Scarlett’s POV.
I died on my wedding night.
Not figuratively. Not the way love poets say it—some aching metaphor for heartbreak. I mean literally, as in stabbed to death in my wedding dress.
And the man who did it—my husband.
I never saw it coming, which is what makes this all so sick. Being killed by the person I loved most in the world—there’s no words for that kind of betrayal. I gave him everything. Trusted him with every deepest part of me. Turns out, I loved the wrong person…
The ink hadn’t even dried on the marriage contract. My veil was still pinned into my hair.
My heels hadn’t clicked across our polished floor for more than five minutes when I opened the door to our bedroom—and stopped cold.
There he was, my husband. His body moved in a slow, punishing rhythm, buried deep inside my half-sister.
Dahlia was moaning, fingers tangled in his hair, her back arched in pleasure—on our bed, in our sheets, under the soft light of the chandelier we’d picked out together.
Her bridesmaid dress lay crumpled on the floor like discarded skin, the pale satin catching the same warm light that had once made me feel safe.
Her eyes locked on mine, glassy with lust and victory.
The breath punched out of my lungs. My body went numb before the pain could fully register like my mind was trying to delay the devastation.
My heart pounded against my ribs, each beat screaming louder than the last. The walls felt like they were closing in, the room shrinking as bile rose in my throat.
I couldn’t even hear myself when I spoke. My voice cracked, barely a breath. “What… what are you doing?”
Caden looked up—calm, bored, like I was interrupting a nap. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t scramble or apologize like a normal man would—should—in this kind of situation.
Dahlia blinked, sweat-slicked and smug, a smile tugging at her kiss-swollen lips. “Isn’t it obvious?” she said, voice purring like poison.
My half-sister—no, the parasite in my bloodline—smirked at me like the villain she always was.
My bouquet dropped from my hand, forgotten. The sound it made when it hit the floor was soft—unlike the crack spreading through my chest.
Caden pulled out of her slowly, with a lazy sort of carelessness, and reached for his pants like nothing had happened.
“I married you for my grandmother,” he said, fastening his belt with a sharp snap. His eyes raked over me with icy contempt as he added, “That’s all you’re good for. She adored you. You made her happy. That was all it took to smooth things over with the lawyers and seal up my claim to Uncle Leon’s inheritance.”
Dahlia stretched languidly across the bed, the sheet draped around her like some conquering queen. “Honestly, Scarlett,” she sighed mockingly, “you never really thought he loved you, did you?”
I stumbled back a step. My veil caught on the doorframe, yanking my head like fate itself refused to let me escape this humiliation.
“You’re disgusting,” I spat, voice trembling with fury. “Both of you. A coward with a silver spoon and a filthy, faithless wreck who spreads her legs for scraps—just like your homewrecker mother.”
I turned on Dahlia, venom rising. “You’ve always done this. Always take what’s mine—my toys, my friends, my dreams. And now my husband? What, couldn’t find your own man to destroy, so you came for mine too?”
Dahlia shoved Caden away with a roll of her eyes and a cruel smile curling her lips. “I’m not done yet, Scarlett. I’ll take everything from you—just like I always have.”
“You think?” I was not about to back away from this so easily. “You’ll never be more than a consolation prize in someone else's story. Not the first choice. Not ever.”
Dahlia’s smile cracked. The bitch couldn’t handle the truth. Of course not—she’d never been denied anything in her life. Not affection. Not luxury. Not men.
She lunged at me, wild and unhinged. Her nails slashed across my cheek, slicing it open. I cried out, stumbling backward, my hand hitting the dresser.
“How dare you!” she shrieked, launching herself at me again.
We crashed into a side table. A lamp toppled and shattered. Glass cut into the heel of my bare foot. I fell hard. My elbow cracked against the wood floor. Dahlia was on me in seconds—punches flying, tearing at my hair, ripping the neckline of my dress.
Caden just watched, arms crossed to his chest, completely detached. Like I was a show he’d already seen—and never liked or cared for.
That’s when I saw it—the knife in Dahlia’s hand. The same one we used to cut the wedding cake. Still streaked with frosting.
My breath caught.
A plate sat on the nightstand. Half-eaten slice of cake. My wedding cake. She’d helped herself to it before she helped herself to my husband.
God help me. Was it possible to shake with rage and terror at once?
Absolutely.
I tried to crawl backward, but my dress tangled around my legs. My vision blurred. My lungs stuttered for air.
“Don’t—”
One slash.
A scream tore from my throat—raw and broken. Pain exploded through me. My knees buckled. I crumpled into a pool of silk and blood.
Dahlia’s eyes glittered as she looked down at the bloody knife in her hand, voice syrupy sweet. “Once you’re dead, Scarlett, everything your mother built becomes mine. The contracts. The board. The legacy. It all transfers to me.” Her lips curled. “That’s why you have to die.”
