Chapter three- Trapped in time

Anna POV

Jackson’s fingers tightened around my waist, the heat of his palm searing through the silk of my dress.

“Making friends, darling?” His voice was smooth, but beneath it lay something dark, something really possessive.

I forced a smile, slipping Harris’s card into my palm and clenching my fist fast enough. Jackson couldn’t see it. Not yet.

“Just admiring the art,” I murmured, meeting his gaze head-on.

His eyes flickered with something—something foreign. Uncertainty? No, it was more than that. Jealousy or  Fear.

But of what?

Harris had already disappeared into the crowd, melting into the sea of elite socialites like he had never been there in the first place. But his words lingered, curling around my thoughts like a snake.

A proposition. A partnership. A way out.

Jackson studied me for a moment, his fingers flexing at my waist before he released me. “Let’s go.”

I exhaled, letting him guide me toward the exit, but my mind was racing. Why had Jackson suddenly become so… aware of me? The Jackson from my past life had barely glanced my way unless it was to command or belittle me.

So what changed?

This Jackson was different. Subtle, calculating. Watching.

The ride home was silent, tension crackling between us. Jackson’s jaw was tight, his fingers drumming against the leather of the steering wheel. I could feel the weight of his stare whenever the car stopped at a light.

“Something on your mind, Mr. Blackwell?” I asked, breaking the silence.

His lips twitched. “You’re different.”

I stilled. “Excuse me?”

He turned to me, eyes narrowing slightly. “The Anna I knew a day before our wedding wasn’t this… strong.”

My breath hitched. He noticed.

Of course, he did. I had been a fragile, desperate girl the first time we met. Easily manipulated. Easily broken. But this time, I was steel wrapped in silk.

“I suppose marriage changes people,” I said coolly.

Jackson smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Does it?”

I held his gaze. “Doesn’t it?”

Something dark flashed across his expression before he turned back to the road.

Yes, I was different. And he felt it.

But was that what unsettled him? Or was it something else?

By the time we arrived at the Blackwell estate, my mind was a battlefield of questions.

That Night,

The bedroom was dimly lit, shadows flickering against the grand walls. I stood by the vanity, brushing out my hair, pretending not to feel Jackson’s eyes on me from across the room.

He had been watching me all night.

Not just looking—watching like I had something on my face.

“You’ve been quiet,” I said, meeting his gaze through the mirror.

Jackson leaned against the doorframe, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled up. He looked relaxed, but I wasn’t fooled.

“I’ve been thinking.”

I turned, arching a brow. “About what?”

He tilted his head slightly, studying me like a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. Then, he took a slow step forward.

Then another.

I forced myself to remain still as he stopped in front of me, towering over me, his presence suffocating.

“Tell me, Anna,” he murmured, voice dangerously soft. “Why did you agree to this marriage?”

My heart slammed against my ribs.

The past. The betrayal. The pain. It all flickered behind my eyes like ghosts clawing to be set free. But I forced a smirk, tilting my chin up. “Why did you agree to it?”

A shadow of amusement crossed his face, but his green eyes stayed locked on mine, searching. Doubting.

“You used to be so obedient,” he mused. “Now, you’re… unpredictable.”

I shrugged. “Perhaps I decided to grow up.”

Jackson’s fingers brushed against my chin, tilting my face up. My pulse spiked. The air between us shifted, thickened.

“Did you?” he murmured, his voice like silk and steel.

Dangerous. Tempting.

My breath caught as his thumb ghosted over my lower lip. The gesture was intimate, unfamiliar. Not the Jackson I knew.

For a moment, I let myself wonder—was this the real Jackson? The one I had never seen in my past life?

No.

This was still a game.

And I refused to lose.

So, I smiled. Sweet. Innocent. A deception wrapped in beauty.

I reached up, trailing my fingers down his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath my palm. His breath hitched.

“I should sleep,” I whispered.

A muscle ticked in his jaw.

For a second, I thought he would stop me, push me against the bed, claim me like he had once done—without care, without kindness.

But he didn’t.

Jackson stepped back, his expression unreadable. “Of course you need to rest.”

I turned swiftly, hiding my shaking hands as I climbed into bed, my mind a storm of confusion.

What had just happened?

Jackson Blackwell had never hesitated before. Never softened.

Yet tonight…

Tonight, he had let me go.

The Next Morning,

The sun streamed through the grand windows as I descended the staircase, my heels clicking against the marble floor. The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, but it wasn’t what caught my attention.

It was Jackson.

He stood at the dining table, deep in conversation with Olivia. His usual sharp demeanor was missing, replaced by something… softer. His hand rested on Olivia’s shoulder, his expression unguarded.

I paused, watching.

The Jackson I knew never showed affection—not even to his sister.

Who are you?

As if sensing my gaze, he looked up.

And then he smiled.

Not the smirk I had grown used to, not the cruel twist of his lips—a real smile.

My breath caught.

Was this another game? Another mask? Or…

Had I been wrong about him all along? Or could it be that my past life was turning around?

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the weight of the day pressing against my chest. Harris’s card burned in my palm, his words echoing in my mind.

A partnership. To destroy Jackson Blackwell and his family.

A month ago, I wouldn’t have hesitated. I would have taken Harris’s offer without question, without doubt.

But now…

Now, I wasn’t so sure.

Because tonight, Jackson had walked into our room.

And without a word, without a demand—

He had kissed my forehead.

Soft. Gentle. Different.

Then he left.

And for the first time in two lifetimes—

I didn’t know who my enemy was anymore.

My fingers trembled as I dialed Harris’s number, the card slick with sweat. The moment he answered, his voice was eerily calm.

“You should have called sooner, Anna.”

A chill crawled up my spine. “What do you mean?”

A low chuckle. “You still don’t get it, do you?” He sighed. “You’re going to die, Anna. Just like before.”

My breath caught. My heart pounded against my ribs.

Before? How did he know?

“I don’t—”

“You were wearing that same silk dress,” he murmured, his voice turning almost… fond. “Your hair was down, just like tonight. He kissed your forehead—just like tonight. And then…” A pause. “He killed you.”

My blood turned to ice.

“How do you know that?” My voice barely worked.

Harris exhaled. “Because I was there.”

My vision blurred. No. This wasn’t possible. I had been alone when I died—alone in that cold, dark room, Jackson’s betrayal the last thing I remembered.

Hadn’t I?

“Be careful, Anna.” His voice was a whisper now. “This time, he might not hesitate.”

The line went dead.

I clutched the phone, my breath shallow.

Was I trapped in a cycle?

And worse—was Jackson already planning my death?

No, it can’t be! Or was my present starting to affect my past and maybe things were starting to change.