My fiancé, Griffin Vanderwood, fell for his social media intern, Skylar Jones, and tried to call off our engagement right before our companies' joint IPO.

I urged him to be discreet, to protect our shared business interests.

But then, Skylar faked her "accidental" drowning at a yacht party and framed me for her death.

Five years later, Griffin, now the CEO of the Vanderwood Group, came for his revenge. He used every dirty trick in the book to destroy my family's company, leaving us bankrupt and broken.

"This is for Skylar," he'd told me. "You owe her a debt."

When I opened my eyes again, I was back. It was the night of my twenty-second birthday party at the Guggenheim Museum.

Griffin's grandfather, Augustus Vanderwood, asked me for my birthday wish.

"I wish for Griffin and Miss Jones a lifetime of happiness together."

I gave a slight bow.

"Mr. Vanderwood, I'm here to request your permission to formally dissolve my engagement to Griffin."

————————

1

I died on a rainy night.

I was supposed to have lived to see Vermont’s mountainsides ablaze with red maples, but Griffin couldn't wait.

I tumbled down the spiral staircase of our Hamptons villa, step after agonizing step, as blood pooled beneath me.

It seemed that wasn't enough for him.

Again and again, he shoved me back down.

The pain was so excruciating I could barely make a sound, but I forced out a single word. "Why?"

I didn't understand.

Our families were old friends. We grew up together.

For over a decade, my family had invested everything in helping Griffin secure his place in the Vanderwood family, solidifying his claim as the heir.

In return, he lured my father into a financial trap that destroyed our family's company, and the shock of it triggered the heart attack that killed him.

"Why, Griffin?" I pleaded, desperately clutching his sleeve.

His face was a terrifying shade of pale. He was the one who had destroyed everything I held dear, yet he looked at me as if I were the traitor.

"This is for Skylar."

He spat the words through gritted teeth.

Skylar?

Skylar Jones?

The name was so distant, it took me a moment to place it.

Then I remembered the innocent, delicate face that went with the name.

A bitter laugh escaped my lips.

Five years.

For five whole years, he had never forgotten her.

He blamed her death on me, on my entire family, on the Sterling Group.

Griffin, you absolute...

A fool.

Before I could voice the last word, his hand closed around my throat.

He squeezed the air from my lungs, bit by bit.

Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth.

The same brilliant red as the autumn leaves on the mountainside.

...

"Rebecca, is your head hurting again?"

The cold rain vanished.

The hard floor beneath me was gone.

It was a perfect autumn day, and the Guggenheim Museum was bustling with guests.

It was my twenty-second birthday party—what was meant to be my engagement party to Griffin.

It felt as if fate, in some strange act of mercy, had granted me a second chance. I had been reborn.

Not only had I survived, but I was twenty-two again.

In this year, the Sterling Group was at its zenith. My father was one of the top ten billionaires on the Forbes list.

And Griffin and I were not yet officially engaged.

"You shouldn't have a headache," a voice snickered from behind me. "I just saw a TikTok of Griffin making out with his new intern on a yacht."

My best friend turned to snap back at her, but I put a hand on her arm, stopping her.

This wasn't a one-time thing.

Three months ago, Griffin went to Miami on a business trip and hooked up with Skylar.

That night, he decided she was his one true love. He wanted to marry her, to make it official.

This was the third time the tabloids had caught them, with the latest scandal breaking just yesterday.

"Rebecca, don't listen to them. You and Griffin grew up together, all that history..."

I just looked at my best friend and shook my head.

She fell silent.

Of course, she knew what I was thinking.

I had woken up in this new reality a week ago.

A week was more than enough time to process everything that had happened in the five years before my death.

"Rebecca," my best friend suddenly whispered, her voice tight, "Griffin's here."

...

I looked up and saw him walking toward me, the crowd parting around him like the sea.

The murmurs in the room immediately died down.

Griffin and I grew up together.

Our engagement had been arranged by our grandfathers when we were children.

