The moment I got back to my place, I started packing. The farther I could get from Sarah Delgado, the better.

That was when the doorbell rang. Sarah stood outside, holding a folder.

"Mr. Kaufman, I think we need to talk."

I moved to shut the door, but her hand shot out and held it open.

"Your father's company. Don't you want to know what's happening to it?"

I stopped.

My father's company was the only thing I still cared about.

In my previous life, after we married, she'd taken full control of it. In the end, every last asset had been handed over to Simon Simmons as a betrothal gift.

I kept my expression flat and let her in.

Sarah tossed the folder onto the coffee table.

"The company's cash flow has collapsed. Without a capital injection in three days, it goes into liquidation."

"And right now, I'm the only one who can put up that kind of money."

I turned to look at her.

"What's the catch?"

Sarah leaned in close.

"Marry me."

I couldn't help it. I laughed.

"Sarah, what could you possibly want from me?"

"You. I want you."

She was good at this act. But I'd already died once. I would never fall for that line again.

I picked up the folder and tore it clean in half.

"Then let it go bankrupt."

"I'd sooner beg on the streets than marry you."

The second she left, I called the company's finance department to verify.

The situation was worse than she'd described. Not only had the cash flow dried up, but several massive debts were about to come due. Someone had clearly been pulling strings behind the scenes.

Who else could it be but Sarah?

She'd stop at nothing to force me to submit. The playbook was identical to my past life. First, engineer a crisis from the shadows. Then swoop in as the savior, so I'd fall at her feet in gratitude.

Not this time.

I listed my apartment for sale. I pawned every piece of jewelry I owned. I even reached out to former rivals, offering to sell my shares at a steep discount.

Every single one of them refused to see me.

Regina Henson had put the word out: anyone who helped me was openly declaring war on the Henson Group.

Morgan called to talk me down.

"Roland, would it kill you to bend a little?"

"Sarah's crazy about you. She went to Regina on her knees for your sake."

"You marry her, the company's saved, you've got a good life ahead of you. Everybody wins. What's the problem?"

I hit the end-call button and blocked his number.

Three days later, the court summons arrived.

I sat in my empty rental, staring at the bare walls.

The door swung open. Sarah stood in the doorway, umbrella in hand.

"Roland, stop fighting this."

She walked toward me and looked down from above.

"All you have to do is say yes, and all of this goes away."

I lifted my head and met her eyes.

"Sarah, do you honestly think that if you back someone into a corner and then toss them a scrap of mercy, they'll worship the ground you walk on?"

Her brow creased.

"I'm just trying to help you."

"Help me? By cutting off every escape route I had?"

I stood and closed the distance between us.

"By having Regina blacklist me?"

Sarah's hand shot up and seized my jaw, her fingers digging in hard.

"Roland, my patience has limits."

"You will marry me. There is no other option."

I let a slow smile spread across my face.

"Fine. I'll marry you."

Sarah blinked. She clearly hadn't expected me to agree so easily.

Her grip loosened. That carefully rehearsed softness slid back into her eyes.

"There. That's better."

"I'll give you a proper wedding."

I said nothing. The memories of my past life's wedding were still razor-sharp: the ceremony, the wedding night, the hired escort waiting in our bed.

I would never make that mistake again.

Agreeing was nothing more than a means to an end. I needed the capital injection.

The moment that money hit the account, I was gone.

On the day they signed the marriage license, Sarah was dressed to the nines.

She took my hand and led me out of the courthouse.

"Roland, we're husband and wife now."

The warmth in her voice was almost convincing. I pulled my hand free and gave a noncommittal grunt.

A sports car pulled up in front of us. The window rolled down, revealing a familiar face.

Simon Simmons. The man Sarah had been obsessed with for as long as I could remember.

In my last life, she'd been so desperate to please him that she'd thrown my life away without a second thought.

"Sarah, congratulations." Simon stepped out and fixed me with a look dripping with provocation. "So this is Mr. Kaufman? Quite handsome. No wonder you skipped my birthday party for him."

Sarah's shoulders stiffened, the movement barely perceptible.

She turned to Simon, a thread of anxiety woven into her voice. "Simon, what are you doing here?"

Simon pouted and walked over, looping his arm through hers with practiced familiarity. "I came to get a look at your new groom, of course."

"Sarah, my stomach hurts. Will you take me to the hospital?"

Right in front of me, her brand-new husband, without an ounce of shame.

Sarah glanced back at me. "Roland, Simon isn't feeling well. I'm going to take him to the hospital. The driver will bring you home."

The first day after signing the license in my last life had played out exactly the same way. One phone call from Simon, and she was gone. I'd sat alone in the bridal suite all night, waiting like a fool.

Back then, I'd actually believed she was just looking after her little brother.

I nodded at them both. "Sure. Take your time. I'll manage."

Sarah seemed displeased by how calm I was. Her brows knitted and she opened her mouth to say something, but Simon was already pulling her into the car.

Once the sports car disappeared down the road, I took out my phone and called the finance department.

"Has the money come through?"

"Yes, Mr. Kaufman."

The corner of my mouth curved upward.

"Transfer it to the offshore account immediately. Then call the police and report the company for suspected illegal fundraising. File for bankruptcy protection."

