Agony ripped through my abdomen. I gripped the metal bedrails, my knuckles turning white under the harsh fluorescent lights of the delivery room. The pain was absolute, tearing through my muscles and leaving me panting for air.

"Push, Victoria, push!" Dr. Evans ordered from the end of the bed.

"Where is Daniel?" I screamed, thrashing against the damp sheets. "I need my husband!"

"He is right outside," the nurse said. She dabbed my forehead with a wet cloth. "Focus on the baby."

The contraction faded, leaving my body limp. The heavy wooden door stood an inch ajar. Through the narrow crack, Daniel's voice drifted into the room. Cold. Detached.

"Make sure it happens," he said.

Another male voice murmured something low and indistinguishable.

"I do not care about the medical ethics," Daniel replied, his tone hardening. "This child cannot live. She must be exactly like Zoe."

The words paralyzed me. The tearing pain in my stomach vanished, instantly replaced by an icy terror.

Zoe.

His first love. The woman who died five years ago. The woman who bled out in a delivery room just like this one, taking her unborn baby to the grave with her.

My mind raced, connecting the horrifying dots. All these years, his gentle touches, his soft smiles, the way he brushed my hair behind my ear—none of it was for me. It was for the ghost staring back at him through my eyes.

"Daniel!" I shrieked. My voice tore through my throat, raw and desperate. "Daniel, get in here!"

The door swung open.

Daniel stood there, his tailored suit immaculate, his expression completely blank. He looked at me as if I were a stranger on the street, not his wife of three years carrying his child.

"What did you just say?" I demanded, pushing myself up on my elbows. "What did you tell them to do to my baby?"

He walked closer, stopping at the edge of the bed. He kept his hands in his pockets.

"Lie down, Victoria," he instructed. "The doctors know what to do."

"I heard you!" Tears blurred my vision, spilling hot and fast down my cheeks. "You want our baby to die? Because of Zoe?"

He didn't flinch. "Zoe lost her child. She lost her life. It is only fair."

"Fair?" I spat. I grabbed a pillow and hurled it at him. It bounced harmlessly off his chest. "I am not her replacement! I am your wife!"

Daniel tilted his head. A cruel, empty smile touched his lips. "If Zoe had lived back then, I never would have fallen in love with you."

The fetal monitor beeped rapidly, matching my racing heart.

"Three years, Daniel," I cried. "Three years of marriage. Was any of it real?"

"You played your part perfectly," he replied.

"When I was sick last winter, you stayed by my bed for three days! Was that for Zoe?"

"Zoe hated being alone when she had a fever."

"And our anniversary? The necklace you gave me?"

"Zoe's favorite gemstone was sapphire."

The revelations hit me like physical blows. Every memory I cherished was tainted. Every kiss was a lie.

"You are sick," I whispered.

"I am loyal," he corrected.

"Then why not just let me go?" I sobbed, pointing a shaking finger toward the door. "Divorce me. Let me raise the child on my own. You never have to see us again."

"Because Zoe didn't get to walk away," he snapped, his voice finally losing its calm veneer. "Zoe died on a table just like this one. She screamed just like you are screaming. She bled out while the doctors tried to save a baby that was already dead."

"That isn't my fault!"

"It is the price!" he roared, slamming his hand against the wall. The nurses jumped. "You get her face, you get her life, you pay her price!"

"You used me. You married me because I look like her. And now you want to recreate her death?"

"You get to live," Daniel pointed out, his tone

The wind whipped saltwater against my face. I stood at the edge of the wooden pier, wrapping my coat tighter around my empty stomach. My baby was dead. The doctors had wheeled me out of the hospital this morning, handing me a stack of discharge papers instead of a child.

Footsteps sounded on the planks behind me.

"Victoria," a male voice called out.

I turned. It wasn't my husband. It was Mark, Daniel's assistant. He held a thick manila envelope against his chest, shielding it from the misty sea breeze.

"Where is he?" I asked.

"Mr. Miller is at the office," Mark replied. He extended the envelope toward me. "He asked me to bring you these."

"Divorce papers," I stated. I kept my hands in my pockets.

