The Vance family didn't want me. They wanted the land parcel near Kaitak Airfield that my father controlled.

It was the last prime parcel in Harbor Bay. Whoever secured it would dominate the city's real-estate landscape for the next decade.

My father, Dudley Henson, was chairman of Henson Architecture on paper. In reality, he was the biggest land broker in the entire Harbor Bay property circle.

The land he'd stockpiled was enough to bring any developer in the city to their knees.

That was why Otis Vance had been willing to marry me.

Not because he loved me. Because of my father's land.

In my previous life, I didn't understand that until the moment I died.

"You're too kind, Aunt Valerie."

I dipped my head slightly, respectful but not subservient.

"Marrying Otis is the real blessing."

A flicker of satisfaction passed through Valerie's eyes.

Otis appeared at my side without my noticing. His long fingers settled lightly on my waist.

His body heat seeped through the thin fabric of my gown, and every muscle in my body went rigid.

In my previous life, those hands had held me when I was at my most vulnerable, gripped mine through labor, spooned porridge into my mouth at my hospital bed.

Those same hands had placed the swapped medication between my lips.

"You look beautiful tonight, Marina."

His voice was low and warm, threaded with a resonance like a cello's deepest note.

I lifted my gaze to meet his. Dark, fathomless eyes.

Otis Vance was thirty-two years old, the youngest billionaire in Harbor Bay.

Sharp bone structure, a brow ridge cut like a blade.

When his thin lips pressed together, he looked coolly untouchable; when he smiled, he was as gentle as a spring breeze.

That face had fooled all of Harbor Bay.

It had fooled me for a lifetime.

"Thank you." I smiled, then shifted half a step to the side, easing away from his hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

This time around, I could see straight through the act.

Otis's hand hovered in midair. A brief, arrested pause.

He glanced at me, a trace of confusion surfacing in his gaze before he could smooth it away.

In my previous life, at events like these, I would have been pressed against him, unwilling to leave even an inch of space. The idea of me pulling away would have been unthinkable.

"What's wrong?"

His voice dropped low.

"Nothing. Just a little warm."

I tossed the words out carelessly and turned toward the balcony.

The Peninsula Hotel's balcony faced Victoria Harbor.

I drew in a deep breath and let the evening breeze cool the flush on my skin.

Footsteps behind me.

I didn't turn around. I already knew who it was.

"Marina."

Otis came to stand beside me and held out a glass of ice water. "Something on your mind lately?"

I took the glass but didn't drink.

"No. The wedding's getting close. Probably just nerves."

"Nervous about what? You have me."

He said it with absolute certainty, as though stating a fact no one could dispute.

In my previous life, that single sentence had moved me to tears.

Now all I wanted to do was laugh.

"Otis, I have a question."

I turned around, leaned back against the railing, and tipped my face up to look at him.

Moonlight traced every line of his profile in sharp relief.

"Go ahead."

"If one day Carissa and I were both in danger, who would you save first?"

His expression locked for a fraction of a second.

A fraction so small most people would have missed it. I didn't.

"Where's this coming from?"

He laughed and ruffled my hair, the gesture so practiced it might as well have been rehearsed a thousand times.

"Just curious."

I tilted my head and gave him my most innocent smile.

He was quiet for two seconds. Then: "You, of course."

I smiled.

What a load of garbage.

In my past life, Carissa and I had been kidnapped together.

While I lay in a pool of my own blood, he'd gone to Carissa first, made sure she was okay, and only then came to hold me.

He thought I'd lost consciousness. What he didn't realize was that I'd seen every last second of it.

"Good to know."

I rose onto my toes and pressed a light kiss to his cheek. "I'm going to run to the restroom."

The instant I turned, I caught a reflection in the balcony's glass door: Carissa, standing just behind it, wineglass clenched in her hand, knuckles white.

She was listening.

And I had put on that little show on purpose.

The closeness with Otis made my stomach turn on instinct, but if it could make the two of them just as sick, it was worth it.

I let my lips curl upward and walked toward the restroom in my four-inch heels, every step sure and steady.

This time around, I was the hunter.

In front of the restroom mirror, I studied the face staring back at me.

Twenty-four. The best years of my life, still ahead.

My features weren't the kind that stopped traffic, but they were clean, striking in their own way.

A sharpness around the brows and eyes that Carissa's delicate, doe-eyed look could never match.

In my past life, I'd convinced myself I wasn't pretty enough, wasn't soft enough, wasn't likable enough, so I bent over backward for everyone, gave until there was nothing left to give.

And where did that get me?

I was the first one to die.

I fished my phone out of my clutch and scrolled to a number I hadn't dialed in a long time.

"Hello? Colin Dickerson? It's Marina."

An older voice came through, startled and warm with recognition.

"Marina? Miss Henson? What made you think of old Colin after all this time?"

Colin had been my mother's personal driver and was now the best private investigator in all of Harbor Bay.

After my mother passed, Layla had pushed him out of the Henson household. These days he ran a small detective agency to make ends meet.

