.
In the third, a diamond bracelet fresh from a Sotheby’s auction.
Kostas lifted his hands and slowly signed to her.
“Darling, happy third wedding anniversary.”

Chapter 1
It was the night the SAT scores dropped.
I scored a perfect 1600, securing my spot at Kingston University. My twin sister, Autumn, barely scraped a 900—not even enough for a decent community college.
My parents, George and Martha, spent the entire night whispering in the living room. The next morning, they took my State ID and my Kingston acceptance packet.
"Summer, honey, you're the smart one," Martha said. "You can always take a gap year, retake the test, and get back in. But your sister... she's fragile. She can't handle this kind of devastating blow."
"You two look identical anyway. From now on, Autumn will go by Summer Montgomery and head off to New Carthage for college. You'll stay home under her name and prep for next year's exams."
In my past life, they used suicide threats to lock me in my room. I watched helplessly as my sister stole my entire future, until the grueling pressure of the lockdown prep school drove me to severe depression and suicide.
But when I opened my eyes again, I was right back to the day my parents forced me to hand over my ID.
...
I had just walked through the front door when my father called me over.
"Summer, give me your ID and your admission ticket."
Martha sat beside him, her eyes completely filled with worry—all for Autumn, of course.
"Autumn usually does well; she just had a bad test day," George muttered, puffing on a cigarette. "You always score high. A gap year won't hurt you."
"Her mental health is too fragile. If she finds out she's stuck going to a local community college, it'll ruin her life."
"Besides, you look exactly the same. No one out there will ever notice the difference."
I sat at the dining table, quietly observing the two people I had called Mom and Dad for eighteen years. In my last life, they locked me away, making me watch as my sister robbed me of my destiny.
They packed me off to a hyper-strict, isolated cram school. Shattered and traumatized, I would start shaking the moment I saw a test prep booklet. The instructors ruthlessly mocked me, asking why I couldn't be more like my "brilliant older sister."
Eventually, the crushing depression swallowed me whole, and I swallowed a lethal bottle of sleeping pills.
In my final moments of consciousness, my entire family was gathered around the TV, watching Autumn gleefully accept an interview as Kingston's star freshman.
When I opened my eyes again, I was right back at this dining table.
This time, I walked calmly to my bedroom, grabbed my ID and admission packet, and laid them flat on the coffee table.
"Okay."
George froze. His hand, holding his cigarette, stopped mid-air. He clearly hadn't expected me to give in so effortlessly.
Martha lunged forward, snatched the documents, and gripped them tightly against her chest as if afraid I'd change my mind.
"Summer, you are such a good, mature girl," Martha gushed. "Mom knows this is unfair, but I'll make sure to send you extra allowance. Buy yourself something nice at the prep school."
Just then, Autumn stepped out of the bedroom. She was wearing my favorite white sundress—the one I had bought with the prize money from winning the District Academic Excellence Award.
She walked over, picked up my Kingston admission packet, and flashed a sweet, innocent smile.
"Thanks, sis. I'll make sure to enjoy campus life in New Carthage for both of us."
The smug triumph in her voice was pathetic. I looked at the face that mirrored my own perfectly and gave a benevolent nod.
"Go ahead. Enjoy every second of it."
It was only when my soul was floating over them in my past life that I learned the truth: a month before the SATs, the Federal Admissions Bureau had issued a strict directive.
They were launching a massive crackdown on identity theft and admissions fraud, with a hyper-focus on identical twins.
After my suicide, an intense audit hit Autumn. It quickly became clear that her actual academic performance wasn't even close to Kingston's standards.
Her admission was revoked, and she became an internet pariah—exposed nationwide as the monster who stole her twin's life and drove her to suicide. Ruined, George and Martha had to change their names and flee with her to the Sun Belt just to survive.
Having returned to the living, I had no intention of repeating history. First thing this morning, I bought a thumb-sized hidden camera and tucked it into a blind spot behind the living room television.
Then, I made a trip straight to the State Admissions Bureau and filed a special high-security biometric fraud protection request for twins. I had them log my ten-print fingerprints and an entire eye iris scan.
This data mapped directly into the highest tier of the Ivy League Enrollment Verification System. The moment a candidate steps through registration, one scan tells the machine exactly who they are.
Forging federal identification and hijacking an elite university placement?
That's a direct ticket to federal prison.
Chapter 2
The day the official Kingston acceptance packet arrived in the mail, my parents went all out. They bought a massive pack of party poppers and air horns, setting them off outside our apartment complex until the noise was deafening.
Our neighbor, Mrs. Higgins, bustled over to offer her congratulations.
"Oh, George! Your Summer has done us proud! Kingston University! Our neighborhood hasn't seen an Ivy League admission in a decade!"
George was grinning from ear to ear, clapping Autumn on the shoulder.
"The girl's been working her fingers to the bone. She earned it."
Parading around under my name, Autumn put on a perfectly sweet, humble act.
"Thank you, Mrs. Higgins. Honestly, I just got lucky."
I stood out on the balcony, watching the entire puppet show unfold below.
How utterly ironic. The one who had actually stayed up until dawn grinding through practice exams was locked inside, forced to scrub the floors.
Meanwhile, the one who couldn't even hit the baseline for a community college was soaking up everyone's praise.
The door clicked open, and Martha walked into my room holding a thick stack of cash.
"Summer, take this five hundred dollars. Your mandatory, fully-residential prep academy starts tomorrow. I've already enrolled you."
She handed me the bills. "It's a strict boarding program—meals and housing included, with only one weekend off a month. Once you're in, put your head down and study. Don't let your mind wander."
I took the cash and shoved it into my pocket.
"Okay."
Martha glanced at me, seemingly unnerved by how quiet I was being.
"Don't go blaming us for this. With your sister's brains, she'd never make it through a gap-year retake. You're different; you have a solid foundation."
"Once she graduates and lands a high-paying corporate job in New Carthage, she'll make sure to look out for you. Family helps family."
I scoffed inwardly. Look out for me? With a brain as riddled with errors as Autumn's?
Autumn had always known exactly how to manipulate our parents, and they had favored her since we were kids.
I should have known long ago that when it came to choosing between us, it was never a difficult decision for them.
I packed a few of my old clothes into a worn-out suitcase. Then, I popped the SIM card out of my phone, snapped it in half, and tossed it into the trash can.
Early the next morning, George drove me out to the prep school. Autumn rode shotgun; she wanted to hit the downtown shopping district to buy a brand-new wardrobe, claiming she couldn't afford to look like a charity case when she showed up at Kingston.
The car pulled up to the gates of the prep academy. It was a bleak, converted factory structure out in the industrial suburbs, complete with heavy iron gates and security wire running along the top of the fencing.
My father practically shoved me out of the vehicle.
Autumn rolled down her window, flashing a smug, cheerful wave.