"He already signed his portion." Mark shifted his weight. "He said there is no need to drag this out."

I stared at the brown paper. "I built a multi-million dollar beauty brand from scratch. I had distribution contracts with top retailers. I threw it all away."

"People change careers," Mark offered weakly.

"I didn't change careers," I snapped. "I walked away from a Sephora deal for him. I shut down my entire cosmetics lab. I fired my best friend. I locked myself in his mansion to be the perfect wife, all while he used me to recreate his dead girlfriend's tragedy."

"Mr. Miller compensated your staff," Mark countered, his tone defensive. "He gave you a comfortable life. You never had to work another day."

"I never wanted to be a kept woman. I wanted to be a partner!"

My phone buzzed in my coat pocket. Then it buzzed again. And again.

*Ping. Ping. Ping.*

I pulled the device out. A flood of notifications lit up the screen. They were messages from an automated company number. I opened the first one.

It was a photo of Daniel kissing Zoe's cheek on a sailboat. Below it, a screenshot of an old text thread.

*Zoe, you are my only forever.*

Another picture loaded. Daniel standing over Zoe's grave, holding the exact same sapphire necklace he gave me for our first wedding anniversary.

"Who is sending these?" I demanded, shoving the screen toward Mark.

Mark glanced at the phone and quickly looked down at his shoes. "The IT department. Mr. Miller ordered Zoe's digital memorial to be broadcast to his private network today. Your number is still on the administrative list."

A harsh, jagged laugh tore from my throat. I didn't cry. The tears were completely gone, replaced by a burning, furious amusement.

"He couldn't wait one day," I said, my voice echoing over the crashing waves.

"Give me a pen," I ordered.

Mark hurriedly pulled a silver fountain pen from his jacket.

I snatched the envelope from him, pressed it against the damp wooden railing, and slashed my name across the bottom line. I didn't read the terms. I didn't care about the money or the assets.

I shoved the folder back into his chest. "Tell him he can keep the house."

I dialed Daniel's number. He picked up on the second ring.

"Did you sign them?" Daniel's voice crackled through the speaker, devoid of any warmth.

"I saw the photos," I said, keeping my eyes fixed on the gray horizon. "The digital memorial. The cloud backups. The necklace."

"Then you understand why this is necessary," he replied. "The settlement is generous. You will be taken care of."

My eyes burned red, but a wide smile stretched across my face.

"Daniel," I said, my voice cutting through the roar of the ocean. "This time, I am the one abandoning you."

I didn't wait for his response. I ended the call and hurled the phone into the churning water below.

"Goodbye, Mark," I said.

Mark turned and hurried down the pier, eager to escape the gathering storm.

Lightning fractured the sky. Rain began to slam into the pier, turning the wooden boards slick and treacherous.

I took a step toward the shore. My heel slid on a patch of wet algae.

My arms flailed, grasping for the safety railing. My fingers brushed the wet metal, but I missed.

Gravity yanked me backward. The freezing ocean rushed up to meet me. Saltwater flooded my mouth, choking my screams instantly. The heavy winter coat dragged me down into the suffocating darkness.

***

Air punched into my lungs. I bolted upright, gasping and clawing at my throat.

"Hey! Are you okay?" a bright voice asked.

I blinked against the sudden, warm light. I wasn't drowning. I wasn't in the hospital. I wasn't at the beach.

I was sitting on the worn velvet sofa in my old starter apartment.

My best friend and business partner, Chloe, stood over me holding a makeup brush.

"You totally spaced out," Chloe said, waving the brush in my face. "We have the launch party for the new lip-gloss line in an hour. You need to get dressed."

"Launch party?" I whispered. My voice wasn't raw anymore. My stomach didn't ache.

I pushed past her and stumbled into the cramped bathroom. I gripped the edges of the porcelain sink and stared into the mirror.

Round cheeks. Bright skin. No dark circles under my eyes. I looked twenty-two.

"Victoria, seriously, what is wrong with you?" Chloe called from the living room. "Did the flowers freak you out?"

I walked back out. On the glass coffee table sat a massive arrangement of red roses.

