Five years into our marriage, Brandon Mason still loathed me.

*Usurper.* That's what he called me. A thief who had stolen a life that wasn't hers. He said I deserved to love in vain—to give everything and receive nothing in return.

Tears burned my eyes as I screamed back, cursing him. Telling him he'd betrayed his own heart. That he deserved a horrible death.

We were still screaming when the drunk driver's cargo truck swerved into our lane.

At the last second, Brandon yanked the wheel.

His side took the impact.

Inside the crumpled wreckage, pinned beneath twisted metal, he used his body to carve out a small pocket of space for me.

Even at death's door, he refused to touch me more than necessary.

"I'm sorry, Nora. I tried to love you." Blood bubbled past his lips with every word. "But she was too wonderful. After giving my heart to her... I couldn't give it to anyone else."

His breath hitched.

"We grew up together, but I can only be your brother. Never your lover."

Warm blood from his forehead dripped onto my face. It mixed with my tears.

"Nora, I'm dying a terrible death. Just like you said." His gaze began to drift. "Are you less angry now?"

The light was fading from his eyes.

"In the next life... please... let me be with her. Let me have my 'little sister,' okay?"

By the time the rescue team pried the door open, his chest had stopped rising.

Pinned beneath him, I was completely unharmed.

I screamed until my voice gave out.

Then I fainted.

When I woke, grief crushed my chest like a physical weight. I couldn't breathe under it. Couldn't see past it.

I slit my wrists to follow him.

But death was not the end.

I opened my eyes to the past.

Reliving this life, I made a decisive choice: cancel the engagement with the Mason family. Grant him his wish. Let him have his "little sister."

But there was one problem.

My younger sister had been stillborn.

——

"You want to call off the engagement?"

Father stared at me like his hearing had finally failed him.

"You've adored him since you were in diapers! At your *Zhuazhou* ceremony, you didn't grab the books or the money your mother and I prepared—you crawled straight to Brandon Mason and grabbed *him*!"

I lowered my head. My fingers twisted together until the knuckles turned white.

"That was a long time ago..."

Dad wasn't the type to force my hand. He studied me for a long moment, then sighed heavily.

"Fine. The Thomas family has other daughters. Your cousins would be more than willing to take your place."

"Dad." I cut him off. "Can you give the engagement to my younger sister?"

"What younger sister?" His eyes widened. "You're the youngest of your generation."

*Huh?*

I had assumed the "younger sister" Brandon spoke of so fondly was some distant relative I'd never met.

"There are cousins younger than you," Dad mused, "but you know the situation..."

I lowered my gaze.

Right. Aside from the twin who died at birth, I had no younger sister.

"Dad, let me choose who takes my place. For now, please don't tell the Mason family I'm backing out."

I left the house with a leaden weight in my chest, driving in a daze until I reached the cemetery.

My mother and my infant sister were buried there together.

I placed a bouquet of flowers on my mother's grave first. Then I set down jelly snacks and potato chips in front of the smaller tombstone beside it.

There was no photo on the small marker. Just cold stone.

"Little sister, if you can hear me... help me out. Let me find the 'sister' Brandon talked about, okay?"

I stood there for a long time, lost in thought.

Finally, I turned to leave.

A sleek Maybach had pulled up beside my car.

Brandon Mason stepped out, holding a bouquet.

We both froze.

A thousand words rushed to my throat, choking me. I didn't know where to begin.

My lips trembled. I wanted to ask if he was here to see *her*—my sister.

Then I saw the carnations in his hand.

*Right.* Today was Mother's Day.

"You... you're here to see Auntie?"

A cold sneer twisted his lips.

"Yes. Since my entire life is being dictated by others, I thought I should come complain to her."

His eyes cut into me like shards of ice.

"Congratulations are in order, I suppose."

He ground the words out through clenched teeth.

My fingernails dug into my palms. I fought back the burning in my eyes.

"Don't worry. If the one in your heart is still alive, I promise I will help you be with her!"

"Nora Thomas!"

Setting aside our previous life, this was the first time he had ever raised his voice at me.

"Don't speak of death. It's bad luck."

My vision blurred. "I mean it!"

"Nora."

He brushed past me, his shoulder clipping mine.

"I haven't even blamed you for stealing her place, so don't you dare curse her to die." He threw the words over his shoulder without breaking stride. "She was right—you really have become a vicious woman."

A chill sank deep into my bones.

Brandon strode into the cemetery without looking back.

I turned quietly and watched from a distance as he knelt before my mother's tombstone.

That broad back... the same back that had shielded me from crushing steel.

"Mom, I'm getting married. I came to tell you."

His voice drifted on the wind, hollow and resigned.

"It's Nora Thomas. You always said your greatest wish was for me to find someone I truly loved and grow old with them. But I'm going to break that promise."

He paused, head bowed.

"I don't love her."

"She makes scenes. She's stubborn. If I refuse, I'm afraid she'll hurt herself. I know you liked Nora, and I don't hate her... but love isn't something that can be forced."

He stared at the stone as if pleading for understanding.

"When the right person appears, one glance is enough to know. In two days, at the investment summit, I'll go see *her* one last time. And then... that will be the end of it."

Brandon rose and walked out of the cemetery.

I was still standing by the cars.

Waiting.

"Brandon. Take me to the summit."

He froze, his hand on the car door.

"Let me meet this 'sister' of mine. I'll make it clear to her." I held his gaze, my voice steady. "And then, I'll give you to her."

Surprise didn't flicker across his face.

Instead, his expression darkened into a scowl.

"You treat this engagement like a child's game?"

He loomed over me, his shadow swallowing mine.

