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Sam's POV
The cabin of the private jet hummed gently with a rhythmic vibration that was accompanied by the sounds of cheerful but slightly tipsy chatter from the wedding party in the front lounge. The polished and reassuring voice of Mrs. Xavier, the high-end wedding consultant kept ringing in my ears. After I had gently lifted the edge of my embroidered silk veil, I shook as I saw the white leather interior and the champagne flutes. Finally, I confirmed it. I was indeed in a luxurious private jet that was flying to a private island where my wedding reception would be held. I subtly raised my hands and observed them. My skin was covered with manicured yet flawless. My nails were perfectly shaped and my slender fingers long and firm. These were the hands I once had before I lost myself and finally lost my life. I had been reborn. My initial panic had subsided. At this moment, I had completely calmed down and accepted the fact. Thinking about it, now that I was reborn, would I have to go through the withered and desperate life that I lived before, again? I couldn't stop myself from shivering. My nails dug into my palms subconsciously and I felt an icy chill! As I didn't want to relive the bleak desperate and unbearable life of isolation that I lived before, I clenched my fists tightly to hold back the urge of pulling back the curtain that separating me from the main cabin. Beyond that thin curtain, I knew there was a devastatingly handsome man dressed in a bespoke black tuxedo with a white gardenia pinned to his lapel. He would be busy shaking hands with his business associates at the moment. That was my husband, Ethan Sterling, the CEO and eldest legitimate son of the Sterling Group, the biggest name in tech investment in the whole country. We had never truly met in this life but we were married for four miserable years in my past life. As I thought about my husband, my heart grew colder and an indescribable feeling of sorrow spread from the bottom of my heart until it gripped my whole body tightly that I could hardly breathe. I had once walked into the Sterling family mansion with naive dreams and longing but I was welcomed by a series of devastating social and emotional blows that forced me to the brink of despair. My parents had passed away when I was young. The family business which was a small, respectable Midwestern engineering firm was declining. Marrying into the Sterling family, the most powerful and the richest family in the country was terrifying despite the longing. I was truly afraid. I was scared of being looked down upon by my formidable mother-in-law and Ethan's polished business partners. Not to talk about my sophisticated sister-in-law. I was afraid of being ridiculed by the household staff for my simple, non-designer wardrobe and lack of experience in their advanced world. ******* Everything about life in the Sterling family terrified me! The only hope born out of my anxiety was my husband. If he respected and protected me, perhaps my life would be better. To me, he was the life-saving raft, my only reliance! However, reality was cruel! He had a lifelong friend and business partner, Gwen Farley. They grew up together. In less than two months after my marriage, Gwen took over the role that I thought was mine. She became the undisputed co-hostess of Sterling family functions. All my worries and fears came true. My mother-in-law didn't like me and my husband was distant. The household staff pitied me and people spread rumors to mock me as the "small-town trophy wife" even in my presence. Gradually, I became invisible in the massive family estate as I was forgotten in the remote wing. My heart slowly withered away and my self-worth died and got buried. That was when I knew that life of total neglect and isolation was more painful than public torture. It was enough to drive any normal person mad. I didn't want it but no one gave ne a chance, not a single person. I smiled mockingly at the corners of my mouth. I had been so desperate before that I didn't want think about it too deeply. Now, as I replayed my past, I was shocked to realize that Gwen pretended to offer me "mentorship" and "friendship" just to cause problems between me and my mother-in-law and husband again and again. She did all that under the guise of wanting to help me fit in the family. The sweet smiles, the kind laughter and the friendly advice… How could it all be fake? Yet, it was. Fake! She reached out to me and I was so surprised but grateful to her. I accepted her without the slightest doubt just to reap a miserable, gloomy life like a living dead! "The bride will step off the jet now—" Mrs. Xavier's sharp and professional voice interrupted my thoughts. The sound of the jet's door opening and the distant cheering of the ground crew grew louder. It sounded like a perfect day, a billion-dollar wedding! I was back! I was walking into the Sterling family again to become their daughter-in-law! My head felt a little dizzy and I felt my heart pounding fast and hard. It was as if it was going to jump out of my throat! I took a deep breath and suppressed my racing heart. I extended my slender hand to hold Mrs. Xavier’s. I let her support me as I stepped off the plane and took one end of the white silk ribbon handed to me for the first ceremonial photo.Sam's POVTonight, the study wore the tension of a battlefield more than ever before.Midnight. Pages spread across the table like pieces of a puzzle finally clicking together. Each file, each message, bank record, salvaged timestamp, grainy footage, medical result - stacked tight, impossible to ignore. Hours gone just checking, rechecking, lining up facts so nothing slipped through. Proof too heavy to dismiss. Solid enough to break what broke me long ago.Back in the seat, breath leaving me like smoke through glass. Quiet settled in - first real stillness since opening my eyes aboard that plane. Mind sharp now. Strength humming under skin.This was no longer about getting even.This was justice.This moment marked taking back what was mine - every part, each version.That plan was set, sharp and clear in my mind. Downstairs, inside the estate’s locked chamber, it would happen. Not just Victor - Gwen too - guarded closely by arm
