For ten years, Julian Blackwood hated me. All because his first love, Chloe Davenport, lost her company.

I spent that decade trying to please him, and all I ever got in return was his cold indifference.

"If you really want to make me happy," he’d said, his voice laced with contempt, "then get out of my sight."

His words were shards of ice in my heart. But when our helicopter engine failed and the fuselage ripped apart in mid-air, he gave me the only parachute and fell with the wreckage.

He lay in my arms, his life fading with every breath. I reached for his face, and he used the last of his strength to speak into the radio.

"Genevieve Reed, if I had chosen Chloe back then… would everything have been different?" he whispered.

At the funeral, his mother, Eleanor, cried so hard she couldn't stand.

"It's all my fault," she sobbed, her body wracked with grief. "I never should have forced him to marry you for the company. If I had just let him be with Chloe, would this still have happened?"

His father, Richard, looked at me with undisguised hatred. "Julian saved you three times, and you brought him nothing but disaster. Why are you the one who's alive, not him?"

Everyone wished Julian had never married me.

So did I.

In the end, I leaped from the top of the Blackwood Tower and returned to ten years ago.

This time, I would sever the ties between us. I would give them all the ending they wanted.

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1

"Genevieve Reed, you've got some nerve." The deep, cold voice sliced through the air, sharp as a winter wind in Manhattan. "You had your parents force my hand with a business alliance. Did you really think marrying into the Blackwood family would make you happy?"

I groggily opened my eyes to find myself face-to-face with Julian Blackwood.

He stood before me in a finely tailored black suit that accentuated his tall, powerful physique. His features were sharp and untamed, his eyes holding a primal fierceness. Everything about him was different from the somber man he would become in ten years.

This was the twenty-year-old Julian Blackwood.

It seemed I had truly returned.

I suppressed the sharp pain in my chest, my eyes greedily drinking in every detail of his face.

"You don't want to marry me," I began, my voice surprisingly steady. "Because the person you want to save is Chloe Davenport. Right?"

He scoffed. "And what if I do? What are you going to do about it? Let us be together?"

"I can," I said.

When my parents, founding partners of the Blackwood Group, died in a plane crash, they left me a key stake with veto power, enough to influence any major decision the board made. It also meant I could easily push through an acquisition to save a company teetering on the brink of bankruptcy.

Julian froze. Then, his lips twisted into a smirk, as if I had just told the world's worst joke. "You're using that damned stake of yours, and my parents are pushing me. This marriage is a done deal."

His gaze raked over me, his disdain as sharp as a blade.

"And now you're going to 'let us be together'? How, exactly? Gen, I don't have time for your mind games." He gestured toward the ballroom with his chin. "Go on in and announce our engagement yourself. I'll wait here for you to finish your little performance."

He turned, leaning against the hallway wall, his posture lazy yet oppressive. The disgust in his eyes was a physical blow, sending a sharp pain through my chest.

Through my past life and into this one, I had loved Julian for what felt like an eternity.

He had risked his life to save me three times. I mistook that reckless protection for love, foolishly believing that he must care for me. I had eagerly accepted Richard and Eleanor's arrangement and married him.

It wasn't until Chloe's company went bankrupt that I finally understood his heart had belonged to someone else all along.

My ten years of love had become his ten-year shackles.

In that life, I had tried everything. I donated my assets, dedicated myself to charity, wore myself to a shadow—all to beg fate for another chance. In the end, I traded everything to give Julian a chance at a new life.

Before this, a voice had echoed in my mind: Resolve his three deepest regrets within twelve hours of your return. Once the task is complete, you must leave him immediately.

From that moment on, you will go your separate ways. He will no longer die at thirty because of you. You will live separate lives.

But there is always a price for returning to the past. Think carefully, madam.

As long as Julian could live, I feared no price. So, I went to Arthur Sterling, a veteran of the group, and used my stake to force through the acquisition of Chloe's company.

I knew his three regrets, which he'd written in a private journal.

Regretting marrying Genevieve Reed. Regretting not resisting the family's arrangement. Regretting not being able to save Chloe.

Now, the first regret was resolved. Wasn't it?

