The freezing rain battered my broken body. Blood pooled around my fingertips, washing away into the dark gutter.

"Is this it?" I whispered to the empty street, my voice barely a rasp over the storm.

Six years.

I gave six years of my life to Lucca Moretti, Kael Arden, and Silas Hale.

What did it get me? My family bankrupt. My parents dead. Me, bleeding out alone in an alley, discarded like trash after they took everything my family owned.

The roaring engine of the car that hit me faded into a dull hum. My vision blackened.

Then, the cold vanished.

A blinding light pierced my eyelids. The smell of expensive champagne and fresh roses hit my nose.

"Elowen? Are you even listening to me?"

I gasped, my eyes snapping open.

I wasn't in the alley. I stood in the center of a grand ballroom, surrounded by crystal chandeliers and towering floral arrangements.

"Earth to the birthday girl," Chloe Mercer snapped her fingers in front of my face. "Lucca just walked in."

I touched my cheek. Warm. Smooth. No scars.

I looked down at the emerald silk gown clinging to my frame. My eighteenth birthday dress.

I was alive.

"You made sure they served his favorite whiskey," Chloe reminded me, fixing a stray curl near my temple. "You even bribed the DJ to play that song he likes. Go get your man."

I lifted my chin and looked across the room.

The crowd parted effortlessly for them.

Lucca Moretti stood at the center, looking bored and arrogant in his tailored suit. Kael Arden checked his silver watch, radiating impatience. Silas Hale swirled a glass of whiskey, flashing a charismatic smile at a passing heiress.

My stomach turned. The lengths I had gone to for a man who despised me.

"Cancel the DJ," I told Chloe.

Chloe blinked, her hand freezing in mid-air. "What?"

"You heard me," I said, keeping my eyes on the three men. "Tell him to play whatever he wants. And tell the bartender to dump that specific whiskey down the drain."

Chloe stared at me like I had grown a second head. "Are you insane? Lucca will be furious."

"Let him be."

I stepped forward. The ballroom hushed immediately.

Elite vultures loved a good show, and Elowen Voss humiliating herself for Lucca was their favorite rerun.

Lucca didn't even bother to look at me as I approached. He kept his gaze fixed on the balcony doors.

"You're late to your own party, El," Lucca stated, his tone flat.

Kael scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "She was probably fixing her makeup for an hour just to impress you, Luc."

Silas offered a mocking grin. "Be nice, boys. It's her big day. Let the girl have her moment."

I stopped three feet away from them.

The silence stretched, thick and heavy.

Lucca finally turned his head, an irritated frown forming on his perfect face.

"Well?" he demanded. "Aren't you going to ask me to dance?"

I stared at him. Really looked at the man who would eventually order the hostile takeover of my father's company.

A laugh bubbled up from my throat. It sounded harsh, foreign to my own ears.

Lucca's jaw tightened. "What's so funny?"

"You," I replied, my voice steady and cold. "The absolute arrogance of you."

Gasps rippled through the nearby guests. Someone dropped a champagne flute. It shattered against the marble floor.

Kael dropped his arms, stepping closer. "Have you lost your mind, Elowen?"

"I think I just found it," I told him, holding his stare until he blinked first.

Silas stepped forward, his charming facade slipping to reveal the manipulator underneath.

"El, you're making a scene," Silas murmured, reaching for my arm. "Apologize to Lucca."

I yanked my arm back before his fingers could brush my skin.

"Apologize?" I met Silas's eyes, remembering how he lied to the press to ruin my mother's reputation. "For what? Not wagging my tail on command?"

Lucca stepped into my space, towering over me. The air around him grew dangerous.

"You're embarrassing yourself, El," Lucca warned, his voice dropping to a lethal pitch. "You think acting out is going to make me want you?"

"Want me?" I tilted my head, feigning confusion. "Lucca, I wouldn't want you if you were the last man on earth."

Whispers erupted across the ballroom.

Kael sneered, his face flushing red. "She's drunk. Get her a water."

"Stone cold sober, Kael," I shot back. "Unlike you, who needs a drink in his hand to tolerate his own reflection."

Kael opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Silas tried to play peacemaker again, a role he used to mask his cruelty. "El, sweetheart. Let's go to the balcony and talk this out. You're overwhelmed."

"Don't call me sweetheart," I snapped. "And don't pretend you care. None of you do."

Lucca's eyes narrowed into dark slits.

"Elowen. Stop this tantrum right now. Come here."

He held out his hand. An order. A command I had obeyed a thousand times before.

I looked at his outstretched palm, then up at his furious expression.

