My Second Chance at Life

I hovered in the expanse of midair.

Looking down, I could see my own charred, incinerated corpse.

Blackened.

Grotesque.

Looking up, I could see the golden sunlight of the living world.

I followed them.

I watched the rest of Julian and Chloe’s idyllic lives unfold.

They swallowed Sterling Group whole.

They threw a lavish, extravagant wedding.

A dazzling hall, a sumptuous party.

A sea of high-society guests.

They became the power couple everyone idolized.

At the altar, Julian delivered a speech overflowing with affection and devotion.

“I thank fate every single day,” he murmured, gazing into her eyes, “for bringing Chloe into my life.”

Fate.

Fate had been cruel to me.

Standing in the shadowy abyss, I stared at them, then I began to laugh.

Tears of crimson blood seeped from the corners of my eyes.

Without warning, the world turned inside out, like a black-and-white film rapidly rewinding.

I saw Julian.

He bolted upright in his king-sized bed.

Drenched in cold, sticky sweat.

His pupils dilated in sheer panic.

He gasped for air like a drowning man fighting for oxygen.

Fumbling for his phone, he turned on the screen.

It was the exact date, three years before the inferno swallowed me whole.

He went back in time.

At that exact second, in her luxury apartment across town, Chloe jolted awake from her own nightmare.

Her face was white as a sheet.

She dialed Julian’s number without missing a beat.

The line connected.

A dead, suffocating silence.

Ten agonizing seconds dragged on.

Julian broke the silence first, his voice shuddering with raw terror: “You’re back too?”

“Yes.”

Chloe’s voice cracked into frantic sobs.

“Back then… we overdid it.”

Julian pulled himself together, something sinister flickering in his eyes.

“Trying to seize Sterling Group by brute force almost blew up in our faces. This time around, we play the long game.”

“How long?”

“Three years.”

Julian gazed into the darkness outside his window.

“We play the saints, rob the Sterlings of every dime, then torment Hazel till she begs for death.”

On the other end of the line, Chloe let out a chilling laugh.

“Deal.”

Floating in the void, watching their devilish pact unfold, I wanted to scream my heart out.

I wanted to swoop down and tear the flesh right off their faces.

But I was completely paralyzed.

I was nothing more than a spectator. All I can do is watch.

For three agonizing years, I watched them weave a web of lies and venom.

Armed with the cheat sheet of his past life, Julian swiftly scored several hyper-profitable business ventures.

His capital ballooned exponentially.

Meanwhile, Chloe sank her fangs into me, by becoming my dearest, irreplaceable “best friend”.

She accompanied me on endless shopping sprees.

She listened with feigned empathy as I poured my heart out.

Whenever I got into petty squabbles with my parents, she’d play the peacemaker, sweetly defusing the tension.

Everyone gushed about how ridiculously blessed I was.

A devoted, perfect fiancé.

A loving, sweet-natured best friend.

Yet nobody realized that every attempt of Chloe’s “peacemaking” was a calculated move designed to drive a wedge between my parents and me.

She’s been subtly dropping hints to the world that the heiress of Sterling Group was an airheaded, incompetent brat.

Julian was even more ruthless.

Under the guise of a dutiful fiancé, he infiltrated my family enterprise step by step.

My dad was cautious at first, keeping him at arm’s length.

But Julian’s act was just flawless.

He was humble, diligent, always putting the Sterling name as his priority.

Three years passed.

My dad naively handed over half of his empire to him.

Then came the systematic hollow-out.

Subsidiaries were quietly liquidated and transferred.

Capital was secretly drained.

By the time my dad caught wind that something was rotten, the trap had already sprung.

Julian bribed his personal physician, tampering with his daily medication.

His mind began to decay, fogged by confusion and memory lapses.

Eventually, he was diagnosed with “early-onset dementia”.

My mom collapsed into total despair.

She wept bitterly, pulling me into an embrace.

“Hazel... thank God we still have Julian. He’s the only rock we can lean on now.”

I nodded in agreement.

Last time I was alive, I had naively swallowed every last drop of their lethal potion.

Hovering in the void, I watched my former, pitiful self.

I drove my fingernails deep into the palms of my phantom hands.

I couldn't feel any pain, but my very soul trembled with uncontrollable rage.

Their three years of scheming had culminated to the fateful date.

Today was December seventeenth, the day I was burned alive.

Julian and Chloe sat in our mansion, sipping afternoon tea with my parents.

My mom held Chloe’s hands tightly, her face overflowing with matriarchal love.

“Oh, Chloe, dear... having you as a friend is Hazel’s greatest blessing.”

Chloe lowered her head, offering up an angelic smile.

Julian turned his gaze toward me, his eyes dripping with tenderness.

“Hazel, there’s a charity gala tonight. Let’s go together.”

“Alright.”

The Hazel of my past life agreed without a second thought.

Just as my spirit gnashed its teeth in fury, an icy, thunderous voice reverberated through the vast expanse of my mind.

“Go back now.”