“I’m done pursuing you, Vivienne. I won’t come looking for you anymore. I hope you and Maximilian spend the rest of your lives together.”

The words crushed my chest until breathing felt impossible. My sight swam, white at the edges, and I had to blink hard just to stay standing.

That was when I noticed them.

Camellias.

Thousands upon thousands of deep red petals carpeted the ground, vivid and violent against the chill of the marble floor, like embers scattered after a fire.

Sebastian Hawthorne stood at the center of it all, a small velvet box open in his hand, a diamond catching the light. His tailored suit framed his broad shoulders and narrow hips perfectly—every line of him sharp, controlled, undeniably powerful.

But it was his eyes that undid me.

Those dark eyes that always burned with intensity weren’t filled with anger or pride anymore. They reflected me. A younger me. Twenty-five years old. A foolish girl who never understood how deeply this man loved her.

My heart folded in on itself.

I was back.

Given another life. Returned to the very day I had destroyed everything by pushing him away with my own hands.

“Farewell, Vivienne.” He snapped the ring box shut and turned, ready to walk out of my life.

“No—wait. Sebastian, please don’t.” My body reacted before my thoughts caught up. I rushed forward, wrapping my arms around his waist from behind, my cheek pressing into the solid warmth of his back.

He went rigid. For the briefest moment, I thought he might lean into me. Instead, his hands reached down and carefully but firmly pulled mine away.

“Vivienne,” he said quietly, his tone edged with restraint, “you already chose. You chose Maximilian Hartman. So why are you clinging to me now?”

Maximilian Hartman.

The name tore through me, dragging the memories of my last life back into my lungs like choking smoke.

I remembered everything.

My mother’s death. My father bringing his mistress into our home, along with her flawless daughter. How that house shrank around me, how I slowly learned to make myself smaller just to survive.

I remembered wanting out. Desperately.

Maximilian—the shining star of New York’s elite. Polished, adored, born into privilege.

Sebastian—the boy with nothing, who clawed his way up and forged himself into someone untouchable.

And me—greedy, naïve, convinced I needed security more than sincerity.

I chose Maximilian.

I thought I had won. Thought I was building something solid. And for a while, it seemed true. With my help, Maximilian’s empire expanded at an unbelievable rate. At our glamorous anniversary gala, he vowed the company shares would eventually be mine.

But on the very day he planned to transfer them, his beloved woman appeared on the rooftop above the crowd.

Before anyone could react—before security could reach her—she stepped forward and plunged down.

She landed right in front of us.

The sound of her body hitting the ground split the world apart.

That death destroyed everything.

Maximilian unraveled. He pointed at me. Screamed murder. Had me dragged away like trash and locked in a filthy cell.

And before that cell swallowed me whole, before I died cold and alone, he finally told me the truth.

Sebastian had tried to save me.

He had offered every cent, every asset, everything he owned—just to set me free.

I never knew.

Not until the very end.

Now, with my face pressed against Sebastian’s back and my fingers twisted in his shirt, I understood one absolute truth.

I could not let him walk away again.

In my first life, I had never been truly loved. My father abandoned me. My stepmother and her perfect daughter made it clear I didn’t belong. Maximilian treated me like a piece on his board, flaunting his mistresses without shame. I endured it all in silence. I never cried.

Until I found Sebastian’s note.

Just one sentence, written in his precise, unwavering hand:

“I regret that I failed to protect my Vivienne.”

I shattered.

And even then, Maximilian didn’t release me.

I died trapped like an animal—my death labeled an “accident” in prison, my eyes still open, still searching for the man I should have chosen.

The final thought before everything went dark carved itself into my soul: if I were ever given another chance, I would never let Sebastian go again.

And now… I had that chance.

I swallowed the pain and forced the words out. “Sebastian, I made a terrible mistake. I mistook worthless glitter for something real. I don’t want him. I want you. Just you.”

For a split second, something wavered in his eyes—but it disappeared just as quickly. His expression hardened.

“Vivienne,” he said flatly, “don’t toy with me. I won’t be fooled a second time.”

Fear surged through me. I opened my mouth to explain, to plead—but then—

“Vivienne! What do you think you’re doing?!”

The shout ripped through the air.

I spun around as the door of a sleek black car slammed open. Maximilian stepped out, fury blazing in his eyes like he might burn the entire street down.