"You were the one who threw a tantrum insisting on marrying me. Now that the whole world knows I'm marrying you, you want to back out?"

"But—"

"Save your excuses."

He yanked open the car door, shooting me one last frosty glare before sliding into the driver's seat.

"If you really wanted to break it off, you wouldn't have waited until today."

"I..."

He didn't wait for my explanation.

The Maybach roared to life and vanished down the road.

He knew me too well.

Going back on my word wasn't my style.

But that was before I died.

I had never realized his love for that "sister" burned so hot.

*Brandon Mason, you and I are fated to meet, but not destined to be together.*

I had learned that lesson with my life.

I truly wanted to repay him for saving me.

I sent him a text, begging for a chance to fix things for both of us.

He didn't reply.

Only his brother messaged back: *He said there are decades to spend together after the wedding. Cut the nonsense.*

I had no other choice.

Two days later, the Maybach idled at my front gate.

The window rolled down, revealing his impassive profile.

"Get in."

I didn't hesitate.

The summit was a grand affair. The moment Brandon and I stepped into the hall, we commanded every eye in the room.

A marriage alliance between the two most powerful families in the circle—the news had already spread like wildfire.

Brandon accepted the congratulations stiffly.

His smile was bitter, yet he never left my side.

He was torn.

On one side, blazing loyalty to his beloved. On the other, a rigid sense of duty to his status.

Everyone knew he was my fiancé. He wouldn't abandon me under the public eye to chase another woman.

In my past life, I had hated that sense of responsibility. It gave me false hope. It made me think he might still love me.

And when he died saving me to "fulfill" that duty... the grief had been visceral. Like vomiting blood.

"Brandon, you don't need to babysit me," I whispered. "Go see whoever you want to see."

His gaze was fixed on a distant point across the room.

"I'm going to the restroom."

With that abrupt excuse, he walked away.

But he didn't go to the restroom.

I watched him head in the exact direction he'd been staring.

My gaze followed him.

A girl in a white dress stood with her back to me, chatting and laughing with a group of friends.

As if sensing eyes on her, she turned.

Our gazes locked.

My hand flew to my mouth to stifle a gasp.

*How?*

How could there be someone in this world who looked exactly like me?

She froze for a split second.

Her eyes raked over me. Up. Down.

Then her lips curled into a disdainful, icy smile.

She turned her back on me and walked away.

I hitched up the hem of my gown and ran after her.

"Wait! Please, wait a moment!"

The girl quickened her pace.

"Wait—*ah!*"

My heel slipped. My knees slammed into the floor.

I tried to scramble up, but the floor lurched beneath me.

I hadn't slipped.

The building was shaking.

"Why is there a timer here?!" someone screamed.

"Oh god! It's a bomb!"

Panic erupted around me, but I couldn't focus on the screams. The girl was already heading up the stairs.

"Wait!"

I stumbled across the trembling floor, desperate to catch her.

A sickening *creak* echoed from the ceiling.

"Stop running! Look out!"

"The chandelier! It's falling!"

My eyes stayed locked on the girl's retreating figure. "Wait! I just have two questions!"

"Nora!"

A massive force slammed into me from the side.

Brandon tackled me, his arms wrapping around my body as we rolled across the fracturing granite.

*CRASH!*

The crystal chandelier shattered exactly where I'd been standing a second ago, smashing a crater into the floor.

Before I could speak, a violent tremor tore through the building.

I screamed.

Immediately, I was engulfed in a solid, protective embrace.

Brandon shielded me with his body.

Just like before.

When the tremors subsided, he dragged me out of the building and onto the pavement. He collapsed over me, kneeling, pinning me to the ground.

Warm blood from his forehead dripped onto my cheek, mixing with the ash in the air.

His teeth clenched. His face twisted with fury.

"Are you *crazy?*"

For a moment, I was back in the car wreck.

Him hovering over me. Blocking the danger. Refusing to let our bodies touch more than necessary.

"Bran—"

"Fire! Hurry, put out the fire! There are people still inside!"

The screams of the survivors shattered the moment.

Brandon went rigid.

Ignoring his injuries, he staggered to his feet.

His eyes darted frantically across the crowd of evacuees, scanning, searching.

Panic seized him. His eyes turned bloodshot.

He spun around and sprinted back toward the burning building.

"Brandon!"

I tried to chase him, but security guards grabbed my arms, holding me back.

Brandon's silhouette disappeared into the wall of smoke and fire.

"Brandon!!" I screamed.

My legs gave out.

The roar of the flames and the cracking of timber threatened to swallow my sanity.

"Miss, you can't go in!" The guard's grip tightened. "We'll stop Mr. Mason. The building is sealed off!"

"Sealed off..."

Tears streamed down my face. "Then... can the people inside still get out?"

"In this situation..." The guard grimaced. "Those who didn't make it out... they're likely gone."

My knees buckled completely. The guard had to hold me upright.

That meant... that girl...

"Nora Thomas!"

The voice cut through the chaos.

My head snapped up.

Brandon Mason was walking toward me. Soot and blood smeared his face.

"Brandon! You—"

*Smack!*

The force of his hand whipped my head to the side.

The slap silenced the "Are you okay?" on the tip of my tongue.

"It was you, wasn't it?" He roared, his voice shaking with rage. "You followed me here on purpose! You set this up to kill her!"

In our five years of miserable marriage in the past life, he had never laid a hand on me.

Now, he looked ready to tear me apart, straining against the security guards struggling to restrain him.

I clutched my stinging cheek and stared at him.

He looked at me with pure, unadulterated hatred.

Like I was a stranger.

Like I was a monster.