Chapter 2

Odessa's eyes shot open, her heart beating loudly, beads of sweat thick on her forehead.

She was supposed to be dead. It was crazy, but her chest had slammed against her steering wheel, and broken glass from the windshield had pierced different parts of her body.

But here she was, awake.

She looked around at the familiar walls.

In her own room.

Her hands moved to her chest and then her face, but she did not feel any pain.

She tried to stand, but black spots flickered across her vision.

She stumbled and fell to the ground, her mind reeling. She had died. She was sure of it.

She reached for her phone lying flat on the bedside table.

It was 5 a.m. Her eyes moved to the date below.

She shook her head and let the phone slip out of her hands.

February.

Six months before the accident and four months before she got pregnant.

She wrapped her hands around her stomach and broke into quiet sobs.

A wave of nausea washed over her, and she rushed to the bathroom. She leaned against the toilet seat and emptied the contents of her stomach.

She did not understand what was going on, but she was certain she had died. It was not a dream. It had been September.

She went to the sink and splashed her face with cold water.

She wondered if she had gone insane.

She walked back into the room and lowered herself onto the ground. She lay flat on her back, looking up at the ceiling.

She reached for her phone again and noticed she had an unread text message from Tristan.

He was asking her to be at the Blackwell meeting tomorrow.

Odessa clenched her jaw.

That cheating asshole.

She thought about the phone call in the car, how all he could think about was her working for the company when she had just lost her child.

She started typing. She called him the spawn of the devil and announced that he would be hearing from her lawyers. She wanted a divorce, and she cursed the day she met him.

Her fingers hovered over the send button.

Blackwell meeting tomorrow.

She closed her eyes and tried to remember why it felt so important.

Yes.

She had pitched her proposal for the Manhattan project to Silas Blackwell.

The deal would end up being one of the biggest and most successful projects their company was involved in.

She had been present because Tristan had failed to memorize the script she had prepared, and she had to do it herself.

Afterward, Mr. Blackwell had given her his card. He had asked her to come work for him instead, where her talents would be appreciated, instead of letting her husband take all the credit.

She remembered how shocked she was. She had wanted to know how he had figured it out, how he knew that her husband's talent was actually hers.

He had asked her to think about it before he walked away.

She had stared at the card for almost a minute before she threw it away.

Oh, what a horrible mistake she had made.

If she really was back, this was her chance to set things right.

This time, she would find out what would happen if she accepted his help.

She quickly deleted the message she had typed and rushed to her home office.

She pulled out the proposal she had prepared and stared at it.

She could not let Tristan go through with the deal with the Blackwell Group.

Odessa knew she had to play her cards right. Everything she did during the meeting had to repeat. Mr. Blackwell had to approach her like last time, only this time she would take the card and give him a call. This time, she would convince him to back away from the deal. She would have to convince him to pour his support into her instead. The project was hers anyway. She would not only destroy Tristan but also take the first steps to secure her own future.

She lowered herself onto her seat and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

There was no guarantee that everything would go exactly as it had the last time.

She could barely remember what she had said, and she was no longer the Odessa Tristan had neglected.

How would she hide the hatred in her heart?

She would have to pretend to be the dutiful wife until she was able to walk away from him.

She thought about his cold words before she died.

The smug way he had thrown her decision to marry him back in her face, even though he knew exactly what kind of man he was.

If pretending to still love him was the sacrifice she had to make, then she would do it a thousand times.

She flipped the proposal onto her desk.

The plan was simple.

Ensure the meeting turned out exactly as it had the last time.

When Mr. Blackwell offered his card, take it and schedule a meeting.

Make sure he backed away from the deal.

Convince him to pour his support into her instead.

Odessa exhaled and rubbed her hands together.

It wasn't as easy as it sounded, but she would try her best. She had been given a miracle. It would be a shame to do anything less than her best.

Her eyes moved to the picture frame sitting on her desk.

Her wedding day. She was holding roses, smiling brightly, with Tristan's arms around her waist.

She thought about throwing it across the room, the glass shattering into pieces.

Instead, she turned it face down.

She would sabotage every step Tristan took. She would take everything from him. She would make sure he was nothing but a pathetic man without her.

She would make sure he experienced what his life would have been if she had never stepped into it.

She would do it for the child she would never get to meet, and for herself.

She rose to her feet and walked out of the office. She needed to prepare herself for the first day of her new life.