The once-beloved prince of New York’s high society. The man I had elevated with my own hands. The same man who betrayed me and sent me to die.

“You promised me yesterday you wouldn’t marry anyone else,” he snapped, his mouth twisting with contempt. “And now you’re throwing yourself at him? So what was I—just something to pass the time?”

I looked at him calmly, feeling nothing at all. The man I once bent over backward to please suddenly looked small. Laughable.

Before I could stop myself, my hand swung.

The sound of the slap echoed sharply. Everything went silent.

Maximilian reeled, one hand flying to his face. “Vivienne! Have you lost your mind? You think you can hit me?”

I glanced at my palm. The sting made me smile faintly. That small pain grounded me.

I was alive.

I was back.

Without sparing Maximilian another glance, I turned to Sebastian. The ring box was still in his hand. I didn’t wait for him to kneel or ask again. I took the ring myself, slipped it onto my finger, and lifted my chin to meet his shocked gaze.

“Sebastian, I want to be your wife. If you’re willing, come to my family tomorrow and formally ask for my hand.”

He stood frozen—then slowly, the tension in him broke. “Vivienne… of course I—”

“Of course you what?” Maximilian cut in, laughing coldly.

He pulled out his phone and tapped the screen.

Moans filled the air. Ragged breaths. The rhythmic creak of a bed under movement.

My blood turned to ice.

Maximilian’s smile was pure malice. “Hawthorne, let me spare you the humiliation. Last night, in the presidential suite, she and I went at it until the bed nearly collapsed. You really want a woman who’s already been used?”

The roar in my ears drowned everything else. My hands trembled uncontrollably.

On the screen… was me.

Tangling in sheets with Maximilian.

But it wasn’t me.

I knew it. I had never let him touch me like that. Not in this life. Not in the one before.

And in that instant, realization slammed into me.

Maximilian wasn’t just vicious.

He had come back too.

“Maximilian, do you honestly think some cheap AI face-swap trick can destroy me?” I snapped, forcing my voice to stay steady. “That footage is fake. We weren’t even together last night. If you’re so confident, then bring out real evidence.”

His mouth slowly curled into that familiar, vicious smile—the one that had haunted me even in death. “Evidence?” he scoffed softly. “Stop pretending you don’t know, Vivienne. There’s a flame-shaped birthmark on your thigh, hidden high enough that you thought no one would ever see it. I’ve traced it with my fingers before. I remember it perfectly… every flicker of that fire.”

“Enough!” The word tore out of me as my body shook uncontrollably. Rage surged through my veins, then froze into something sharp and deadly.

There was no room for denial anymore.

He remembered.

No one else could possibly know that mark. No one—except Maximilian from my previous life.

But this life wasn’t the same.

This time, I was still untouched. Still the legitimate daughter of the DeLacroix family, my reputation pristine among New York’s elite. If his words spread unchecked, everything I had rebuilt would crumble in an instant.

Maximilian’s attention shifted lazily toward Sebastian. “So, Mr. Hawthorne,” he said with smug amusement, “you understand now, don’t you? When Vivienne and I finally marry, I expect you to attend. At least have the courtesy to raise a glass for us.”

I turned toward Sebastian immediately, my heart pounding, ready to argue, to explain, to tear Maximilian’s lies apart piece by piece. I believed—no, I begged fate—that Sebastian wouldn’t fall for this poison.

Then I saw his expression.

His face had drained of color. His eyes were bloodshot, fixed on that cursed screen as if it had hollowed him out from the inside.

“I see,” he said quietly. “I wish you both… a lifetime together.” His Adam’s apple moved as if each word scraped his throat raw. “Please excuse me. I have matters to attend to.”

Before I could even react, he gently took my hand, slid the diamond ring from my finger, and returned it to its velvet prison.

And then he turned away.

Watching his back retreat felt like someone had split my chest open and left me bleeding in the open air.

“Sebastian!” I tried to chase after him, but Maximilian’s grip locked around my wrist like iron. He yanked me toward his car and shoved me inside before I could even draw breath, slamming the door shut and sealing me in.

“Stop embarrassing yourself chasing him,” Maximilian snarled. “In this life, you belong to me. You’ll marry me—whether you like it or not.”