Back at the apartment Sarah had set up as our marital home, I swept every matching couple's trinket she'd prepared into the trash. Then I booked the earliest flight out of the country.

I was about to walk out the door when it slammed open.

Sarah charged in, seized me by the throat, and pinned me against the wall.

"Roland, you played me!"

A vein throbbed at her temple. Her eyes were wide, blazing.

"You moved the money? And filed for bankruptcy yourself?"

My head was forced back against the wall. The pressure on my windpipe was suffocating, but I kept my gaze locked on hers.

"That's right."

"Your money, Ms. Delgado. I found it too dirty to keep."

Her grip tightened.

"You're asking to die!"

I forced a smile through the choking.

"Then kill me."

"Kill me, and you'll never see that money again."

Sarah released me.

I slid down the wall and crumpled to the floor, clutching my throat, coughing violently.

She crouched down and gripped my face between her fingers.

"Roland, you think you can run?"

"Your father's ashes are still at the cemetery. Try me. I'll have someone scatter them by tomorrow."

I couldn't stop shaking.

In my last life, she'd used my father's ashes as leverage to force me into donating bone marrow to Simon.

I lunged forward and slapped her across the face as hard as I could.

"Sarah, you're an animal!"

Her head snapped to the side. She ran her tongue along the inside of her struck cheek.

When she turned back to me, her face was a mask of fury.

"Good hit."

"Since you refuse to behave, don't blame me for what comes next."

She stood and made a call.

"Cancel Roland's flight. Freeze every bank account under his name."

"And send someone to the cemetery. Keep watch."

After she hung up, she looked down at me from above.

"Starting today, you don't go anywhere without my permission."

I was placed under complete house arrest. She confiscated my phone and all my documents.

Every day, I was locked inside the villa with nowhere to go.

She went to the office during the day and came home at night to torture me in new and creative ways.

At meals, she had the housekeeper prepare dishes she knew made me sick. At night, she cranked the air conditioning down to its lowest setting and let me freeze.

Eventually, she started bringing Simon home.

They'd hold each other, kiss, touch—right in front of me.

"Sarah, Mr. Kaufman is watching," Simon murmured, nestling against her.

Sarah spared me a passing glance.

"He's just a disobedient toy. Ignore him."

I sat on the couch and watched their little performance. It didn't stir a single ripple inside me.

If anything, I found it laughable.

In my previous life, I'd been kept in the dark, drowning in agony. Now all I felt was disgust.

I stood up to head back to my room.

Simon called out to me.

"Mr. Kaufman, could you pour me a glass of water?"

I didn't bother acknowledging him and kept walking.

Sarah's voice cracked like a whip.

"Stop."

"Simon asked you to pour him water. Are you deaf?"

I paused and turned around.

"You dragged me back to marry you. Was it so I could be your servant?"

Sarah closed the distance in two strides, grabbed a fistful of my hair, and wrenched my head back.

"Husband?" she sneered.

"You think you deserve that title?"

"Roland, I married you for one reason—to make you suffer."

"Your father destroyed Simon's family. Ruined everything he had. That debt falls on you."

I froze.

My father destroyed Simon's family?

That was absurd. My father ran a clean business. He would never have hurt anyone.

"That's bullshit!"

I thrashed against her grip.

Sarah shoved me away.

"Deny it all you want."

"Either way, you'll spend the rest of your life paying for it."

She turned to Simon, her voice softening instantly.

"Simon, how would you like to punish him?"

Simon stared at me.

"Sarah, I've been getting dizzy a lot lately. The doctor says I'm anemic."

"Why don't we have Mr. Kaufman donate some blood?"

Sarah agreed without hesitation.

"Done."

She called in a private doctor. Several people pinned me down on the table and drew a full eight hundred milliliters of blood.

My vision went black. Cold seeped through every inch of my body. I collapsed on the floor, too weak to even lift a finger.

Sarah looked down at me. There wasn't a shred of pity in her eyes.

"This is just the beginning."

"Roland, everything you owe Simon—I'm going to take it back from you. Piece by piece."

For days after the blood draw, my fever refused to break.

Sarah wouldn't allow a doctor. She only had the housekeeper force bitter herbal concoctions down my throat each day.

I was too weak to get out of bed.

Simon, on the other hand, made a habit of coming to my room to gloat.

"Roland, you really are pathetic right now."

He traced a finger along my cheek.

"Sarah doesn't love you. She never did. Every time she touches you, it makes her skin crawl."

"Your wedding night? She actually..."

He paused on purpose, covering his mouth as a giggle slipped out.

"She actually hired a streetwalker to keep you company."

"Too bad you ran off before you got to enjoy it."

I opened my eyes and fixed them on him.

Even though I already knew the truth, hearing it spoken aloud still turned my stomach.

I forced myself upright and slapped him across the face.

"Get out!"

Simon yelped and tumbled to the floor.

Footsteps sounded outside the door. Sarah rushed in.

The moment she saw Simon on the ground, the color drained from her face. She dropped to her knees beside him.

"Simon, are you okay?"

Simon clutched his cheek, tears streaming down.

"Sarah, I just felt sorry for Mr. Kaufman. I only came to check on him."