Zoe was done with Southport, but she had one last thing to cross off her list.

In her past life, she hadn't even known about her mom's keepsake until right before she died—found out it had shown up at some auction.

And that auction? Happening exactly three days after the Elite Match Gala.

She threw her last few things into a bag and showed up that night looking drop-dead stunning.

Zoe tuned out the whispers and zeroed in on one thing.

The moment that familiar gemstone bangle popped up, she raised her paddle.

"Three hundred thousand."

It wasn't in the best shape, but she threw out a high bid fast—hoping to lock it down without any fuss.

Right as the gavel started to drop, a voice cut through the room.

"Three-fifty!"

Zoe whipped around and locked eyes with Vicky, who stared her down like it was a game.

Her stomach dropped. She lifted her paddle. "Four hundred."

Vicky fired back. "Five hundred."

Zoe clenched her jaw. "Seven."

The crowd started buzzing. That bangle wasn't worth nearly that much.

Vicky hesitated, lowering her paddle—until a hand stopped her.

Connor.

"One million," he said, cool as ever. "It's just a bangle. If Vicky wants it, no reason to let someone else take it.

"Zoe, don't be difficult. What's hers isn't yours."

His tone was icy, but to Zoe, it felt like a slap.

Zoe stared at him, stunned. "It was mine first!"

Connor's eyes narrowed. "Your dad spoiled you rotten. You've had more jewelry than you can count.

"Vicky got sent away as a kid. She's your sister too, and she had to figure everything out on her own. And now you're really going to fight her over some bangle?"

Zoe met his blank stare, and her whole body went cold.

She flashed back to middle school—some kid had tried to snatch her lottery prize just because he liked it more.

She'd clung to it, crying, too small to fight back.

Connor had stormed in, grabbed the kid by the collar, and snarled, "No one takes what's yours."

That version of him? Long gone.

Now, he barely looked at her. Just flicked his hand.

"I'll take on every bid. Let's not waste time."

The room stirred—everyone got the message. He was locking it down for Vicky.

Zoe's jaw clenched so tight she could taste blood. Rage, grief, and all those buried memories came rushing back.

In her last life, Connor had waved his hand just like that—right before her explicit photos got blasted on a giant public screen.

Zoe let out a bitter laugh, eyes locked on Connor and the pale-faced Vicky.

"Connor, what's the rush? Trying to impress your girl and lovechild already?

"Vicky, just because you're the daughter of a mistress doesn't mean you get to play lady of the house by taking my mother's bangle."

Smack!

The slap echoed like a gunshot. Zoe's head snapped to the side.

She stared at Connor, stunned, caught in the chill of his disgusted glare.

"You've got no manners, Zoe. Talking like that about your own sister—did your mom teach you anything before she died?"

The jab landed hard. Her eyes stung. She glanced at the bangle, vision blurring.

She wanted to speak, to tell him it was the only thing her mom left her—

But before a word could leave her mouth, Connor was already waving security over.

"Get her out. There are rules here. Don't let her crash the party again."

Zoe got tossed out of the auction hall like trash, right in front of everyone.

Her dress was wrecked, her body ached from where security had roughed her up—but none of it hurt like her heart did.

Outside, fireworks lit up the sky—used only when someone locked in a win.

She just stood there, staring. By the time she blinked, her cheeks were already soaked.

Whatever was left of her feelings for Connor burned out right then, gone with her mom's stolen bangle.

She wiped her face, pulled herself together, and grabbed every asset she still had.

She was going to his place. That bangle was the one thing she wasn't walking away from.

***

Zoe showed up just as Connor's car rolled through the gate.

Vicky froze when she saw her, instantly shoving the hand with the gemstone bangle behind her back.

Zoe's face was pale, her hands clutching a fresh stack of financial statements.

"Give me back my mother's bangle. All of this—it's yours," she said, voice shaking in the cold but steady as ever.

Connor's jaw tightened. At the word "bangle", his scowl deepened.

"Vicky's the lady of my house now. We don't need your money."

Zoe didn't say a word. She just stepped in their way, arm out, eyes locked on them.