“Marry you?” I laughed bitterly. “What about the woman you claim you love so deeply? The one you’d supposedly give the entire world to?”

He leaned closer, his voice dropping into something vile. “Relax. After you’re gone—after the poor DeLacroix heiress dies young and tragically—I’ll marry her in the grandest wedding New York has ever witnessed. She’ll inherit everything. But you, Vivienne…” his whisper turned sharp, “…you’re mine while you breathe, and you’ll still be mine when you’re dead. Don’t even think about running to Hawthorne—or anyone else. I won’t let you escape. Ever.”

The next moment, he shoved me out of the car like discarded trash.

The Maybach roared off, disappearing down the street, leaving behind nothing but exhaust fumes and a heavy, ringing silence.

I lay sprawled on the pavement, breath uneven, the cold seeping into my hands and knees.

Slowly, I pushed myself upright, brushed the dirt from my clothes, and forced my breathing to steady.

It’s fine.

I’ve already died once. What’s left to be afraid of?

If Maximilian thinks he can trap me again, he’s gravely mistaken. I would rather shatter myself completely than ever wear his ring.

---

That night, Father summoned me to his study.

Fatima—his mistress—was already seated there, composed and graceful as ever. Camille sat beside her, eyes sharp and hostile, as though she might lunge at me at any moment.

Fatima smiled gently, adopting her familiar, soothing tone. “Vivienne, you’ve reached the proper age to think about marriage. Maximilian appears sincere, and his family holds considerable power. Don’t you think it’s time you seriously considered settling down?”

I nearly laughed aloud.

In my previous life, this same woman and her daughter had done everything possible to sabotage my chances of marrying well. They were terrified I might surpass them. And now? Now she was encouraging it?

Of course.

Maximilian must have already planted the idea in her ear.

When I looked up, I caught the flash of jealousy in Fatima’s eyes, and Camille’s stare burned with open hatred.

So I lowered my gaze and played my role perfectly. “I’ll follow whatever Father and Fatima believe is best for me.”

Father nodded, clearly pleased, as if my obedience had confirmed something he wanted to see. With a dismissive wave, he sent me away.

Later that evening, as I passed Camille’s room, her shrill voice pierced the hallway.

“She doesn’t even have a mother! How can that cursed girl marry Maximilian? If anyone deserves him, it’s me! Father loves me the most!”

I clenched my fist until my nails bit into my skin. Don’t worry, dear sister. I’ll make sure you get exactly what you’re wishing for.

Back in my room, my phone vibrated.

Surveillance footage from the previous night loaded—clear as day, showing me at an arcade with friends until morning.

Finally.

Proof at last. Evidence I could use to clear everything up with Sebastian.

I opened our chat and sent it immediately.

A red exclamation mark appeared.

My stomach dropped.

Did Sebastian… block me?

No. That couldn’t be real.

Without thinking, I grabbed my coat and rushed straight to his high-rise apartment downtown.

The butler met me at the entrance, stepping firmly into my path. “Miss DeLacroix, I’m afraid Mr. Hawthorne has instructed us not to receive you.”

“W-why?” I stammered. “Did Maximilian threaten him? Did something—”

“I’m sorry,” the butler interrupted calmly. “Mr. Hawthorne stated that from today onward, he and you will lead separate lives, without any further connection.”

My ears rang. The world tilted beneath my feet.

Still, I wiped my tears away.

It wasn’t over.

Sebastian would attend a mutual friend’s birthday celebration next week.

And that—

That would be my chance.

When night finally settled in, I stepped onto the rooftop bar, the city unfurling below like a sea of lights, endless and glittering. The wind teased loose strands of my hair while distant music blended with laughter and the clink of glasses. I took a slow breath, steadying myself, and let my eyes roam across the crowd.

And then I saw him.

Sebastian stood by the railing, tall and composed, as if the chaos of the world couldn’t touch him. A glass of whiskey rested loosely in his hand, the neon glow carving his profile into something sharp and unyielding.

I took a seat at the edge of a shared table, exchanging polite smiles, offering light conversation when spoken to. Outwardly, I fit in. But my gaze betrayed me—it kept drifting back to Sebastian. He never once looked in my direction.

As the night deepened and alcohol loosened tongues, someone shouted for a game of Truth or Dare. Cheers erupted. When it was Sebastian’s turn, he chose truth without hesitation.