"Good luck with the retakes, sis! When I come back for Thanksgiving break, I'll bring you some local treats from New Carthage!"
I watched their car pull away. The moment their taillights bled into the distant traffic at the end of the road, I turned around and walked straight toward the public transit stop.
Prep school?
Please. Did they really think I was that stupid?
I hadn't registered for a single class at that academy. Martha had indeed wired the tuition money, but she had sent it directly into the school's billing account.
First thing this morning, I had called their admissions office, informed them I wouldn't be attending, and instructed them to refund the tuition directly onto my personal debit card.
I reached down and patted the plastic card inside my pocket.
Five hundred dollars in spending cash, plus the six thousand dollars refunded from the tuition. It was more than enough to keep me afloat on my own for a very long time.
I boarded a transit bus and headed straight for the grand central station.
Destination: New Carthage. One-way ticket.
Chapter 3
On the express train, I pulled out my brand-new phone, slid in a fresh SIM card, and logged into Kingston University's internal student portal.
My account credentials and temporary password had been sent to my private recovery email weeks ago.
My parents had only confiscated the physical, printed acceptance letter. They were too clueless to realize that elite modern universities were completely digitized.
Without my personal phone for two-factor authentication and my biometric face scan to activate the enrollment profile, that fancy piece of paper in their hands was nothing but garbage.
I tapped through the portal and clicked on the option to defer my orientation arrival by forty-eight hours, citing a medical issue. The admissions office approved it within minutes.
Once I arrived in New Carthage, I checked into a budget motel near the campus. My daily routine was simple: eat, sleep, and sneak into the university libraries to borrow their Wi-Fi and read.
I also spent a fair amount of time lurking in the incoming freshman Discord server.
It didn't take long for Autumn to join.
She immediately changed her server nickname to Summer Montgomery - Physics Major. The second she verified her account, she started dropping digital gift cards and spamming selfies.
[Hey everyone! I'm Summer. So excited to meet you all! Let's be besties!]
The chat instantly erupted.
[Whoa, the perfect 1600 SAT scorer!]
[An academic goddess and she looks like a supermodel? Life is so unfair!]
[Summer, we definitely need to grab coffee sometime!]
Autumn absolutely thrived on being the center of attention. She flirted and mingled in the chat, carefully curating an image of an approachable, incredibly wealthy heiress.
Then, someone pinged her: [Hey Summer, I heard you got a perfect score on the National Physics Olympiad. How did you solve that final theoretical mechanics question?]
The entire channel went dead silent for a full minute.
Autumn couldn't solve a high school physics problem to save her life; she couldn't even recite Newton's three laws of motion.
A moment later, she uploaded a voice note, her tone deliberately sweet and airy.
"Oh gosh, I completely checked out the second exams ended! Right now, my brain only has room for checking out the best restaurants around campus. Let's talk academics once classes actually start, okay? "
A few guys immediately jumped in to laugh it off, steering the conversation away.
I let out a cold chuckle. I was genuinely curious to see how long she could keep up this stolen life.
The night before official registration closed, I walked into the Department of Physics orientation office. The academic advisor, Dr. Avery, was a sharp, competent woman in her early thirties finishing up her post-doc.
I gave a polite knock on her open office door.
"Hello, Dr. Avery. I'm an incoming freshman, Summer Montgomery."
Dr. Avery looked up from her laptop. The moment she saw me, a warm smile spread across her face.
"Summer! Didn't you submit a request to delay your check-in by two days for medical reasons? Are you feeling better?"
"Much better, thank you. That's why I wanted to come by early."
I walked over to her desk and handed over my physical State ID along with my digital enrollment QR code.
"Dr. Avery, I actually came ahead of time because I need to file an official report."
I looked her dead in the eye.
"Tomorrow morning, someone who looks exactly like me is going to walk into this office, carrying my printed acceptance packet, and try to register under my name."
Dr. Avery froze, her pen stopping mid-air.
"What did you just say?"
Chapter 4
Dr. Avery's face went completely pale as she listened to my story.
"This is absolutely monstrous! Do they think federal academic admissions are some kind of joke?!" She slammed her hand down on the desk, her eyes suddenly softening with deep empathy.
"How could your own parents do something like this? Stealing your entire life just to feed your sister's vanity!"
I sat across from her, my expression entirely detached. "Dr. Avery, I don't need the university to mediate my family drama. I just want Kingston to follow its absolute strictest freshman verification protocols. Just do everything strictly by the book."
Dr. Avery looked at me, a flash of genuine admiration gleaming in her eyes. "You don't have to worry."
"Kingston isn't a place just anyone can wander into. This isn't just a personal matter anymore—this is a direct assault on the integrity of the entire higher education system."
"I will personally oversee the physics registration desk tomorrow. I'll also flag campus security. The moment we need you to step in, I'll call you."
I stood up and gave her a deeply respectful, heartfelt nod.
The next morning, the Kingston plaza was absolute chaos.
Banners hung everywhere, check-in tables lined the quad, and the entire area was packed with freshmen and parents wheeling heavy suitcases.
I found a spot on the second floor of the campus dining hall, right by a window. From this angle, I had a completely unobstructed view of the physics department's registration tent.
At exactly nine-thirty, George and Martha appeared in the quad, flanking Autumn like bodyguards.
Autumn was completely dolled up today. She wore a designer dress, carried a multi-thousand-dollar handbag, and had styled her hair into soft, perfect curls.
Clutching that crisp, official acceptance letter in her hand, she stood with her posture painfully rigid, trying to look the part.
George's face was flushed red with pride, grinning at literally anyone who made eye contact. "Perfect SAT score! That's my girl!" he boomed.
They marched right up to the physics department tent, where Dr. Avery was personally stationed. Standing right next to her desk were two uniformed campus security officers.
Autumn slapped the acceptance letter onto the table with an entitled thud. "Hi, I'm Summer Montgomery. I'm here to register."
Dr. Avery didn't even look up. She casually picked up the paper, glanced at it, and said, "State ID."
Autumn dug into her designer purse, pulled out my physical ID, and handed it over. Dr. Avery slid the card across the electronic scanner.
The machine let out a sharp beep. Instantly, my full profile and academic file flashed across her monitor.
George chimed in impatiently from the side. "Can we speed this up a bit, officer? We're in a rush to check out her dorm. My brilliant girl here has had a grueling couple of weeks and needs her rest."
Instead of finalizing the paperwork, Dr. Avery calmly pulled a black fingerprint scanner from beneath the desk, right next to a mounted iris-recognition camera. Her gaze was razor-sharp, cutting straight through their arrogant facade.
"Per the new Ivy League and Federal Board anti-fraud directives, we have implemented an enhanced biometric identity verification system specifically flagged for twins," Dr. Avery announced, her voice icy.
"Miss Montgomery, please place your finger on the scanner and look directly into the camera."