"The old Elowen Voss would chase after you," I said, making sure my voice carried across the silent ballroom.

I paused, letting the weight of my words sink into their thick skulls.

"But now... I'm out."

I spun on my heel, my emerald skirt flaring around my legs.

"Elowen!" Lucca barked.

I walked toward the grand double doors. The crowd parted for me like I was contagious, their faces painted with shock.

Behind me, I heard Kael swear under his breath.

"Let her go," Lucca's voice cracked like a whip through the room. "She'll be begging outside my door by morning."

A bitter smile touched my lips. Keep dreaming, Lucca.

I pushed the heavy oak doors open and stepped into the cool night air.

Freedom tasted sweet. The suffocating grip of my past life was finally gone.

I marched down the marble steps, eager to leave the estate and figure out my next move.

But as I reached the bottom, a tall figure stepped out from the shadows of the garden hedges, blocking my path.

"Leaving your own party so soon, Miss Voss?"

I froze.

That voice didn't belong to Lucca, Kael, or Silas.

A man leaned against a black town car, tossing a silver lighter between his fingers.

"Who are you?" I demanded, my muscles tensing.

He stepped into the moonlight, revealing sharp features and eyes that held too many secrets.

"Someone who knows exactly what you're running from," he replied, catching the lighter in his fist. "And someone who knows how to destroy them."

The stranger in the shadows didn't move. He just held out a matte black business card.

"Take it," the man said, his voice a low rumble over the distant hum of city traffic. "When you decide you want to tear their empires down to the studs, call that number."

I snatched the card from his fingers. "I don't need help."

"Everyone needs help, Miss Voss," he replied. "Especially when they are playing against a rigged deck. You walked out on the princes of the city tonight. Bold move. But walking away doesn't keep the wolves from your door."

"I'm not afraid of wolves," I told him, gripping my clutch.

"You should be," he said, turning toward the open door of his town car. "They're already circling your father's company. The name is Orion Thorne."

He slid into the back seat, and the car glided away into the night.

I glanced at the card. Just a phone number. No company name. No title. I shoved it into my bag and hailed a passing cab.

***

"Cancel the Apex acquisition."

My father blinked, dropping his gold pen onto the mahogany boardroom table. Seven senior executives turned their heads toward me.

I stood at the head of the room, tossing a thick manila folder onto the polished wood. It slid perfectly to a stop in front of my father.

"Elowen," my father started, his brow furrowing in confusion. "This is a closed board meeting."

"A meeting that will bankrupt Voss Industries in three years," I fired back, leaning my palms flat against the table. "Apex is bleeding cash. They hid their offshore debts in a shell company, and their lead developer just jumped ship."

A bald executive at the end of the table scoffed, adjusting his silk tie. "With all due respect, Elowen, shouldn't you be out shopping with Lucca Moretti? Leave the corporate strategy to us."

I shifted my gaze to him. The old Elowen would have shrunk back, embarrassed by the public dismissal.

"Mr. Briggs," I said, keeping my tone deadly even. "If you spent half as much time vetting our acquisitions as you do tracking my social calendar, we wouldn't be about to lose fifty million dollars."

Briggs's face flushed a deep, ugly red. "Excuse me?"

"Open the folder, Dad," I ordered.

My father flipped the cover open. His eyes scanned the documents. I had spent the entire night pulling the public records I remembered from my past life, connecting the dots that our internal auditors had conveniently missed.

"Where did you get this?" my father asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"It doesn't matter," I told him. "What matters is pulling out of the deal before the ink dries. We invoke the morality clause on page four, paragraph two, and walk away clean."

"This is absurd!" Briggs slammed his hand on the table. "We've spent six months negotiating this merger!"

"And I just saved you from a sinking ship in six minutes," I countered, staring him down until he looked away. "We terminate Apex. Then, we buy out Nova Tech instead. Their stock is tanking today, but their new patent approval goes through next Tuesday. We buy low, we triple our valuation by quarter three."

The room fell dead silent.

Briggs opened his mouth to argue, but my father held up a hand.

"Meeting adjourned," my father announced, not looking up from the papers. "Briggs, get legal on the phone. We are terminating the Apex contract immediately."

I straightened up, smoothing the front of my blazer.

"Good call," I said.

I turned and walked out of the boardroom. Behind me, the whispers started. Not about my dresses, or my pathetic crush on Lucca, but about the shark that had just swum into their tank.

***

Two weeks later, the Crystal Pavilion hummed with the chatter of the city's elite.

I held a flute of sparkling water, nodding as an older tech magnate finished his pitch.

"We would love to have Voss Industries as a lead investor," the man said, offering a hopeful smile.

