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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.Six months later…The dressing room erupted into the kind of chaos that could’ve easily counted as a natural disaster. Ribbons flew everywhere and perfume practically choked the air. Someone was crying somewhere. Someone else was shouting. The energy pulsed through the walls like the building itself was alive and panicking right along with us.I sat in front of a glowing vanity mirror, trying to steady my breath while brushing the last sweep of blush along my cheekbones. My reflection stared back at me—calm on the surface, even though every woman in the room was seconds away from losing her mind.Helena raced past behind me, arms loaded with fabric swatches I didn’t remember approving. “Scarlett, I swear the florist mixed the order! These lilies are too white. I didn’t even know that was possible but look at them! They’re aggressively white. Miriam is going to have a fit.”“Helena,” I murmured with a sigh, “they’re fine.”“They’re judging white,” she insisted before st
Scarlett’s POV.Leila’s tiny fingers curled around the edge of her onesie as I slipped her arm through the sleeve, her warm skin soft beneath my palms. She cooed at me, her little chest rising and falling in calm, steady breaths. The sound sent a wave of gratitude through me so fierce it nearly buckled my knees. Three weeks ago, I watched her fight for her life. Now she was kicking at me, impatient, as though she couldn’t stand another second of being still.James lay on the bed beside her, wiggling his legs so dramatically that his socks kept sliding off. I had already put them back on. Twice.“Why do you hate socks?” I muttered at him.He responded with a loud, enthusiastic gurgle.I was in the middle of pulling his sock back up for a third time when my phone buzzed. I grabbed it quickly, balancing James between my knees.“Miss Lemaire,” Ezra’s voice came through, clipped and formal as always. “Miss Olivia and Miss Helena are here to visit you.”Before I could respond, Olivia’s voic
Leon’s POV.Ezra’s knock wasn’t violent, yet the impact of it hit with a force that cut straight through the peace of the morning. The moment I stepped into the hallway and closed the bedroom door behind me, everything warm and steady dissolved. The lingering heat from Scarlett’s skin faded too quickly. The scent of her hair drifted away. The quiet, intimate safety of our bed—of her—vanished the instant I saw Ezra’s stance.He stood rigid near the wall, shoulders locked, hands clasped neatly behind his back. His jaw had a line of tension that only formed when something serious demanded his full attention. There was a sharp, focused alertness in his expression that told me this wasn’t something that could wait.My voice dropped. “This better be important. You interrupted something I didn’t want interrupted.”Ezra didn’t shrink from the edge in my tone. “It is important, Sir. The investigator arrived unannounced. He’s waiting for you in the study.”A cold pressure slid into my chest. “W
Scarlett’s POV. The rest of the night unraveled with a depth that touched me deeply. After Leon had proposed to me—after that final kiss that left my entire body trembling with relief and joy all at once—Leon threaded his fingers through mine and drew me toward the pier behind the venue. Every step made my heart climb higher in my chest. I wondered what he had planned for us. What I did know, and could tell just by appearances alone—he had most certainly put a lot of thought into everything.It was absolutely beautiful out here. Even more so than what is was inside of the venue.The water stretched out into the distance, dark and steady, reflecting the muted glow of lanterns arranged along the wooden railing. At the far end of the pier, a private ferry waited—small, intimate, and illuminated with rows of soft lights that traced the outline of the deck. The lanterns cast gentle pools of gold across the water, bending and shifting with each ripple.“Leon, this is—” I lifted a hand to m
Leon’s POV.Scarlett stood at the bottom of the staircase, staring up at me with eyes wide and her lips parted, her breath caught somewhere between disbelief and wonder. The white-and-gold dress framed her perfectly, catching every line of her body with a quiet power that nearly knocked the air from my lungs.Her skin glowed softly under the entrance lights, and the look she gave me—confused, slightly flustered, undeniably beautiful—pulled something tight in my chest.She looked breathtaking.I had imagined this moment for days. I had pictured her reaction to the dress, to the venue, and to the night I planned for her. But watching her now—alive, safe, and luminous—was more overwhelming than anything I had prepared myself for. The sight of her after everything we had survived struck through me with unexpected force. Two weeks ago, I feared I might lose her forever. Tonight, she stood here in front of me, whole and steady, wrapped in nothing but light.“What is going on?” she asked aga
Scarlett’s POV.Two weeks had slipped past so fast—in a blur of spending hours upon hours in hospital corridors, surviving sleepless nights, and the endless rhythm of monitors tracking every breath Leila took. If I ever closed my eyes during that time—the sound would haunt me in my dreams.I lived every hour holding my own breath, waiting for the moment the doctors would say she was stable enough to leave. When that moment finally arrived, I nearly collapsed from the relief of it.I just wanted my whole family home together, at last. Safe, and at peace.Leila looked so content in her crib that morning—her tiny chest rising with steady breaths, her cheeks full again, her skin warm and flushed with strength she hadn’t had before. The doctor ran through the final check, inspected every detail of her recovery, and finally signed the release documents.There would never be enough words to describe how happy I felt in that moment.“You can take her home,” the doctor had announced in a gentl