I walked out of the conference room with the signed documents and went straight to him.

Julian's gaze was fixed on me, as if watching a victor savoring her prize. His hand reached for the document, ready to open it.

I pressed my palm over his, stopping him, a soft, teasing smile playing on my lips.

"Tomorrow," I said. "Watch the news tomorrow. You're in for a surprise."

He shot me a sideways glance, impatience flashing across his face. "What's the difference? The result is the same. I still have to marry you."

He squinted, studying me as if I were a strange new species. "You're acting odd today. What, so happy you're finally marrying me that you've lost your mind?"

Of course, I was happy. I was seeing a living, breathing Julian again.

I smiled. "I think you're the greatest man in the world. Any woman who marries you would be the luckiest on earth."

Julian grunted softly and turned away. "Go back to your apartment."

He strode off without a backward glance. If I didn't already know how much he detested me, I might have thought he was just shy.

The Lincoln Town Car headed back toward the apartment. As we passed Times Square, I opened the partition to the driver's cabin.

The car's television was tuned to the financial news, the anchor's voice booming with excitement.

"Tonight's bombshell on Wall Street! The Blackwood Group has unexpectedly announced its acquisition of the up-and-coming fashion brand 'Davenport'! Sources say a mysterious major shareholder of the Blackwood Group personally approved the deal, ensuring its success. A once-in-a-century masterstroke!"

Those words eased a tightness in my chest. I had seen a similar scene in my past life. Back then, I had clutched Julian's sleeve, eyes shining with hope, begging him to go to a charity gala with me.

A mocking smile had curved his lips. "Isn't trapping me for a lifetime enough for you? Now you want to parade me around for everyone to see? All this charity nonsense is such a pathetic charade. If you want to put on a show, do it alone. Don't drag me into it."

His cold gaze, even now, sent a shiver down my spine.

I closed the partition.

Just then, Julian spoke, his tone flat. "Where do you want to go? I'll go with you tonight. After we're married, I won't have time to visit your parents' grave. Consider it compensation."

I looked up at him, surprised. The offer was unexpected, yet it wasn't. Julian had always been like this—his words were knives, but his heart was softer than anyone's.

He didn't love me, yet he had still risked his life for me three times.

The first time, we were kidnapped overseas. He took a dagger wound to the wrist for me. From that day on, his once-steady hand, a hand that could command a boardroom with precision, could no longer handle strenuous activity.

The second time, I contracted a rare disease and hovered on the brink of death. He broke into a quarantined zone to find a special medicine for me, nearly getting infected himself and ending up in isolation for half a month.

The third time, he died saving me in a helicopter crash.

Julian was perfect in every way; he just didn't love me.

I knew that after today, there would be nothing between us. No matter how many events we attended together, no amount of media spin could ever make us a real couple.

Despite this, I suppressed the sting in my eyes and managed an effortless smile.

"Okay," I said. "Let's go together."

Halfway there, the car stopped. Chloe's call came through. She said her company was saved, she was throwing a party, and she had to see Julian.

He frowned instantly and, without hesitation, told the driver to pull over.

"Something's come up with Chloe. I have to go check on her," he said. "You head back to the apartment. I'll call you later."

I nodded. "Okay."

He paused, clearly surprised. "You've always hated it when I see her. Why the sudden change of heart?"

I opened my mouth to answer.

Before I could speak, he scoffed. "Never mind. We're getting married soon. She's no longer a threat to your position."

He left without another glance, not seeing the disappointment and bitter smile I couldn't quite hide. The truth was, I had never tried to stop his favoritism toward Chloe.

There was only one exception. When I heard a rumor that Chloe was involved with a married investor to secure funding, I investigated and found it to be true. That was the only time I desperately tried to keep Julian away from her.

He never knew. After her company went bankrupt, he mourned for ten long years.

If I had to choose, I would rather he be with Chloe than endure that torment and die for me.

I finalized the arrangements for my finances, my new identity, and my move to Colorado before returning to the Blackwood Manor.

My adoptive mother, Eleanor Blackwood, had personally prepared dinner, the table laden with my favorite dishes.