A man across from him leaned forward, clearly entertained. “Alright, Hawthorne. Be honest—what kind of person do you despise the most?”

The laughter faded.

Sebastian traced the rim of his glass slowly before answering. “I can’t stand people who want everything. The kind who profit from one side, then turn around and demand rewards from the other.”

He paused.

Then he turned his head.

His gaze cut straight through the space between us and locked onto mine.

“Do you know what that’s called, Vivienne?”

Ice flooded my veins.

For a heartbeat, the entire rooftop fell silent. Then someone laughed too loudly, cracked a joke, and the noise returned, awkward and forced.

Sebastian murmured a brief apology to the group and stood, clearly intending to leave.

“Sebastian—wait, please,” I called, already moving after him.

I barely made it around the corner before someone seized my wrist.

“He doesn’t want to see you,” a familiar voice sneered. “Why do you keep chasing him? Are you really that shameless?”

Maximilian.

Again.

His fingers bit into my skin. I struggled, but he didn’t budge. “Let go of me. This has nothing to do with you.”

A calculating glint flashed in his eyes. He snapped his fingers.

Two men appeared instantly, each grabbing one of my arms.

“Let me go! Maximilian, what are you doing?!” I shouted, panic surging.

“Calm down,” he said gently, almost tenderly.

Before I could react, one of the men forced a small red pill past my lips, holding my jaw so I couldn’t spit it out.

“Mmph—!”

I gagged, but Maximilian pressed a glass of liquor to my mouth. The alcohol burned as it slid down my throat, sending me into a fit of coughing, tears stinging my eyes.

He watched with a look of quiet satisfaction.

Heat rushed to my face. My breathing turned shallow, uneven. He waved the men away, slipped an arm around my waist, and pulled me close.

“Easy,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.”

He dragged me down the corridor toward his suite. The drug made the world tilt and blur. I pushed weakly at his chest, though it probably looked like I was clinging instead of resisting.

And then I saw him.

Sebastian stood at the far end of the hallway, his eyes fixed on Maximilian’s arm wrapped around me.

“…Vivienne.”

The sound of my name twisted my heart painfully. He started toward us, fast and purposeful.

I tried to reach for him. “L-Sebastian, please, help—”

Maximilian cut in smoothly. “Don’t make a scene. You drank too much and came looking for me. You begged for another night—just like the one in the presidential suite.”

“No,” I breathed. “That’s not true.”

My voice was barely audible.

“Shh,” Maximilian whispered, brushing away a tear from my cheek. “Don’t talk nonsense. Mr. Hawthorne is watching.”

Then he lifted his gaze to Sebastian, his smile turning razor-sharp.

“Mr. Hawthorne, do you plan to interfere? Vivienne belongs to me. I intend to marry her. Do you really think I’d hurt her? You’d be wise to keep your distance.”

Sebastian stopped.

His raised hand hesitated—then fell slowly to his side.

Something inside me went numb.

The last fragile hope I’d been clinging to shattered in that moment.

I stopped resisting. My body went slack as Maximilian hauled me back to his private room.

The door slammed shut. He threw me onto the leather sofa, my limbs heavy and unresponsive. Through the haze, I saw his shadow loom over me, his fingers undoing the buttons of his shirt one by one.

The final thing I saw was his smile hovering above me before the world went black.

---

I woke slowly, blinking against the harsh glow of a chandelier. My head throbbed, my body screamed with soreness, and my skin felt raw, hypersensitive. A bitter taste crawled up my throat. I leaned forward, retching, though only sour liquid came up.

I pulled my dress back into place, adjusting it enough to look barely decent, and forced myself upright. My legs wobbled beneath me, but somehow I made it out of that suffocating room and into the cool night air.

The parking lot lights flickered weakly. For a moment, I wanted nothing more than to collapse.

Then I saw him.

Sebastian.

He leaned against his Bentley, a cigarette burning between his fingers, as if he’d been waiting. When he noticed me stumbling toward my car, his entire posture changed. He dropped the cigarette, crushed it underfoot, and strode toward me.

“Vivienne…”

I froze.

The hand he reached out with—I recognized it. The same hand that had pushed me away earlier. The same hand that had left me at Maximilian’s mercy.

I shook my head and stepped back.

“Don’t,” I whispered.