INICIAR SESIÓN"Elena, please. I made a mistake. We can start over—" My ex-husband was on his knees in my penthouse, tears streaming down his face. The same man who pushed me down the stairs. Who murdered my unborn daughters. Who watched me die. I looked at him—really looked at him—and felt nothing. "You want to apologize?" My voice was steady. Cold. "You should have thought of that before you killed our babies." His face crumpled. "Elena—" "It's too late to apologise." ★★★ When Damien pushed me down the stairs, I died knowing he'd destroyed me. My cheating husband and my best friend—his pregnant mistress—stood over my bleeding body and smiled. But death gave me a gift: I woke up three days before he destroyed my life. This time, I wouldn't be his victim. This time, I exposed his affair at our gender reveal party. Served him divorce papers in front of everyone. Took back everything he stole. Then Calloway Sterling appeared—the ruthless billionaire CEO my ex feared most. Six feet of dangerous power with storm-gray eyes. "Marry me. One year. He'll never touch you again." A contract marriage. Just revenge. Until Calloway's possessive touches felt too real. Until a paternity test proved he was my baby's father—not my ex-husband. "Three months ago, you went to a fertility clinic," Calloway told me. "The sample wasn't your ex-husband's. It was mine."
Ver másThe attack came in the shower. I'd been in holding for three days. Three days of cold concrete, stale food, and sleepless nights counting ceiling tiles. Thomas had warned me to stay alert. To watch my back. But I hadn't expected it so soon. The communal shower was empty when I entered. Just me and the sound of running water echoing off tile walls. I should have known better. I was rinsing shampoo from my hair when I heard footsteps. Heavy. Deliberate. I turned. Three women blocked the exit. All older. Harder. With scars and tattoos that told stories of violence. "You're Sterling's wife," the tallest one said. Not a question. I backed against the wall. "I don't want trouble." "Too bad. Trouble found you." She moved closer. Water from the showerhead sprayed
The holding cell was cold. Sterile. Gray concrete walls and metal benches that dug into my spine. I sat alone. Handcuffs removed but the weight of them still felt present on my wrists. They'd separated us immediately. Calloway in one cell. Me in another. No communication. No explanation beyond the charges read at Marcus's apartment. Fraud. Conspiracy. The words echoed in my head. A female officer appeared at the bars. "Mrs. Sterling. You have a visitor." "My lawyer?" "CPS caseworker." My blood went cold. "What?" The officer unlocked the cell. Led me down a hallway to a small interview room. A woman sat at the metal table. Middle-aged. Kind eyes but firm expression. A manila folder in front of her. "Mrs. Sterling. I'm Jennifer Hayes fr
I couldn't hold it in anymore. The weight of the secret. The lies. The constant fear that someone would discover the truth. Gregory already knew. Or suspected. And now Calloway was asking questions I couldn't deflect. "I died." The words came out barely above a whisper. Calloway went still. "What?" "At the gender reveal party. In my previous timeline. Damien pushed me down the stairs." My voice shook. "I bled out at the bottom. Watched him and Sienna stand there and do nothing. And then everything went black." He stared at me. Silent. Processing. "When I woke up, I was in bed. Three days before the party. Three days before it all happened." Tears streamed down my face. "I thought I was going crazy. But the date was real. The calendar was real. Everything was exactly as it had been three days earlier."
The silence in the conference room stretched too long. Every eye was on me. Waiting. Judging. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard." I forced my voice to stay steady. "Time travel? Are we in a science fiction novel, Mr. Winters?" Gregory's smile didn't waver. "Then explain the inconsistencies." "There are no inconsistencies. I did my research. I hired investigators. I protected myself." I looked directly at Judge Morrison. "Mr. Winters is grasping at straws because he knows the evidence against him is overwhelming. So he's resorted to conspiracy theories." "Conspiracy theories based on witness testimony," Davidson interjected. "Multiple people have reported your impossible knowledge—" "Multiple people who are either in prison or facing charges themselves." Thomas stood. "Damien Anderson is a murderer. Natasha Winters is ment












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