If anyone bullied me, he was the first to my defense. If he was punished, I was the first to plead his case.

Until this very moment, no one had ever doubted that I was the one destined to be by Griffin's side.

And yet, here he was, at my twenty-second birthday party, with another woman on his arm.

Skylar, draped in a cheap white dress wholly unfit for the occasion, clung to his arm like a wilting flower.

Griffin smiled, leaning down to whisper something in her ear.

Skylar’s head snapped toward me, a flicker of panic in her eyes. Then, she hurried forward.

Her voice trembling, she launched into a public apology.

Just as I'd expected. This was playing out exactly as it had in my past life.

Even the single, perfect tear trembling on her eyelash was the same.

In my past life, this damsel-in-distress act was precisely how she had Griffin wrapped around her little finger.

I came from a world where marriages were business arrangements; I never expected to find love in one.

Skylar's arrival was a nuisance, an embarrassment, but it wasn't enough to make me lose my composure.

When Griffin first tried to break the engagement, I hadn't cried or thrown a tantrum. For the sake of our families' long friendship, I simply offered him some practical advice.

"Look, Skylar is an intern with no connections. Even if you two are serious... Augustus will never approve. You'll just be putting her in an impossible position.

"Griffin, be smart. Set her up in an apartment for now. Keep things quiet, and later... once you're CEO, you'll have the power to do whatever you want."

Just those few sentences.

Those words saved Skylar, but they sealed my doom.

...

In my past life, the moment Skylar began to apologize, I had rushed forward to help her up.

This time, I watched her, my expression unreadable. When I didn't move, she began to sway, teetering on a knife's edge of embarrassment and humiliation.

My best friend tugged at my sleeve.

The room was full of guests, and every eye was on us.

I gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

What's the rush?

"Skylar!" Griffin's face had already darkened.

She just stood there, her face a carefully constructed mask of pitiful heartbreak.

She glanced at Griffin, then back at me. Biting her lip, she kept up her on-the-verge-of-fainting act.

I calmly plucked a glass of champagne from a passing tray.

I was suddenly curious.

Just how far was she willing to take this performance?

...

Yes.

Skylar was acting.

Her innocence was an act. Even her "accidental drowning" in my past life had been a calculated lie.

I had once stumbled upon her private blog, where she'd meticulously detailed her plans to stage various "accidents" to win Griffin's guilt and, ultimately, his commitment.

"I'm just a normal girl. If I don't play the pathetic card to get his sympathy, how is a man like Griffin Vanderwood ever going to notice me?

"I need to stage another accident!

"I love him, but with my background, his family will never let me in.

"He promised to marry me. I need to do something that makes him feel like he owes me.

"Just one more 'accident,' and he'll spend the rest of his life feeling indebted to me!"

It was a brilliant performance.

She fooled Griffin. She fooled me.

She even fooled the press.

I once asked Griffin what he saw in her.

"I'm the eldest son of the Vanderwoods. Everyone has always kissed up to me, telling me exactly what I want to hear.

"They respect me, they ‘love’ me, but only because of my family's money and power.

"You're the same, Rebecca. If I weren't a Vanderwood, would you still marry me?"

The question had left me speechless.

If our families hadn't been equals, we never would have met, let alone been engaged.

"Skylar is the only one who loves me for me. She's willing to give up everything for me.

"Rebecca, how could I turn away love that pure?"

For a moment, he had almost convinced me.

As a Sterling, I had always been measured in my words and actions.

I had a duty to my parents, to my family name. I would never be so reckless as to throw everything away for one person.

But we had both overlooked another possibility.

It didn't matter what fantasy Griffin was chasing.

From the very beginning, Skylar had known exactly what she wanted.

She was determined to latch onto him and rewrite her future.

...

"Enough!" Griffin's voice was sharp.

The room fell silent.

Skylar trembled, slowly lifting her head to look at me, her eyes brimming with a tearful plea.