Chapter 1
I was my husband's ultimate lucky charm.
Just not in the way anyone would expect.
The more I spent, the more money Julian Hawthorne's company made.
The day I dropped seven figures on jewelry, he closed a billion-dollar deal. The night I bought out the entire Sen Island Resort, he locked down overseas funding.
Then my mother-in-law, Beatrice Hawthorne, moved in.
At the first family dinner, she fanned my credit card statements across the table and tore into me in front of everyone.
"Three million a month. Tell me, Vivian, did you marry my son, or did you just marry his bank account?"
"A wife is supposed to run a household, not drain it dry."
I tried calling Julian, but it went straight to voicemail.
Beatrice cut off my credit cards on the spot and demanded every receipt I had.
"Starting today, you don't spend a dime without logging it. Every purchase, every cent goes in this ledger."
I looked at the notebook she shoved toward me.
I smiled.
"Sure."
"This month, I'll be the perfect little wife."
***
When Beatrice slammed the ledger down in front of me, the living room was packed with Julian's relatives.
His sister, Blair Hawthorne, had her phone out, panning across my walk-in closet like she was filming a reality show.
The camera swept over a row of designer bags, then lingered on the jewelry case.
She sucked in a breath, loud and theatrical.
"Mom, are you seeing this?"
"This one cabinet alone could buy a normal person a house."
Beatrice's face went pale with rage.
She yanked the top statement from a stack of statements and threw it at my feet.
"See for yourself, Vivian."
"Last month, one point two million on jewelry. Eight hundred thousand on a hotel booking. Six hundred thousand on custom dresses."
"And that's just what I've found so far."
"Julian's out there working day and night to build this company, and you're home burning through his money like it's nothing?"
The relatives piled on right away.
"Three million a month? That's insane."
"Beatrice, you need to get this girl under control."
"A wife should know how to budget. Keep this up and she'll bleed him dry."
I could've laughed.
When Julian's family first started the business, the company nearly went under. Cash flow had completely dried up.
Our first month of marriage, I dropped three hundred thousand dollars on a necklace.
The next day, a payment he'd been chasing for six months finally hit his account.
After that, it was like clockwork. I'd buy bags, he'd land contracts. I'd book hotels, he'd secure funding.
The more I spent, the better his books looked.
Julian didn't believe it either. Not at first.
Then one night, he sat down and matched every one of my purchases against his company's revenue dates. By the time he finished, he was completely speechless.
After that, every morning before he left, it was the same thing.
"Babe, don't forget to max out a card today."
But I couldn't tell Beatrice any of that.
She wouldn't believe me. She'd just think I was making excuses for my spending habits.
I tried anyway.
"Mom, there's a reason I spend like this."
Beatrice scoffed.
"A reason? Really?"
"You skip one necklace and what? Julian's company folds?"
"I've met women who blow money, but I've never met one with the nerve to act like she's doing him a favor."
Blair burst out laughing.
"Vivian, do you hear yourself right now?"
"Most wives help their husbands by keeping a good home, and you're saying your contribution is shopping sprees?"
A few relatives in the living room joined in, snickering.
Beatrice's expression hardened.
"I don't care how you had Julian wrapped around your little finger before."
"Now that I'm here, this house runs on my rules."
She pushed a debit card across the table.
"I've already cut off your credit cards."
"This is your budget for the month."
"Three hundred dollars. Groceries, toiletries, gas. All of it comes out of that."
"You write down every purchase, every day, and you send me the ledger every night."
I raised an eyebrow. "Three hundred?"
"Is that a problem?" Beatrice held my stare.
"Plenty of people get by on three hundred a month. Why should a daughter-in-law who doesn't even work need more?"
Blair jumped in immediately.
"Don't go soft on her, Mom."
"Julian spoiled her rotten. That's the whole problem."
"One month in the real world will fix that real fast."
I picked up the ledger and opened it to the first page.
It was blank. Every line, untouched.
Beatrice seemed to sense she'd finally won, and her voice eased up.
"Vivian, I'm not doing this to be cruel."
"When you marry into a family, you put that family first."
"Money doesn't grow on trees, even Julian's."
I nodded.
"You're right."
"This month, I won't spend a single cent without your approval."
Beatrice smiled, satisfied.
"That's more like it."
Only I knew what that meant.
Julian was overseas right now, locked in final negotiations. He'd been counting on me to make a big purchase today.
His last message was still sitting on my phone.
[Babe, spend big before 10 AM tomorrow.]
[This contract is everything.]
I looked down at the cut-off card in my hand.
I didn't reply.
Chapter 2
On the first day of Beatrice's budget, I didn't spend a cent.
At nine that morning, the brand manager called.
"Mrs. Hawthorne, that emerald set you ordered three months ago just arrived. Should we put it on the usual card?"
Beatrice was sitting right across from me. The second she heard "emerald," she went still.
I put the phone on speaker.
"No, thank you. Cancel the order."
The brand manager paused. "Mrs. Hawthorne, you placed this order three months ago. It just came in today."
"Are you sure you want to cancel?"
I looked at Beatrice.
She gave me a single, sharp nod.
I smiled. "I'm sure."
The call ended, and Beatrice finally let herself look pleased.
"See? Just like that, you saved yourself a fortune."
Blair rolled her eyes. "Vivian used to throw money around without even thinking."
"A whole jewelry set on a whim. Anyone watching would think Julian prints his own money."
I didn't argue.
I just opened the ledger and wrote the first entry.
[Day one. Expenses: $0.]
At 10:05, Julian's assistant called. He was barely above a whisper.