Vicky placed a soft hand on Connor's arm. "Go inside, Connor. This is between me and Zoe. I'll handle it."

He paused, then turned and walked off.

The second he was gone, Vicky's whole vibe flipped cold.

She smacked the papers out of Zoe's hands like they were nothing.

Then she smirked, lifted her wrist—and chucked the bangle straight into the pond.

Zoe didn't even think—she watched the bangle disappear and dove in after it.

The freezing water slammed into her, stealing her breath and numbing her on contact.

She thrashed for a second, then the panic hit.

She couldn't swim.

The cold, the dark, the blind panic—it all blurred together. She had no idea where the bangle went.

Water thrashed around her as distant, muffled shouting came from the shore—then another splash. Someone else had jumped in.

Her skin felt like it was on fire, every inch stabbed with ice, the weight of the water pressing in.

Through the blur of water and panic, Zoe barely made out Connor rushing over.

He was yelling.

"Vicky! Vicky, are you okay?"

So Vicky had jumped in too. But... why?

Zoe didn't have time to figure it out.

Her fingers suddenly brushed something solid—round, smooth.

She grabbed it, heart pounding. It had to be the bangle.

With everything she had left, she kicked toward the surface.

Onshore, Connor dragged a soaked Vicky out of the water, barking for the butler to take her inside.

Vicky was coughing, gasping, trying to say something.

But Connor didn't answer. He just stood there, silent, eyes locked on the water, brows drawn tight.

The only sound cutting through the dark water was Zoe thrashing, struggling to stay up.

Connor froze. He knew—Zoe had never learned to swim.

As a kid, she'd fallen into a river once. He'd jumped in right after her, no hesitation.

She'd been terrified of water ever since. Wouldn't even go near a deep pond.

But tonight? Just to go head-to-head with Vicky over a bangle, she dove in like it meant everything.

Connor didn't get why he felt so on edge. He told himself it was just frustration—Zoe being her usual stubborn self.

It was just a bangle. Why couldn't she let Vicky have it?

Vicky was marrying into his family. That meant Zoe was still family, too.

It's not like Vicky would lock the thing away and never let her see it.

No—Zoe was just jealous. Jealous that Vicky had him now. That's why she always tried to take things from her.

The more he fed himself that story, the colder his expression turned.

Any hint of doubt disappeared as he watched Zoe flailing in the water.

He turned his back.

"Zoe, I hope this snaps you out of it," he said flatly. "Stop going at Vicky. Do that, and I'll treat you like I used to. Keep pushing, and I promise—it'll only get worse."

Then he walked away without a glance.

His words carried on the wind, brushing past Zoe's ears—but her mind couldn't even register them.

Connor thought the pond was shallow. No big deal.

What he didn't get was that for someone who couldn't swim, even knee-deep water could turn deadly.

In the dark, Zoe couldn't see the shore. Had no clue which way to go.

She kicked and flailed toward what she thought was land—but she wasn't moving. Not an inch.

The cold, murky water filled her mouth and nose.

Her limbs were giving out. Her body temperature tanked. Her right leg locked up, stiff and useless.

Connor's last words echoed in her head, colder than the water.

She opened her hand—just a metal ring. Probably from a bag.

Not the bangle. Not even close.

All the fight left her in a snap.

She'd been given a second shot at life... and she still hadn't done anything that mattered.

"Ms. Hertbert!"

Two splashes tore through the water. Someone grabbed her and hauled her back to shore.

It took a full fifteen minutes before Zoe's vision cleared.

She was in a car, dripping and dazed, staring at a group of strangers in all black.

Her voice came out raw. "Who are you?"

One of them handed her a folder. "Ms. Hertbert, our boss asked us to give you this. Please take a look."

She opened it under the dim car light—and froze.

Inside was a share transfer agreement. Five percent of Lyttelton Group.

And a full stack of documents returning every bit of Hertbert family property that had been sold off.

She looked up, stunned.

The man's tone was calm, but it carried the weight of someone else entirely.

"He also said—everything's set for the wedding in five days. He's just waiting on you."