Her meaning was clear.

She had ruined my engagement party and made me the talk of the town, and she felt just terrible about it.

As long as I said nothing, her performance could continue.

Fine.

Let's see how long she can hold that pose.

I raised a single, elegant eyebrow and continued to sip my champagne.

Skylar's jaw tightened. Her body swayed more dramatically.

With a sudden stride, Griffin stormed forward and swept the entire champagne tower next to me to the floor with a deafening crash.

"Rebecca, that's enough!"

"Rebecca, is this how the Sterlings taught you to behave?"

His expression was glacial. The venom in his tone stunned the onlookers into silence.

He pulled Skylar to her feet, steadying her as his voice softened with concern. "Rebecca, apologize to her."

"Apologize to her, and I'll forget this ever happened."

It was all I could do not to laugh.

How naive I had been.

In my past life, after Skylar "drowned," I had called Griffin that very day. I told him everything I'd found on her blog, warning him not to trust her.

The next day, Skylar was found dead. For real.

The media called it an accidental drowning—a tragic end for a girl who couldn't have the man she loved.

Griffin even told me, "Good thing you warned me. I almost fell for her act."

After that...

For years, I believed he had moved on from Skylar.

After all, he hated being deceived more than anything.

Only at the moment of my death did I understand. When he spat that he'd been fooled, the "her" he was talking about wasn't Skylar.

It was me.

...

"Rebecca, are you still not going to say anything?"

"Skylar did nothing wrong. I'm the one who wants to end the engagement."

"Apologize to her, and I will overlook your rudeness."

I looked at Griffin, a small, genuine smile touching my lips.

I must have been blind.

I'd once thought he was intelligent.

"The elders are in the lounge, correct?"

I turned and asked a passing waiter.

Then, with all the grace I could muster, I strode toward the VIP lounge.

Griffin was right behind me.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Are you going to run and tattle to them?"

I ignored him completely.

He was still at my heels when I reached the door.

"Rebecca, don't think the Sterling name alone makes you my fiancée."

"I've already promised to marry Skylar. I would never marry such a heartless woman."

I glanced back at him.

Just as he'd said, he was born to privilege.

He had never faced a single real hardship.

He had no idea what a capable wife was worth to a man in his position.

My stare must have been colder than I realized, because he faltered for a second.

Just then, a man at the door chuckled. "Rebecca, what's this? You two are joined at the hip, I see."

The lounge was filled with our families' most important guests.

I stepped forward and gave a slight bow. "Mr. Vanderwood, on the occasion of my birthday, I have a wish to make."

"Griffin and Miss Jones share a bond I wouldn't dare to break."

"I cannot be the one to stand in their way."

"Mr. Vanderwood, I am formally requesting to dissolve my engagement to Griffin."

The room fell dead silent.

...

Before the night was over, the news had spread through our entire social circle.

The Sterling-Vanderwood alliance was on the rocks.

Griffin's public affair was already a well-known scandal.

Now, the sole heiress of the Sterling family had, at her own birthday party and in front of everyone, publicly called for an end to the engagement.

Everyone said Griffin's expression at that moment was priceless.

The patriarch of the Vanderwood family grabbed a crystal ashtray from a nearby table and smashed it over Griffin's head. Blood sprayed across his face.

"You fool!"

I was standing right next to Griffin as cold shards of glass rained down around me.

...

"Who gave you the nerve to cause such a scene in front of so many people?"

My father was furious. "Breaking the engagement?! This was settled by your grandfather and Augustus Vanderwood decades ago. You think you can just call it off in public?"

I stood tall, meeting his gaze without flinching.

"What about the IPO? What if this sinks the deal?"

"Go to the Vanderwoods and apologize. Tell them you were impulsive, that you weren't thinking straight..."

"I'm not going," I replied firmly.

"You're not going? Then what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to break the engagement."

"You..." my father pointed a trembling finger at me. "You're out of your mind!"

He slammed the door and stormed out.