"Mrs. Hawthorne, there's a situation with Mr. Hawthorne's overseas contract."
I glanced at Beatrice. "What kind of situation?"
"The signing was scheduled for ten this morning, but the other side got cold feet at the last minute. They want to reassess the risk."
"Mr. Hawthorne's still in the room. He can't step away. He asked me to check with you..."
He hesitated.
"Have you made any purchases today?"
Beatrice's expression shifted in an instant. She grabbed the phone out of my hand.
"Who is this?"
"I'm... I'm Mr. Hawthorne's assistant."
"And what exactly does Julian's contract have to do with whether she goes shopping?"
"He's got an entire company full of people. Are they all useless?"
"They need her to go on a shopping spree before anyone can close a deal?"
The assistant went completely silent.
Beatrice hung up.
"This is ridiculous."
"Is his whole team making up excuses for you now, or did you coach them?"
I took my phone back.
"Mom, I tried to tell you."
Beatrice shoved the ledger toward me.
"Don't try to scare me with that nonsense."
"Deals fall through for a hundred different reasons. But not one of them has anything to do with a daughter-in-law who sits around all day doing nothing."
Blair backed her up immediately. "Exactly."
"If you're really some kind of good-luck charm, Vivian, why don't you go start your own company?"
I was done trying to explain.
For lunch, Beatrice made the meal herself.
She set a meager bowl of plain oatmeal in front of me.
"You used to eat every meal at some Michelin-star restaurant."
"That's over now. From here on, the extravagant meals are over."
"You don't need to be so high-maintenance. Cutting back starts right here at the table."
I looked at the oatmeal and ate every bite without a word.
Later that afternoon, Julian's assistant called again. This time, his voice was shaking.
"Mrs. Hawthorne, it's bad."
"The overseas client didn't just walk away from the signing. They went straight to our competitors."
"Mr. Hawthorne's been blindsided. He's scrambling over there."
Something in Beatrice's face shifted when she heard that.
But she dug in anyway.
"That's business. It happens."
"It's one contract."
"Julian's been through worse."
I opened the ledger and wrote the second entry.
[Day one. Expenses: $0.]
[Loss: overseas contract lost.]
Beatrice snatched the pen out of my hand.
"What the hell are you writing that for?"
I looked at her.
"Keeping the ledger."
"You told me to keep it."
Chapter 3
The next day, Beatrice locked my walk-in closet.
She said she was afraid I couldn't help myself.
Blair took it a step further. She pulled out a few of my unopened bags, photographed them, and listed them on a luxury resale site.
"Vivian, these bags are just sitting here collecting dust."
"Might as well sell them and put the money back into the family account."
I sat on the couch and watched them go through my things.
"Those can't be sold."
Beatrice didn't even look up. "Why not?"
"You spent millions on these. Now you can get a few hundred thousand back, and that money can go back into the family account."
Blair held up a crocodile bag.
"Someone online is offering $600,000 for this one."
"Julian's going to be thrilled when he finds out we're getting some of his money back."
I looked at the bag.
I bought that bag the night before his company went public. The next day, the stock soared on its first day of trading.
"Blair."
"Don't touch that one."
She raised her eyebrows. "What, too attached to let it go?"
Beatrice's voice went cold. "That's exactly why we're selling it."
"You want to put a woman like her in her place, you start with whatever she values the most."
I looked away.
"Suit yourselves."
Within hours, Blair had gleefully listed several bags online.
That afternoon, Julian's company got hit again.
When the assistant called this time, panic didn't even cover it anymore.
"Mrs. Hawthorne, there's a problem on the logistics side."
"A shipment of critical equipment just cleared the port, and the client rejected the whole thing. They said it failed inspection."
"But that shipment already passed every check on our side."
"Now they're demanding a full refund and coming after us for damages on top of it."
Beatrice sat at the dining table, her fork frozen mid-bite.
"How much?"
The assistant hesitated. "If the full order gets sent back, plus the damages, we're looking at $80 million, minimum."
Blair's phone nearly slipped out of her hand. She looked at me, her voice barely there.
"Vivian, this... this isn't actually about the bags, is it?"
Beatrice shot her a look. "Are you out of your mind?"
"What does a failed inspection have to do with a handbag?"
She turned to me, eyes narrowing, as if daring me to say a word. "Don't even think about it, Vivian."
"Julian's company is big enough to handle a bump in the road."
I smiled. "I'm not thinking anything."
"I'm doing exactly what you asked."
Beatrice had nothing to say to that.
That night, she called me into the living room.
A new document was laid out on the coffee table.
[New Household Rules]
Rule one: no luxury purchases.
Rule two: no high-end hotels.
Rule three: no takeout, no coffee runs.
Rule four: ledger submitted every night.
Rule five: progress report to the family group chat at the end of the month.
Blair read through it, beaming. "Mom, this is perfect."
"If somebody had kept Vivian on a leash like this from the start, imagine how much money this family could've saved."
Beatrice pushed the document toward me. "Sign it."
I looked at her. "Are you sure you want to take it this far?"
Beatrice scoffed. "It's been two days and you already want to quit?"
"There are no shortcuts here, Vivian. You want to be part of this family, you learn to act like it."
"This month, you're breaking this habit if it's the last thing I do."
I picked up the pen and signed my name at the bottom.
Then I opened the ledger.
[Day two. Expenses: $0.]
[Loss: equipment return estimated at $80 million.]
Beatrice saw what I'd written, and the color drained from her face.
I kept my voice even.
"Mom, if we're keeping this ledger, we're doing it properly."