"Send the prospectus to my office by noon tomorrow," I replied, shaking his hand firmly. "I'll review it personally."

He beamed and hurried off into the crowd.

I took a sip of my water. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the stares. The socialites who used to mock me were huddled in corners, watching my every move. I had closed three major deals in fourteen days. The naive, lovesick heiress was dead.

"Playing dress-up as a CEO, El?"

I turned. Kael Arden stood by the champagne tower, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Better than playing pretend as a professional athlete, Kael," I shot back. "How's that shoulder injury you're hiding from your sponsors?"

Kael went completely pale. His smirk vanished. "How do you know about that?"

"I know a lot of things," I said, stepping past him. "Keep my name out of your mouth, or I'll make sure your sponsors know exactly why your swing is failing."

I didn't wait for his response. I moved toward the grand balcony, desperate for some fresh air.

But a solid chest blocked my path.

"You're avoiding me."

I tilted my head up. Lucca Moretti glared down at me. He wore a midnight blue tuxedo, his jaw set in a rigid line.

"I'm working, Lucca," I said, stepping to the right.

He mirrored my movement, trapping me against a marble pillar.

"You haven't answered my calls," Lucca snapped, his dark eyes searching my face. "You didn't show up to the charity gala on Friday. And now you're playing businesswoman?"

"I am a businesswoman," I corrected, keeping my voice light. "Now, if you'll excuse me."

Lucca grabbed my wrist. His grip wasn't bruising, but it was firm enough to halt me.

"Didn't you always want to get close to me?" he demanded. The irritation in his voice cracked, revealing a strange, raw edge. "You followed me around for years. Why won't you even give me a glance now?"

I looked at his hand wrapped around my wrist. Then I looked up into his eyes.

In my past life, this proximity would have made my heart race. I would have melted into a puddle, desperate for any scrap of his attention. Now, all I felt was the phantom pain of freezing rain on asphalt and blood pooling in a gutter.

I yanked my arm free.

"Because I finally realized my life shouldn't revolve around you," I answered calmly.

Lucca physically recoiled. His shoulders stiffened, and a flash of genuine shock crossed his perfect features. It was the first time I had ever seen him look uncertain.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked, his tone dropping.

"It means I'm bored, Lucca." I offered a polite, empty smile. "You were a childhood habit. I grew up. I suggest you do the same."

"You're lying," he spat, closing the distance again. "You're doing this for attention. You want me to chase you. You think this cold act makes you interesting?"

A sharp laugh escaped my lips. "I think it makes me unavailable. I don't want you in the same room as me."

Lucca's fists clenched at his sides. The muscle in his jaw jumped.

"You belong to me, El," he muttered, leaning in close. "You always have."

"I belong to myself," I shot back, my voice turning to ice. "Keep away from me. And keep your father away from my company's supply chains, or I'll bury your shipping division by Friday."

His eyes widened. He hadn't expected me to know about their underhanded tactics.

I didn't wait for him to recover. I stepped around him, leaving him standing frozen amidst the partygoers, and walked toward the grand staircase.

My phone buzzed in my clutch.

I pulled it out and glanced at the screen. An unknown number.

*Message: You handled the boy well. But you missed the real threat. Look up at the balcony.*

I stopped on the bottom step and raised my head.

Standing on the second-floor landing, looking down at the party, was Silas Hale. He wasn't smiling his usual charming smile. He was holding a folder.

The exact same manila folder I had given my father two weeks ago.

My phone buzzed again.

*Message: He stole the Nova Tech patent documents. Meet me outside if you want to get them back. - Thorne.*

I gripped my phone, the screen glowing with Thorne’s message. Silas Hale stood on the balcony above, the stolen Nova Tech folder tucked neatly under his arm. I needed to get outside.

I turned toward the side exit, eager to escape the suffocating heat of the ballroom.

A hand clamped around my wrist.

The fingers were unnaturally cold, biting through the thin silk of my sleeve. Before I could shout, someone yanked me behind the heavy velvet curtains of the coatroom hallway.

I stumbled, catching my balance against the oak wainscoting.

Lucca stood blocking the exit. He did not look like the arrogant prince from ten minutes ago. He looked completely unhinged.

His expensive midnight blue tie hung loose around his neck. He pressed the heels of his hands against his temples, his eyes squeezed shut in obvious agony.

"Shut them up," Lucca ground out, his voice a ragged scrape against the quiet of the hidden corridor.

"Move out of my way, Lucca." I stepped forward.