Then Caden’s voice came—low, lazy, and devoid of feeling. “She’s right. You’re useless now. And worse… you know too much.”
The first thing I felt was rage.
Not fear.
Rage.
But it didn’t end there.
Caden yanked me by the arm, hauling me to my knees like I was trash. My blood smeared across his shirt. He winced, like I’d ruined something expensive.
“Give me the knife,” he said to Dahlia. “Time to finish this.”
She laughed—a high, triumphant sound. Then she grabbed me by the hair and dragged me across the rug. My gown ripped. My skin burned. My sobs came in broken bursts.
“You always thought you were better than me,” Dahlia hisses, lips brushing my ear. “But look at you now. Pathetic. Unwanted. Alone.”
Then she slaps me—hard. My head snaps to the side. Before I can recover, her hand clamps around my throat, fingers like iron. I choke, clawing at her wrist, but she doesn’t budge.
Caden crouches beside me, watching with cold detachment. He takes the knife from Dahlia like this is all routine.
I thrash, nails sinking into Dahlia’s arm, but she doesn’t even flinch.
Then Caden tilts his head, something sly flashing in his eyes. “You know, Scarlett… you were the perfect pawn. Without you, I never would’ve gotten access to Leon’s fortune.”
My blood ran cold. “You think Leon will let you keep it?” I rasped. “He’ll change the will. He’ll cut you out—”
Caden chuckled. A low, mocking sound. “Leon’s dead.”
I stopped breathing.
“No,” I whispered. He was our wedding officiant. I saw him a few hours ago. “You’re lying. You’re—”
“He died on his way home,” Caden said, grinning. “Plane accident.”
Dahlia giggled, “The timing is incredible, isn’t it?”
Caden smirked, his eyes gleaming with triumph. There’s something off in how thrilled he looks—too bright, too intense, like he’s buzzing beneath his skin. “You’re useless now,” he added. “Just dead weight.”
I looked at them—two monsters, blurred through the veil of tears and blood—and something inside me broke loose.
Grief and disbelief crushed me. My heart shattered beneath the weight of it.
I screamed without sound, my mind a violent storm.
Please.
If anything out there is listening—
Give me another chance.
Let me fix this.
Caden raised the knife.
I clenched my fists, blood-slick and trembling. My voice cracked. “Y-you’ll r-regret this.”
His grin widened as the blade plunged again.
Darkness rushed in, thick and swallowing.
My body gave in. But my soul—my soul screamed louder.
I loved him. I’d trusted her.
They used me.
Broke me.
My vision tunneled. I saw them—two twisted silhouettes, blurred by blood and betrayal.
And then I saw him. A flicker of smoke shaped like a man, standing just beyond the carnage.
Leon.
Standing just beyond them. My breath hitched. “I’m so, so sorry, Leon.”
Then… something shifted. The world blurred.
Give me one more chance. I would definitely…not fall in love with Caden!
My hatred burned bright enough to chase it all away—the fear, the pain, the darkness trying to swallow me whole.
The two of them became distorted like a lantern slide in reverse—colors draining, edges bending backward. A clock hand ticked behind my eyes. Not forward.
Back.
Please…Just one.
I won’t make the same mistake again.
Not anymore.
My chest convulsed. Faint sounds reached my ears.
“Say…Yes! Yes!”
What? Who's speaking?
A gasp clawed into my lungs like the first breath after drowning.
My eyes flew open to a crowd of strangers yelling, “Say yes!”
Wait. What?
There were roses—everywhere. Champagne flutes clinked. Cameras flashed like lightning in a storm. And there he was. Caden. Down on one knee in front of me, holding out a diamond that hadn’t yet become my death sentence.
Why did all of this seem so familiar?
The voices around me swelled, chanting louder now. “Say yes! Say yes!”
For a few seconds, I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. I blinked rapidly, trying to force the image to change, certain this had to be some twisted afterlife reel—my own personal hell, looping on repeat.
But nothing shifted.
Caden’s voice broke through the daze, smooth and confident—“Say yes already, babe. My knees are killing me.”
And that’s when it hit me.
I’ve been reborn.
I really have a second chance.
I was back.
Alive.
Seeing everything in front of me and Caden's fake face, I clench my fists.
This time…
It was the start of my revenge.