Chapter 1
The day a buyout offer arrived for the house I inherited from my family, I got a text from my future self.
[In fifteen days, the government survey will find the land isn't suitable for construction. The buyout will be canceled.]
[If you don't want to get stuck with that house, sell it now.]
I didn't hesitate.
I sold the inherited family home that should've brought me ten million dollars for five million instead.
By the time I finished the paperwork and got home, my boyfriend's so-called "girl bro" was sitting on his lap, wearing my silk nightgown.
She laughed so hard her shoulders shook.
"I'm dying! I literally just grabbed some random number and pretended to be Future Simone."
"I told her the buyout wasn't happening, and that idiot actually believed me."
"And she sold a ten-million-dollar property for half its value—just like that."
Her hand drifted lower as she grinned at Wade Voss.
"C'mere. Let me check if sleeping with that moron made you stupid too."
Of course I knew the text was fake.
Because I really had come back from the future.
---
The second Wade saw me, he froze.
He shoved Brynn off his lap and scrambled to his feet.
"Simone, it's not what it looks like..."
Brynn casually brushed her hair back, exposing the vivid marks scattered across her neck.
Her cheeks were flushed as she smirked at me.
"Come on, Simone. I was just sitting on my buddy's lap."
"Don't tell me you're gonna throw another jealous fit?"
Wade laughed awkwardly.
"Simone, you know how it is. I've never thought of her like that."
"We're just buddies. We like to mess around, that's all."
Brynn grabbed Wade's hand and pressed it against her chest, without a trace of shame.
"Exactly. As if I'd ever want this loser."
"See? We can touch each other, and it feels just like touching ourselves. Nothing."
"Right, buddy?"
Wade's throat bobbed.
The way he looked at her made it obvious he wanted far more than friendship.
I felt like a third wheel, a buzzkill to their little make-out session.
I walked past the couch and pushed open the master bedroom door.
The air hit me immediately. The bed was a mess. Their clothes were scattered across the sheets.
Our framed photo was on the floor by the nightstand, the glass shattered.
Wade hurried after me. His voice left no room for argument.
"She's been having nightmares lately. She can't sleep unless someone's with her."
"So she'll take the master bedroom. You can use the guest room."
When I kept staring at him, he rushed to explain.
"I swear, she's just a friend to me. Even if we share a bed, I'm not interested in her."
"Don't be like this, okay? Just be cool."
My gaze dropped to the trash can.
Several used condoms sat inside.
The sting behind my eyes nearly broke me.
"Okay." I said.
Wade blinked. He seemed genuinely surprised that I wasn't screaming, crying, or demanding answers like before.
"Wait, you're... not mad?"
I forced a smile. It probably looked more like a grimace.
"Why would I be?"
"You two are basically buddies."
"It's totally normal for buddies to sleep together, right?"
A strange look crossed his face. He studied me, as if trying to find a crack in my facade.
Before he could say anything, a sharp scream came from the living room.
Then Brynn's irritated voice echoed through the apartment.
"Wade, get your ass over here."
"You suck at this. I told you to stop and you didn't."
"Now I'm hurting, so get your ass over here and take care of me."
I'd already made up my mind to leave Wade.
I thought I was done with him.
But when he rushed to her side without a second thought, pain still tore through my chest.
Chapter 2
I fought back the sting in my chest and pulled out a suitcase to start packing.
But when I opened the jewelry box I kept locked in my dresser, my blood ran cold.
My mother's only keepsake—the heirloom sapphire bracelet—was gone.
Only Wade and I knew the password to that drawer.
In my previous life, Brynn had moved in on this exact day and taken over the master bedroom.
I'd gotten into a screaming match with Wade and called her every name I could think of.
He'd slapped me across the face and chased after Brynn when she stormed out.
I spent the entire night crying alone in a corner.
And until the day I died, I never realized my mother's bracelet had vanished.
I snapped back to the present.
The sound of laughter drifted from the guest bathroom.
My hands trembling, I pushed the door open to find Wade scrubbing Brynn's bare back.
"Ah!" Brynn covered herself dramatically and let out a shrill scream.
"What the hell is wrong with you, Simone? Ever heard of boundaries?!"
Wade pulled her into his arms right away, blocking my view with his own body.
"Simone! You've crossed the line this time!"
I lowered the phone I'd been recording with.
The whole thing was laughable.
A woman had my boyfriend washing her back.
Yet somehow I was the one with boundary issues.
Every time Brynn called Wade away in the middle of the night, he'd tell me she was his best friend and I needed to stop being so insecure.
When they kissed, he claimed it was just a stupid dare and told me not to be so dramatic about it.
Even when I caught them in bed together, and I completely lost it, his friends just called me crazy and said I couldn't take a joke.
Wade always said the same things—that I was overthinking it, that I was just jealous.
He and Brynn were just friends. Friends shared a bed. It was no big deal.
If something were going on between them, they'd already be together—he never would've proposed to me.
Just like now.
Wade stood in front of Brynn after she'd gotten dressed.
The two of them stood united, as if against a common enemy. The table between us felt like a battle line.
Brynn smacked Wade on the ass.
"Seriously?"
"Your fiancée just got a free show, and you're not even going to defend me?"
She rolled her eyes.
"What are you standing there for, you coward?"
"You weren't this pathetic when you were doing me so hard I couldn't take it!"
"So what happened to all that confidence?"
Wade murmured a few words to calm her down before turning back to me. His expression darkened.
"Simone, I told you already. I was just helping her wash her back, that's all."
"Why are you making such a huge deal out of it?"
When I didn't respond, his voice softened, almost as if he were coaxing a child.
"Come on, just apologize to her. She's the bigger person. She'll forgive you."
I stared into his angry eyes and refused to say a word.
His patience was running out.
Before he could explode, I hurled the empty jewelry box at him.
My voice trembled. "The bracelet—did you steal it?"
The words died in his throat. His eyes shifted away.
"Steal? That's a harsh word, don't you think? We're getting married—what's yours is mine."
"You never wore it anyway. It was just sitting there. So I sold it."
"I needed the money to help Brynn buy a house."
My eyes widened in disbelief.
"Wade, you knew that was the only thing my mother left me!"
Brynn examined her manicure without looking up.
Her tone was completely matter-of-fact.
"If my good little buddy hadn't insisted on helping me buy a place, I wouldn't have wanted it anyway."
"Wearing something from a dead person? Talk about bad juju."
Chapter 3
Seeing the confusion on my face, Brynn let out a mocking laugh.
"He never told you? That house you sold—he bought it for me."
"He put down a $1.5 million down payment just to help me out."
My blood ran cold.
Slowly, I turned to Wade.
The guilt written all over his face told me everything.
But even if he'd sold the heirloom sapphire bracelet, it would've only brought in a few thousand dollars.
Where had he gotten $1.5 million?
Then a horrifying thought hit me.
My hands trembled as I opened our joint bank account on my phone.
[Balance: $3.15. Recipient: Brynn. Memo: Voluntary Gift.]
My legs nearly buckled. Eyes burning red, I finally screamed.
"Wade! That was our money!"
"Five years of savings for our wedding home—and you just gave it away to someone else?!"