"Colin, I need you to look into a few people for me."

"Name them, Miss Henson."

"First, I need everything you can find on the relationship between Otis Vance and Carissa Henson. Every detail."

"Second, I want all of the Vance Group's overseas transaction records for the past five years."

"And last..."

I paused, lowering my voice.

"Look into my father's accounts."

Silence on the other end. A few long seconds.

"Miss Henson, are you saying you want to..."

"Colin. Just tell me whether you can do it."

"I can."

His voice hardened with sudden resolve. "Your mother was the kindest person I ever knew. Now that she's gone, these old bones of mine ought to do right by her daughter."

I hung up and turned back to the mirror to touch up my lipstick.

True red.

In my past life I'd worn dusty rose, soft and harmless.

Not anymore. I wanted to be sharp, wanted to be unmistakable, wanted every last person to see that Marina Henson was no one's pushover.

By the time I stepped out of the restroom, the banquet was winding down.

Guests were drifting toward the exits in twos and threes. My father, Dudley, was flushed from drinking, laughing loudly with a cluster of old associates.

Layla Fox walked over and looped her arm through mine with practiced warmth.

"Marina, you did wonderfully tonight. Mrs. Lyons was very pleased with you."

Her perfume, some new Cartier release, was so heavy it almost made me sneeze.

In my past life, I'd thought that was how elegance smelled.

Now all I could smell was the fakeness underneath.

"Thank you, Aunt Layla."

I gave her a small smile.

"By the way, where's Carissa? I just saw her on the balcony a moment ago, and now she's vanished."

Something flickered across Layla's face, quick and uneasy.

"She wasn't feeling well. She left early."

"Not feeling well?" I arranged my expression into one of concern. "Is it serious? Maybe I should go check on her."

"No, no, that's fine."

Layla waved her hands quickly. "She said she wants some time alone. Don't bother her."

I nodded, though inside I was laughing.

Whenever Carissa wasn't "feeling well," she was usually off seeing Otis.

In my past life, I'd been gullible enough to believe it. I even had someone send a bowl of bird's nest porridge to her room.

Looking back, she probably dumped that porridge straight down the toilet.

After the banquet, the driver took me back to the Henson Estate in Crescent Bay.

As the car passed through the Harbor Bay tunnel, my phone buzzed.

A message from Colin.

"Miss Henson, I've got a lead on the first thing you asked me to look into."

"Otis Vance and Carissa Henson have been in contact since three years ago. You and he had only just met."

I stared at the message. My fingers tightened around the phone.

Three years ago.

Back when I was still in London finishing my master's.

Otis had reached out to me through my father's connections, saying he wanted to discuss a joint project.

I thought he genuinely valued my talent.

Turns out the whole thing was a setup from the very beginning.

I was the prey. He was the hunter.

And Carissa was the one who helped him lay the trap.

The car pulled up to the estate gates. I stepped out and noticed the living room lights were still on.

Carissa was sitting on the sofa, cradling a mug of warm milk, the TV tuned to a late-night financial broadcast.

The moment she saw me walk in, a sweet smile spread across her face.

"You're back! How was the banquet?"

"Fine."

I kicked off my heels and sat down across from her.

"Marina, there's something I want to tell you."

She set her mug down, her expression turning serious.

"Go ahead."

"I… I think I've fallen for someone."

Something flickered inside me, but my face gave nothing away.

"Who?"

Carissa bit her lip, as if she were wrestling with some monumental decision.

"It's… it's Otis."

When she said his name, her eyes were bright and glassy, tinged with a girl's shyness and longing.

She'd confessed the same way in my past life.

Back then, I thought she was being brave and honest. I was stupid enough to comfort her, telling her there was nothing wrong with having feelings for someone.

And then she showed up at my wedding in a white gown, standing at Otis's side.

"Carissa." I looked at her, my voice terrifyingly calm. "You do know he's my fiancé, right?"

"I know."

Her eyes rimmed red, her voice cracking with the first tremor of tears.

"That's exactly why I feel so terrible."

"But feelings aren't something you can control. I've been suffering too…"

She broke down mid-sentence, shoulders hitching, tears spilling like rain on pear blossoms. The picture of delicate, pitiful beauty.

In my past life, those tears had softened me completely. I even wiped them away for her.

Now I felt nothing. I simply sat there and watched her perform.

"Carissa, are you sure it's him you like, or is it his money?"

Her sobbing hitched.

"How can you say that?"

She lifted her head, eyes raw and red. "You really think I'm that kind of person?"

Of course you are.

I answered her silently, a cold laugh trapped behind my teeth.

"Just asking."

I stood up. "It's late. Get some sleep. We have the wedding dress fitting tomorrow."

"Marina…" Carissa stopped me. "You won't tell Mom and Dad, will you?"

I glanced back at her.

Tears still clung to her cheeks, but her eyes were perfectly, unnervingly clear.

"Don't worry. I won't."

I turned and headed upstairs, the faintest trace of an ice-cold smile curving my lips.