Sam's POVInside, the room seemed tighter when we stood there together.Over by the connected desks, Ethan took his seat next to mine while the main file sprawled across several monitors. Light from the lamp pooled warmly yet barely reached beyond us, letting darkness cling to the edges - just like parts of the story now inching forward after years hidden. Though my fingers moved without shaking through the documents, inside, my pulse jumped between fear and something harder to name. Stillness held the air, broken only by the soft clicks beneath my fingertips.This was the moment.Everything laid bare. Nothing left out on purpose. Showing him piece by piece, holding back only the complete truth of the return. Financial paper paths came first. Then messages pulled from old accounts. Lab results filled in what poison had done. Time stamps from building access showed who moved where. Server permissions dug up after deletion told their part. Grainy images fro
Ethan's POVHeavy silence filled the room, where walls seemed to shrink under truths that had waited too long to be spoken.Across the connected desks, Sam took her seat, fingers shaky while clicking open the main file on her computer. Light from the display cut dark lines over her skin - tired eyes, yet fixed with a steady kind of fire. I’d sensed it for weeks, whatever storm she carried inside. Ever since the roof incident, she kept space between us. Hesitation lingered, even when conversations softened. Pieces slipped out now and then - stories of recollections that made no sense, memories belonging to someone else.Ready for hurt, I stood firm.That caught me off guard. It just didn’t fit what I thought would happen.She started with the evidence.Later came timelines - her own words on past episodes. Messages passed between Gwen and the pharmacy worker laid out when pills were taken. Money moved through Victor’s trust
Sam's POVWhat once seemed unclear now made sense.Betrayal stared back from every brushstroke. The painting needed no words to speak its truth.Alone in the shut-up study, screens glowing with files spread wide. Pieces clicking together now, slow and cold, like shadows filling corners late at night. Not some stranger. Him. Victor Sterling - blood relation to Ethan, always invited, always nodding, passing bread without rush or remark. Sat right there across the table. Smiling just enough. All of it makes sense only after the fact.He hadn’t just known.He had enabled.He had authorized.From the start, he made sure each path stood clear for Gwen’s quiet, planned killing. Though careful steps were taken, nothing blocked her way when timing mattered most.Nothing could hide where the money moved. From hidden accounts tied to him came steady flows that paid the pharmacy operator. Server backups wiped clean still reveal
Sam's POVA hush lay over the room, broken only by the soft drone of the laptop's cooling system while, out beyond the window, ocean swells pounded the rocks down below.Hours passed while I stayed wide awake, though Ethan slept soundly nearby. On my monitor glowed the main file - built from years of hurt, quiet endurance, and sharp decisions made in silence. All proof collected now lived inside it: money records flowing together, poison test results stacked beside them, Gwen’s messages pulled from hiding, Victor’s voice caught mid-admission, timestamps ticking through door sensors, video clips mined from unseen lenses.Yet a quiet gap remained inside.A single clue kept pulling me back - an erased file from the family's health records. Hidden far down, scrubbed clean by someone who knew what they were doing, though not flawless. After hours of poking at weak spots in the code, slipping past firewalls one wrong guess at a time, the data spille
Ethan's POVSomehow, halfway through yet another spotlight moment, the act faded. It slipped away - not with a shout but during one of those long talks where morning creeps in while words run low.It began as calculation - his hand resting low on her back just long enough for flashes, eyes holding too tight in press rows, soft pecks near her brow meant to feed the story of us. Then something slipped. The act split open without warning. His fingers stayed past the moment required. Their silence across rooms said more than lines ever did. Conversations stretched into dark hours by windows or among potted vines, no longer pretending they were playing roles but needing the sound of each other’s voice just to breathe.Love filled my days when she was mine. Her presence shaped every moment we shared together. That bond defined how I saw the world around me.Her presence mattered. The joining of forces meant nothing. A sharp planner once rescued my busines