For five years, I'd scrimped and saved every penny.
Every month, I'd deposited ten thousand dollars into that account.
Then, after my mother passed away a year ago, I added the six hundred thousand dollars from her wrongful death settlement.
Together, we'd saved $1.2 million.
And he'd given every penny of it to Brynn.
When faced with my anger, Wade's voice actually softened.
"Simone, Brynn's my buddy. She's not some outsider."
"You have me. You have someone to rely on. We can save up for another house later."
"But Brynn's such a tomboy. If she doesn't have a house—some kind of security—who's ever gonna want her?"
My eyes burned red.
"Whether she owns a house or not is none of your business!"
"That money belonged to us!"
His expression hardened.
"Simone, why are you being so selfish?"
"If anything, you should be thanking her."
"Without Brynn, that five million dollars would've gone to somebody else."
The absurdity of it all made me laugh, nearly to the point of tears.
"So I should thank you both?"
"For stealing my money, my bracelet, and tricking me into selling a property at half price??"
Wade's face darkened.
"Tricking you? Nobody tricked you. You're just dumb enough to fall for it."
"If someone tells you a property won't get bought out and you immediately sell it, that's on you."
"That house was only worth $1.5 million."
"We paid five. You made a profit, so you should be grateful."
I stared at him, taking in his self-righteous expression.
The sheer shamelessness of it all—it was beyond ridiculous.
What he didn't know, though, was that I really had come out ahead. Because the buyout was never happening.
In my previous life, I hadn't believed the text message.
I'd never met the buyer.
But in this life, I knew his name. Rudy Keane.
Looking back, he did resemble Brynn.
He was probably the younger brother she'd mentioned before.
And his eyes—they were nearly identical to the man who had abducted me on my wedding day.
The man who'd tried to assault me. The man who had accidentally killed me.
After I died, my spirit lingered beside Wade. I watched everything unfold.
Brynn slipped into my wedding dress, claiming the bride had thrown a tantrum and bailed.
She said she was just stepping in to save the day.
And just like that, she took my place.
A few days before the wedding, Wade had sweet-talked me into signing the marriage certificate.
Not long after, my body was found.
As my legal spouse, he inherited the inherited family home.
Then he rushed to marry Brynn.
They thought they were about to become millionaires overnight.
Instead, the government canceled the developer buyout days later.
Their dream collapsed before it even began.
The realization hit me like a bucket of ice water.
My death hadn't been an accident—it was Brynn's plan all along.
A chill shot down my spine.
And Wade—was he in on it too?
I looked straight into his eyes.
For the first time, suspicion took root. And once it did, it spread like wildfire.
"I want my mother's bracelet back."
"And I want my $1.2 million returned."
"If I don't get both back, I'm going to the police."
I grabbed my suitcase. Then I walked out.
Behind me, Brynn's mocking laughter echoed through the apartment.
"See? What did I tell you—it's always about money with her."
"Good thing we didn't bother saving her mom. Letting the old hag die early was a blessing."
"Otherwise, the whole family would've bled you dry."
Chapter 4
I went still.
I stared, incredulous, at Wade, who was desperately clamping his hand over Brynn's mouth.
My voice barely came out.
"What does she mean by that?"
Wade couldn't meet my eyes.
Brynn, meanwhile, shrugged it off as if she were discussing something utterly trivial.
"It means I was the one who hit your mom."
"Actually, she wasn't dead right away—but her lower body was crushed."
"She would've been a useless cripple for the rest of her life."
"She saw my face. She definitely would've tried to shake me down for everything I had."
Brynn shrugged. "So Wade told me to wait."
"We sat there for about thirty minutes until she finally died."
"Then we called 911."
Her expression turned annoyed.
"And the whole thing cost me over a grand."
"Since you're my buddy's fiancée, I never even asked you to pay me back."
My knees nearly buckled. Pain ripped through my chest.
A year ago, I was working late when Wade called.
He told me my mother had been in a car accident and was at the hospital.
By the time I got there, a white sheet had already been pulled over her body.
The overwhelming grief caused me to miscarry my three-month-old baby.
Then I collapsed and spent days unconscious.
When I finally came to, the case had already been closed.
Wade told me the driver was a single parent with cancer. That they were struggling.
He'd signed the letter of forgiveness on my behalf, saying it was to build good karma for my mother.
I had trusted him completely. Never once doubted him.
What I never imagined was that the driver was actually Brynn.
And the two of them had stood there and watched my mother die.
The fury in my eyes must have been obvious.
Wade's face hardened.
"Simone, this isn't Brynn's fault."
"Your mom threw herself in front of Brynn's car. She was trying to scam her."
"It's your mom's fault Brynn was too scared to drive for months afterward."
He kept going. Like he actually believed every word.
"And let's be realistic."
"Even if we'd saved her, the medical bills would've been insane."
"She would've spent the rest of her life paralyzed."
"We just couldn't afford to take care of a cripple."
"I helped her end her suffering—no more pain, no burden on us. A win-win, right?"
Three years earlier, Wade's liver had failed. He needed a transplant.
My mother donated part of her liver without hesitation.
Then she spent three straight months caring for him while recovering from surgery herself.
Back then, Wade had wept and swore that she was his savior, that he would treat her like his own mother and repay her kindness forever.
And this was how he repaid her. By helping Brynn kill the woman who had treated him like family.
I couldn't stop imagining those thirty minutes.
My mother lying there, broken and bleeding, watching the man whose life she'd saved with her own liver just stand by and wait for her to die.
How terrified must she have been? How betrayed?
A weight settled on my shoulders.
Wade grabbed me gently, his voice full of fake concern.
"Simone. You still have me."
"Our wedding's only a few days away. Can we please stop fighting?"
He smiled as if offering a generous compromise.
"Here's the thing—let Brynn wear your wedding dress, just for fun. You can wear the bridesmaid dress."
"Don't worry. You're the one I love, the one I'm marrying."
"Brynn's just a tomboy—nobody else wants her. But you, you have me."
The wedding. At the word, memories of my previous life came flooding back.
I clenched my jaw. "Okay."
This time, I'd settle every score—old and new.
Just like before, the wedding day arrived.
As I was resting in the bridal suite in my bridesmaid dress, a masked man suddenly burst in.
A sharp chemical smell hit me.
Then darkness swallowed everything.
The ceremony was about to begin, but the bride was nowhere to be found.
Panic spread through the venue.
Brynn stood there in my wedding dress, looking not the least bit surprised—almost vindicated.
"See? I told you she was petty."
"All this, just because I wore her dress."
"She throws a tantrum and bails, leaving Wade humiliated in front of everyone."
Wade called my phone over and over. No answer.
His face grew darker with every failed attempt.
Finally, he turned to the guests.
"Simone's throwing another fit. She ran off."
"Luckily, Brynn here is willing to step in and save the ceremony."
Brynn couldn't hide her smile.
She slipped my engagement ring onto her finger.
At that exact moment, the ballroom doors flew open.
A group of police officers rushed inside and flashed their badges.
"Brynn Keane, you are under arrest for the kidnapping of Simone Harlow. Come with us."