I took off my cashmere shawl, draping it over her shoulders as I always did. "It's cold. Wear this."

She beamed at me. "You're always so considerate. Come, tell me how the wedding plans with Julian are coming along. I've waited so long for you to finally call me Mom."

My adoptive father, Richard Blackwood, glanced behind me. Seeing no one, his face soured.

"That boy didn't come back with you again?" he said sharply. "The wedding is just around the corner, and he still doesn't know how to cherish you. When he gets back, I'm giving him a piece of my mind."

The genuine concern from Richard and Eleanor was a dull ache in my heart.

After my parents died, I was alone. They adopted me. They gave me a home, a family, everything.

I had always been obedient. But this time, I had to defy them.

I looked at them and said seriously, "Dad, Mom. I'm not going to marry Julian. Tomorrow, I'm leaving for Aspen Creek. I won't be able to stay by your side anymore. Please take care of yourselves."

Eleanor froze, panic flickering in her eyes. "Your parents gave their lives for the Group, and you grew up here. This is your home. If you leave, where will you go?"

Her voice grew sharp with worry. "Did Julian bully you because of that Davenport girl? Is that why you won't marry him?"

"Don't be silly. He cares for you deeply; otherwise, why would he have risked his life to save you twice?"

"Every year on your birthday, he spends months searching the globe for a unique gift. I know you love him, too. You learned to cook for him, you massage his wrist every day to ease his old injury. If you two get married, you'll be happy. You really will."

"Besides, that Davenport girl is no good. We can't let her win. You can't just leave in a huff."

In my past life, they had said the exact same things. In the end, I lost my husband, and they lost their son. Everyone was consumed by regret.

I gently wiped the tears from Eleanor's eyes. "Mom, you can't force love. It won't bring happiness. Julian loves someone else, and I can't be the one to force him into a marriage he doesn't want."

I continued, "I had a panic attack last night. I dreamed that he and I were married, but he wouldn't see me. He worked himself to the bone, destroying his health, and came home covered in injuries. He wouldn't touch the food I made. When he was sick, he wouldn't let me near him. He said the pain I caused him was far greater than any happiness."

My voice choked, my chest so tight I could barely breathe. "In the dream, he even died in a plane crash at thirty, just to save me."

Eleanor stared at me, shocked. "That… that's just a nightmare, my child. Julian wouldn't…"

I sniffled and forced a faint smile. "Nightmares can be warnings, too. Dad, Mom, he doesn't have to marry me. We don't have to be husband and wife. I just want him to be safe and sound, to live a long, full life."

"He may be a born winner, but so many things are out of his control. His marriage, at least, should be his own choice."

I bowed my head and gave them a deep, respectful bow.

"I've already handled all the arrangements for my move to Colorado. I'm asking for your blessing. I will never forget your kindness in raising me."

Richard pressed his lips together and helped me up. Eleanor dried her tears and pressed an anonymous black card into my hand. "If this is what you've truly decided, then I respect it. Remember, no matter what happens, this will always be your home."

Tears streamed down my face. I wrapped my arms around her. "Thank you, Mom."

As long as I cut all ties with Julian, the tragedy of my past life wouldn't repeat. He would live a long life, and Richard and Eleanor would never know that despair, would never hate me.

In this life, everyone would have a happy ending.

The second regret from his journal—regretting not resisting the family's arrangement—that should be resolved now, too. Right?

I still had one last regret to fulfill. Would it all go smoothly?

That night, I returned to my penthouse apartment. The apartment was a museum of our shared childhood, every object a monument to a love I could never have.

"Genevieve."

A familiar voice.

Joy flooded my heart instinctively. I spun around, only to meet Julian's dark, furious gaze.

He grabbed my wrist, his fingers digging into my skin like iron clamps. The corners of his eyes were red with suppressed rage.

"You know I despise it when people go crying behind my back," he said coldly. "Just because I didn't come home with you, you went crying to my parents and had them go after Chloe."

His grip tightened. "She was targeted by a business rival. Someone poisoned her, and now she's in the hospital. Are you satisfied now?"

A sharp pain shot up my arm. It felt as if my wrist might snap, and I felt the blood drain from my face.