I knew those roses. Seven years ago. The night of my first major product launch. The night Daniel Miller walked into my life.

I walked over to the table and reached into the velvet petals. I pulled out the small, gold-embossed card.

*To Victoria. Let me take you to dinner. - Daniel.*

My hands didn't shake. The crushing despair from the pier evaporated, leaving behind a cold, sharp clarity.

I looked at the flowers, then at Chloe.

"Throw them in the trash," I said.

Chloe's jaw dropped. "Are you insane? Do you know how much a bouquet like this costs? And it's from Daniel Miller! The tech billionaire!"

"I don't care who he is," I replied.

"He is the biggest investor in the city," Chloe argued, rushing over to protect the vase. "If Daniel Miller wants to take you to dinner, you go to dinner. He could fund our entire national expansion."

"He will destroy us," I said.

"Destroy us? He sent you two dozen imported roses! He's been trying to get your attention for a month."

"And he will stop today." I plucked the card from my fingers and ripped it in half.

I dropped the torn pieces onto the floor.

"In this life, I will not love you again," I said softly.

My cell phone rang on the kitchen counter. The caller ID flashed Daniel's name.

"Don't answer that," I warned.

Chloe lunged for the phone. "It's him! It's actually him!"

"Hang up, Chloe."

"Victoria, we need this funding!" She swiped the screen and brought the phone to her ear. "Hello, Mr. Miller?"

I marched across the kitchen, ready to snatch the device from her hand, but Chloe's expression suddenly dropped. All the color drained from her face.

"What?" Chloe whispered into the receiver. "Are you sure?"

She lowered the phone slowly, staring at me with wide, terrified eyes.

"Chloe, what did he say?" I demanded.

"That wasn't Daniel," she stammered. "That was the police."

"What did the police say?" I demanded, crossing the kitchen in three strides.

Chloe’s hands shook as she lowered the phone. "His driver hit the utility pole outside our building. Daniel is down there right now. He wanted to make sure your flowers arrived safely."

I grabbed my coat from the back of the chair.

"Victoria, wait!" Chloe called out, chasing me to the door. "What are you going to do?"

"I am going to say thank you," I replied.

I hurried down the stairwell and pushed open the heavy glass doors of the lobby.

A sleek black town car sat parked at an awkward angle on the curb. The front bumper pressed against a dented streetlamp.

Daniel stood on the sidewalk. His tailored charcoal suit looked flawless under the streetlights. No blood. No injuries. He looked exactly like the monster who had ordered my baby’s death.

"Victoria," he said. His voice wrapped around my name like a warm blanket.

I forced my muscles to relax. I needed him to believe I was falling for his act. I needed to study him.

"Are you alright?" I asked, keeping my tone light and concerned.

"Just a minor detour." He stepped away from the damaged car and closed the distance between us. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small, silver-wrapped box. "I wanted to give you this in person."

I took the box. I didn't need to open it to know what rested inside. The faint scent of jasmine and white musk lingered on the ribbon. *Fleur de Lune.* My signature perfume from my past life.

"You shouldn't have," I said.

"A woman I knew used to love this scent," Daniel murmured.

His eyes darkened. He stared at my face, but he wasn't looking at me. He was looking right through me.

"Zoe," he whispered. "She had an exceptional eye for beauty."

There it was. The flash of obsession. The ghost he wanted me to play. Seven years ago, I thought he was just sharing a painful memory. Now, I recognized the madness hiding behind his gentle smile.

"I will treasure it," I lied.

"I can send another car," Daniel offered. "We can still make our dinner reservation."

"It has been a long day," I said, stepping backward toward the lobby doors. "I need to rest. But I will see you at the investment gala tonight."

Daniel’s expression stiffened for a fraction of a second before smoothing into a perfect smile. "I will look for you."

***

"You are going to ruin the batch," Chloe argued.

I poured the crushed pearl extract into the glass mixing bowl. "Watch the consistency."

She peered over my shoulder. "Wow. It binds perfectly."

"We aren't making cheap lip-gloss anymore," I said. I set the beaker down and wiped my hands on a towel. "We are building a high-end line. I need this prototype ready for the gala tonight."