Chapter 1
The night I got engaged to Ethan Shaw, a ghost showed up out of nowhere.
"No way I'm letting this happen. Dump him. Now."
I acted like I couldn't see her. She floated straight into my face anyway.
"After you two get married, he's going to harvest your kidney for his precious ex, sell off your daughter, drain your parents dry, and leave you dead at the bottom of a building!."
My whole body went rigid. “Am I really that hard to kill? Who even are you?”
She tapped her chin, tilted her head up with a little smirk.
"I'm your mommy!"
"Ellie, listen to Mom. This man is a walking disaster. Don't walk into it. I'll set you up with someone so much better."
But Ethan had saved my life. And with the Shaw family in freefall, a Shaw-Bennett alliance was the only move that made sense.
***
My eyes drifted to Ethan across the room.
"Just trust me, baby... Mom would never hurt you."
The little ghost sat at my side. Another girl sat at Ethan's.
This was our engagement night, and his mouth was practically pressed to her cheek.
Whatever this was, it wasn't nothing.
Lily Baxter was the bar's new bottle girl. Flat broke, perpetually wide-eyed, the kind of girl who collects sympathy like currency.
She'd spilled a drink all over Ethan, soaking the suit I'd had custom-made for him.
She threw herself against his chest to dab at it. “Sir, I’m so sorry. I can pay for dry cleaning, I promise.”
I'd been ready to wave it off.
Ethan gave a cold laugh. “Dry cleaning doesn’t cut it. Write me an IOU. You’re working off every penny.”
And just like that, she was in his orbit.
Every time he came to this bar after that, he made sure she was the one serving him.
He kept her covered, used his name to protect her.
His explanation to me was always the same: “Just helping her pay me back faster. That’s all.”
When he sent me designer bags, his assistant dropped one off for her too.
When a drunk customer got rough with her, Ethan personally went and handled it.
His friends started whispering. Was something going on there?
Ethan laughed it off every time and pulled me closer. “Don’t be ridiculous. She’s just staff. The only woman I’m marrying is Ellie.”
“Ellie! Lily poured that for you. Drink up.”
He flicked a peanut at me and hit me square in the forehead. I caught a glimpse of him and Lily pressed close together.
He cleared his throat. “Are you jealous? I’ll come sit next to you. Happy?”
I took the glass from his hand. The little ghost opened her mouth again.
"See that? You hate drinking and he doesn't even care. He doesn't think about you at all."
Does he?
I looked up and caught Ethan's eye. He was smiling at me, warm and steady, just for me.
“Come on. Cheers.”
The way he looked at me was focused. Real.
And yet the ghost beside me kept saying he felt nothing.
Chapter 2
I drank and said nothing.
The ghost spoke up again, and I looked over. Ethan was back at Lily's side.
He poured me another whiskey, maybe trying to smooth things over.
"He is the worst kind of man. Ellie, your parents — I died because of him. It was horrific."
As she said it, she reached up and pulled off her own head. Blood spread across her face.
It really was horrible.
Something inside me twisted at the sight of her.
Like we'd once been close. Closer than I could explain.
I was about to say something when a sharp cramp hit my lower stomach.
I was on my period, and I'd just drunk a full glass of whiskey, straight up with ice.
The old Ethan used to watch the calendar more carefully than I did during these days.
I barely made it halfway up before my legs gave and I sank back down. I looked for Ethan.
He was letting Lily pour him a drink.
“You’re not sitting next to me, so you’re gonna throw a fit now?”
He looked at me like I was an inconvenience. Like I wasn't doubled over right in front of him.
The ghost yelled:"Ethan Shaw, you absolute idiot! Can't you see she's in pain? Get her to a hospital!"
She leaned in, concerned. "Ellie, are you okay?"
“Cramps,” I managed, through my teeth.
A glass hit the table. The sound finally got his attention.
He crossed the room fast, lifted me up, and carried me out.
Before my eyes closed, I saw the ghost scrambling after us in a panic.
She cared. I could see that.
And I could also see, with total clarity, that Ethan didn't.
In the haze before I passed out, I slipped back three years.
We were grabbed on a road trip together. Kidnapped.
They locked us in a room with one window. He got us out, held me tight the whole time, and when they came at us, he took a knife meant for me.
Just below his ribcage. An inch to the left and he'd have been gone.
Even unconscious, his hand wouldn't let go of my wrist.
Before I could hold onto that memory, the ghost was there.
She peeled his fingers off me, one by one.
"Wake up! Don't you get it — if it weren't for him, you never would've been taken in the first place!"
"Let me show you what's coming."
She grabbed my wrist and yanked.
Everything went black. Then: a hospital corridor. An OR.
Ethan stood outside. The ghost pulled me through the wall.
The woman on the table was me.
“Kidney’s out. Get it to Miss Baxter’s room stat.”
“Leave Miss Bennett’s incision to the residents.”
Chapter 3
Cold sweat broke across my skin. The ghost slapped her hands over my eyes.
"This is what loving Ethan Shaw costs you."
"Ellie. Walk away from him. Please."
I couldn't believe it. I couldn't make sense of it.
Three years ago, when he stepped in front of that knife, the look in his eyes was love. I was sure of it.
My throat burned. Something ached in the center of my chest.
I came back to my body. Ethan was sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing circles on my stomach.
He saw my eyes open and his whole face shifted. Wide, guilty, searching.
“This one’s on me, Ellie. I’m sorry.”
He stayed for hours. He went out and came back with a container of the tomato soup I loved.
I finally told him to go home and get some rest. He left looking back over his shoulder the whole way.
The tenderness in his eyes. We were in love. I knew we were.
The ghost sat at the head of my bed, quiet.
"He's leaving right now to pick Lily up from her shift."
I didn't believe her. I closed my eyes.
She lunged forward and pulled my eyelids open with her small fingers.
She could actually touch me.
"Don't trust me? Fine. Check his Instagram."
I opened the app. Two minutes ago, Lily had posted: “My Mr. Shaw showed up.”
The photo: two hands laced together. The black mole on the back of Ethan's hand. Unmistakable.
"Break up with him. Right now. Before this gets worse."
The ghost paced in furious circles, wanting to drag me to his door that very second.
I put my phone face-down. I didn't want to look at it.
The next day, Ethan was back. Takeout cream of mushroom, soup this time.
He filled a bowl himself and moved to spoon-feed me.
When the bowl was empty, he shifted in his seat and looked at me sideways.
“Ellie... would you be willing to withdraw from the accelerated PhD track?”
My grip tightened around the blanket. I looked straight at him.
That spot was mine. I'd earned it with a gold medal at nationals.
Ethan stalled. Started and stopped.
“If you pull out, Lily moves up as the alternate. You’re a Bennett. You can afford to be generous. Just do this for me.”
“I’m asking you. Please.”
He laced his fingers through mine. His eyes were begging.
She shook her head violently. "Don't you dare. Don't you do it."
He'd never begged me for anything before.
He'd nearly bled out for me once.
He'd driven three hours each way because I mentioned wanting a specific pastry from a bakery out of town.
He used to say all of that was just how love worked, and that I should never feel guilty for accepting it.
Now he was begging. For Lily.
A woman who was supposed to be nothing to us.
Chapter 4
I pressed my lips together.
And I nodded.
He was out the door before I could say another word.
The ghost threw punches and kicks at the empty space where he'd been, then crept back to my bedside.
"Ellie. Break up with him. I'll find you someone who actually deserves you."
I didn't answer. I closed my eyes.
The morning I was supposed to head to campus, Ethan said he'd pick me up.
He didn't show.
I had my driver take me instead. The second I walked through the main gate, Ethan came tearing out of nowhere and hit me across the face.
My cheek lit up with pain. My ears rang.
He grabbed the front of my shirt, jaw tight.
“You said you’d drop the PhD slot. So why did you sick your people on Lily?”
“You know what, Ellie? You’ve changed. You disgust me.”
I tried to get his hands off me, shaking my head.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Lily stepped forward, eyes wet, lip trembling.
“Ellie, are you really not going to own up to what you did? You sent them after me. You know you did.”
Something dark moved through Ethan's face. He shoved me hard to the ground.
Then he carefully wrapped his arms around Lily and walked away.
The ghost was very angry and yelled: "Ellie! He's garbage. Why are you still holding on?"
I...
Five years. We had five years.
And he saved my life. How could loving him be wrong?
Two months ago, Ethan's father made a call that destroyed three percent of the company's market cap overnight.
I went to my dad on my knees and pushed for the engagement.
I won't pretend it was purely selfless. Who doesn't want to end up with the person who saved them?
But before I could get a word out, I caught the ghost's panicked eyes.
Then something went over my head, and the world went black.
I was lifted and dropped onto a couch. Loud room. Thick with the smell of liquor.
“Get her clothes off. Pour it down. Get the camera on her face.”
Strange voices. Ugly laughter. Something cold and wet hit my mouth, slid down my throat.
“Hey — who are you people? Get off me.”
My clothes were being pulled at. I was shaking. Tears running.
“I’ll pay you. My fiancé is Ethan Shaw. He will” —
Nobody cared. Eyes full of contempt.
I curled up on that couch, barely covered, completely hollowed out.
“Let’s have some real fun...”
The door flew open.
Ethan shrugged off his jacket and laid it over me, then crouched down and wiped my face.
“You scared?”
His voice was calm. His eyes were calm.
He was almost smiling. “That’s exactly how scared Lily was. Touch her again, and I’ll make sure it comes back to you ten times over.”
The men had already cleared out. But Ethan's tone said everything.
He set this up.
He untied the rope from my wrists.
“Be good. In the future” —
I kicked him as hard as I could. Right between the legs.
He went down with no warning, gasping.
“Ellie” —
I looked at him on the floor.
Then I walked out.
Rot in hell.