He lunged, pinning me against the wallpaper. Not with force, but with sheer desperation. He buried his face into the crook of my neck, his icy skin sending a violent shiver down my spine.

I shoved his shoulders hard. "Get off me!"

"Just a minute," he pleaded, his grip tightening on my arms. "Just give me one minute of quiet. Please."

I froze. "What are you talking about?"

He lifted his head. His dark eyes were entirely bloodshot. The veins under his pale skin pulsed with a strange, unnatural darkness.

"The noise," he rasped, his chest heaving. "The greed. The lust. The endless, deafening screams inside their heads. I hear all of it. Every single guest in that ballroom."

I stared at him, my mind racing. "Are you on drugs?"

A bitter, broken laugh tore from his throat. "Drugs would numb it. For two centuries, I have listened to the filthy secrets of humanity. A never-ending chorus of lies and depravity."

Two centuries.

The words hung in the cramped space. In my past life, I would have assumed he was having a psychotic break. Now, looking at the absolute stillness of his chest, the freezing temperature of his skin, a horrifying truth clicked into place.

"You are not human," I stated flatly.

"Does it matter?" Lucca stepped back, pacing the narrow hall like a caged animal. "You were the only one. For six years, whenever you stood near me, the voices stopped. Your mind is a vault, El. Absolute, perfect silence. You were my only peace."

The realization hit me like a physical blow.

All those years I spent trailing after him like a lost puppy. The times he let me sit in his study for hours while he worked. The rare moments he allowed me to hold his hand.

He never tolerated me because he cared. He kept me around as a human mute button.

I did not cry. I did not scream.

Instead, a wide, genuine smile stretched across my face.

Lucca stopped pacing. "You find this amusing?" he demanded, his fangs—actual, razor-sharp fangs—glinting under the dim sconce light.

"I find it pathetic," I told him, dropping the smile instantly. "You let me ruin my life for you, just so you could get some peace and quiet."

"I gave you status!" Lucca argued, his composure cracking entirely. "I let you stand beside me. Do you know how many women would kill for that privilege?"

"Then go find one of them." I pointed toward the velvet curtains separating us from the party. "Go listen to their thoughts. Bathe in their noise."

He flinched as if I had struck his jaw. "It is impossible. Not anymore. Since you walked out of the estate two weeks ago, the noise is deafening. Sleep is impossible. My thoughts are shattered. I need you back."

"I am not your property," I shot back, my tone turning to ice. "And I am certainly not your shield."

I pushed past him, aiming for the brass handle of the exterior door.

He blocked it again, his speed impossible to track. One second he stood behind me, the next he planted himself squarely in front of the exit.

"Elowen, what exactly do you want from me?" he asked. The arrogance was entirely stripped away, leaving only raw, desperate panic in his dark eyes. "Money? Power? Tell me your price. I will give you anything you ask for."

I looked at the man who had watched my family burn to the ground. The monster who had drained my youth and discarded me when I was no longer convenient.

"Before I wanted your love," I said, my voice steady, carrying the weight of a past life he would never understand. "Now... I want nothing."

Lucca's jaw dropped. The panic in his eyes morphed into absolute terror.

He reached out, his fingers trembling wildly. "El, wait—"

I slapped his hand away.

"Do not touch me," I warned. "If you ever come near me again, I will not just ignore you. I will make sure the whole world knows exactly what you are."

I grabbed the handle and shoved the heavy door open.

The crisp night air hit my face, instantly clearing the suffocating scent of his cologne. I marched down the stone pathway toward the garden gates without a single backward glance. I felt his panic radiating through the open doorway, a heavy wave of realization that he had permanently lost the one thing keeping him sane.

Thorne’s black town car idled by the curb, the engine a low purr against the quiet street.

The rear window rolled down. Orion Thorne leaned forward, his sharp eyes scanning my expression in the moonlight.

"You look like you just saw a ghost," Thorne remarked, tapping his fingers against the window frame.

"Worse," I replied, pulling my coat tighter around my shoulders. "A parasite."

Thorne opened the door. "Get in. Silas Hale is on the move. If we do not intercept him in the next ten minutes, your father's company is history."

I slid into the leather seat. The door slammed shut, sealing me inside the quiet cabin.

"Where is he going?" I asked.

Thorne handed me a sleek tablet. A red dot blinked on a digital map, moving rapidly toward the city's harbor district.

"He is meeting a buyer for the Nova Tech documents," Thorne explained, signaling the driver to move. "Someone who wants to make sure Voss Industries never secures that patent."

"Who?"

Thorne met my gaze, a dangerous smirk playing on his lips.

"The exact same people who rigged the brakes on the car that killed you in your last life."