"Daniel is going to fund us," Chloe insisted. "Why are you pushing yourself so hard? Just let him write the check."

"I am not taking his money."

"Are you crazy?" Chloe yelled. "He is the biggest tech investor in the city!"

"His terms require too much control," I countered. "I am not going to be his pet project. I am going to pitch to his rivals."

Chloe threw her hands up. "You are going to make him furious."

"Good," I said.

***

The ballroom buzzed with wealthy investors and socialites. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the crowd.

Daniel found me near the entrance. He immediately reached for my hand.

"You look stunning," he said.

I pulled my fingers away and grabbed a champagne flute from a passing waiter's tray. "Thank you. Have you seen the representatives from Holt Retail?"

"Don't worry about business tonight," Daniel urged, stepping closer. "Let me introduce you to my inner circle."

"Mr. Miller!" a loud voice boomed from the left. A group of older executives waved him over.

"Give me one moment," Daniel said. His jaw tightened in annoyance. He shot a warning glare at the executives before walking away.

I turned my back to him and faced the bar.

A tall man in a navy velvet blazer stood next to me. He pointed at the leather portfolio tucked under my arm.

"You guard that like it holds nuclear launch codes," the man noted.

"It holds my future," I replied.

He laughed. "Igor Belmont."

"Victoria."

"I know who you are." Igor took a sip of his drink. "You are the girl turning down Daniel Miller's exclusive funding offers. The whole room is talking about it."

"Let them talk."

"Why reject him?" Igor asked, tilting his head.

"I prefer to steer my own ship," I said. I met his gaze directly. "His money comes with invisible strings. I am looking for a partner, not a dictator."

Igor’s eyes lit up with genuine interest. "Most people would kill for his backing. You are playing a dangerous game, Victoria, using his gala invites to pitch to his rivals."

"Are you a rival, Mr. Belmont?"

"I am an opportunist." He set his glass down on the marble counter. "Victoria, a truly smart woman doesn't need to depend on any man. Let me see the portfolio."

I handed the leather folder to him. He opened it and flipped through the first three pages, nodding slowly.

"What is going on here?" Daniel's voice sliced through the music.

He stepped between Igor and me. His shoulders squared, blocking my view of the room.

"Victoria and I are discussing cosmetics," Igor said smoothly, tapping the open folder.

"Victoria doesn't need outside investors," Daniel snapped. He reached for my waist.

I sidestepped, letting his hand grasp empty air.

"Actually, Daniel, I do," I said.

Daniel stared at me. A muscle feathered in his cheek. Pure panic flashed in his eyes, quickly masked by rising anger. He wasn't in control, and the realization terrified him.

"We already discussed this," Daniel insisted, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "I am handling your brand."

"You are handling your own investments," I corrected. "Igor is reviewing my formulas."

Igor closed the folder and handed it back to me. "I am very impressed, Victoria. Call my office tomorrow morning. We will set up a formal meeting."

"Thank you, Mr. Belmont," I said.

Daniel glared at Igor. "She won't be calling."

"I will," I promised.

I turned away from both of them. "Excuse me. I need to use the restroom."

I didn't wait for Daniel to argue. I walked quickly across the ballroom, pushing through the heavy oak doors of the women's lounge.

Silence greeted me. The thick walls blocked out the noise of the party.

I walked over to the marble sinks and turned on the cold water. I pressed my wet fingers against my temples, washing away the tension. Daniel's reaction confirmed everything. He needed me isolated. He needed me dependent.

A stall door clicked open behind me.

Footsteps tapped against the tile floor.

"Do you have a tissue?" a soft, melodic voice asked.

I grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser and held it out.

I looked up into the wide mirror above the sinks.

The paper towel slipped from my fingers, fluttering to the wet floor.

The woman standing behind me had pale skin, large doe eyes, and a small, heart-shaped birthmark just below her left collarbone.

Zoe.

"Thank you," she said, bending down to pick up the fallen towel.

My heart slammed against my ribs. I couldn't speak. I couldn't move.

She wasn't a ghost. She wasn't a memory.

Zoe was alive.