"Sixty minutes, Elora." Maya, my wedding coordinator, tapped her silver pen against her clipboard. "Are you ready to become Mrs. Thorne?"

"I've been ready for two years," I said. My fingers brushed the delicate white buds of the baby's breath bouquet. I had specifically asked the florist to wrap them around a few hidden white roses, thorns intact.

"Your dress looks flawless," Maya added. She crouched down, adjusting the heavy silk train of my gown. "Where is your sister? She’s supposed to be helping you with the veil."

"Selene said she needed to fix her makeup."

"Well, find her. I need you both in the staging area in ten minutes."

"Did you confirm the string quartet?" I asked.

"Yes, they are setting up in the garden right now," Maya replied. "Are you absolutely sure about the vanilla frosting on the cake? Kael mentioned he preferred dark chocolate. He called me twice this morning about it."

"I compromised on the venue," I said. "He can compromise on the cake. Besides, vanilla is classic. It's what we agreed on months ago."

"Fair enough. Call Selene. She has the rings, and the photographer wants group shots in the conservatory before the guests arrive."

Maya hurried down the corridor. I pulled my phone from the small bridal clutch on the table and dialed my sister’s number.

It rang twice. Then went to voicemail.

I adjusted my grip on the floral arrangement and walked toward the bridal lounge. The thick carpet absorbed the sound of my steps. The hallway smelled of fresh lilies and expensive wax.

I reached for the brass handle of the lounge door. It sat slightly ajar. A sliver of golden light spilled onto the hallway floor.

A faint, muffled ringtone drifted through the gap. Selene’s phone.

Before I could push the door open, a voice followed the electronic melody.

"Your phone is ringing." Kael's voice was low, rougher than the gentle tone he used with me.

My hand froze in the air.

"Ignore it," Selene answered. A soft thud echoed off the walls. "It's probably just my sister freaking out over a misplaced napkin."

"You should answer it."

"Why? So I can listen to her whine about her perfect day? I'm busy."

"Selene..."

"Are you annoyed, Kael? Does it bother you that she's out there playing the blushing bride while you're in here looking at me like you want to devour me?"

"You talk too much."

"And you think too much. Look at me."

My stomach twisted. The hallway suddenly felt entirely devoid of oxygen. I pressed my fingertips against the cool wood of the door.

"You don't have to do this, Kael," Selene said, her tone shifting to a mocking whisper. "You can still run."

"Don't start, Sel."

"I'm just saying. Look at this wedding. It's a joke. She's so... predictable. A baby's breath bouquet? A pure white dress? She's vanilla, Kael. You hate vanilla."

"Shut up," he muttered.

"Make me."

A sharp scrape of wood against the floorboards followed.

"Are you going to pretend you don't want this?" Selene asked. "Even now? One hour before you sign your life away to a woman who schedules her intimacy on a calendar?"

"I'm marrying your sister."

"That's a fact, not a defense."

"Selene, stop."

"You're the one holding my hips, Kael. If you really wanted me to stop, you'd drop your hands."

"You drive me insane."

"I keep you alive. She bores you to death. Tell me I'm wrong."

I pushed the door inward. Just an inch.

"Tell me to leave," Selene whispered. "Say the word, and I'll walk out of this room. I'll go stand next to her at the altar and smile."

"You know I won't do that," Kael replied.

"Then prove it."

Through the narrow opening, the mirror above the vanity reflected the entire room. Kael had Selene pinned against the edge of the makeup table. His hands gripped her waist, his knuckles white against her dark purple bridesmaid dress.

"You're ruined," he growled.

He slammed his mouth down on hers.

Selene laughed against his lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Her fingers tangled in the dark hair I had lovingly trimmed just three days ago.

My gaze dropped to the floor.

My backup wedding dress—the reception gown I had hung so carefully on the wardrobe door—lay in a crumpled heap on the floorboards. Selene's silver stiletto dug directly into the pure white silk. She ground her heel into the delicate fabric as she kissed my fiancé.

"Kael," she moaned into his mouth.

"Quiet," he ordered. He kissed her harder, his hands moving up her sides. "Someone will hear."

"Let them."

I couldn't scream. My throat locked tight. Instead of a sob, a hollow, empty silence swallowed me whole. A bizarre sense of calm washed over my burning eyes.

I took a step backward.

*Crunch.*

My thin-soled shoe came down on something hard. A dropped champagne flute, abandoned in the hallway, shattered under my weight.

Jagged glass sliced through the satin fabric of my heel. The shards drove deep into my skin.

I didn't flinch. A high-pitched ringing erupted in my ears, drowning out the physical agony. The sound masked the sting in my foot. The world tilted, spinning on an axis of pure betrayal.

My fist closed tighter around my bouquet. The hidden rose thorns pierced through the floral tape. They dug into my palm, snapping under the sheer force of my grip.

Warm liquid pooled in the center of my hand.

"More," Selene begged from inside the room.

I squeezed the stems until the wood cracked. Blood slid down the lifelines of my palm. A single crimson drop fell.

It hit the pure white hallway carpet with a muted splash.

Then another.

And another.

The ringing in my head grew deafening. The scent of vanilla frosting from the kitchens below suddenly made me nauseous.

Inside the lounge, Kael suddenly tore his mouth away from Selene's. His head snapped toward the door.

"What was that?" he demanded. His chest heaved rapidly.

"Nothing," Selene pouted. She reached for his collar, trying to pull him back. "Just ignore it."

Kael shoved her backward. Her spine hit the vanity mirror with a loud crack.

"I said, what was that?"

He took a wide step toward the door. His dark eyes locked onto the narrow opening. He didn't see my face. I stood perfectly still, hidden in the shadows of the corridor.

But Kael's gaze didn't search for a face. His eyes tracked downward.

They fixed instantly on the bright, fresh droplets of blood staining the white carpet just outside the threshold.

Ethan’s 999 ‘I like you’ messages: Bet, Betrayal, and Breakup

Idk the actual title, it’s so hard to find 😭

Does anybody have a link to this story?

Is it just me or is it harder to find stories because they don’t post the actual titles?? lol

Does anyone have a link for this one? Tyia

Does anybody have a link for this short story? Tyia