Scarlett’s POV.“Very well,” Leon inclined his head. “I’ll arrange it.”I paused, slightly surprised he agreed. “You mean it?”He nodded again, already pulling his phone from his pocket. “I’ll notify HR this afternoon. You’ll start next week.”I straightened. “That fast?”“You said you needed money,” he explained. “No point in waiting.”A quiet sense of relief passed through me. I didn’t want to sit around this estate another day feeling like dead weight. I didn’t want to keep depending on his protection like it was charity. And more than that—I didn’t want to keep feeling like someone who was waiting to be discarded.“Thank you,” I said again. More genuinely this time.He studied me for a moment. “You’re really this happy about working?”I gave him a look. “You thought I’d rather sit around polishing my nails?”His mouth twitched, almost a smile, but not quite. “You won’t be doing much.”“Why not?”“You’re pregnant,” he pointed out.“I’m not fragile.”“I didn’t say you were. But I’m
Scarlett’s POV.For once, my father had nothing to say. My stepmother stood frozen beside him, her eyes wide.There was a long pause of silence before my father cleared his throat and adjusted the cuff of his jacket, pretending to recover. “Well… since this is all moving so quickly,” he spoke stiffly, “we should go back and prepare.”“For what exactly?” I asked flatly.He didn’t answer. He just gave Leon a shallow nod and turned toward the door, dragging my stepmother with him.Her heels clicked behind him, and she turned once more. “You’ve grown very bold, Scarlett,” she said quietly. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” she added before finally stepping outside.I made the decision not to respond.The door shut behind them. Their absence left behind a hollow silence.I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.“They won’t give up that easily,” I muttered, then turned to Leon. “Still… thank you. For helping me again.”He didn’t answer right away.When I met his eyes, somet
Scarlett’s POV.The silence that followed stretched long enough to make everyone in the room feel the weight of it.I hadn’t even looked at Leon when I said it.I didn’t dare.But I felt the subtle shift in his presence—so slight anyone else would’ve missed it. His posture hadn’t changed. His expression didn’t falter. But the heat behind my ears told me something had.He was shocked.Of course he was.We hadn’t discussed marriage. We hadn’t discussed anything beyond the surface-level lie he would assist in that I was keeping up. I didn’t even know where he stood anymore—whether he was protecting me out of guilt, out of spite, or because he truly gave a damn.But I didn’t care in that moment.This wasn’t about him.This was about making my father finally pay. The man who had never raised me, never defended my mother, never acknowledged me unless it made him look good. The man who chose convenience and luxury over blood, every single time.My stepmother was the first to speak. Her voice
Scarlett’s POV.I wasn’t sure what stunned me more—that Leon showed up when he did, or that he actually went along with it.My father’s face twitched like a man trying to keep hold of two masks at once. He opened his mouth, probably to salvage the disaster he’d just caused, but I didn’t give him the chance.I turned toward Leon and said calmly, “My father wants me to apologize to our nephew.”Leon didn’t blink.My father shot me a glare, before his expression shattered—steadying a gentle look on Leon instead. “N-no, Mr. Rosenthal, I—of course not—I never meant—”He stepped forward with a strained smile, his mouth shaking nervously as he spoke. “Please forgive me. My words just now were out of anger. I respect your choices, of course—your… relationships.”Leon raised an eyebrow. “You mean my sexuality?”My father froze.Leon added, “Because I believe you were just saying, rather loudly, that I’m gay, and Scarlett was a disgrace for staying here.”The color drained from my father’s face
Scarlett’s POV.I had been living at Leon’s estate for a few days. The peace had a way of wrapping around me, and without constant pressure, I found myself… resting.Really resting.My appetite came back. The nausea faded. My body didn’t ache the way it used to. The dark circles under my eyes had lightened. The sharp jabs of anxiety that used to hit me in waves—gone. I didn’t know if it was the food, the bed, or the sheer fact that no one here was treating me like I was disposable. Maybe all of it.But it felt temporary. Like I was borrowing time.These days were too calm. No opportunities had come up to act on anything I’d planned. Leon had been distant again, keeping to his study or out on business, and the longer I stayed here doing nothing, the more I started to feel like a kept woman.That wasn’t part of the plan.And worse—my money was running out.Everything I had saved from working was nearly gone. If I didn’t find something soon, I’d have no backup, no leverage, no way out if
Scarlett’s POV.I paused at the threshold of the room.The coldness in the space said enough.We weren’t close. Not really. Not in a way that counted.If Leon were going through something, I couldn’t simply expect him to open up to me—could I?But his tone when he told me to get out…It was harsh. A little too harsh.All I wanted to do was to be helpful.The silence stretched between us, heavy and raw. He didn’t look at me. Just sat there with his elbows on his desk, head down, the muscles in his neck drawn tight.I suppose it was what it was. I turned to leave.But before I reached the door, I glanced back one more time—and that’s when I saw it.It wasn’t anger drawn tight across his expression.It was distress. Pain, even.The kind people didn’t show unless they thought no one was watching.I sighed under my breath and walked back in.Leon didn’t look at me, but I saw the way his jaw shifted slightly, like the words hit somewhere.I hesitated for a second longer, then crossed the roo