Reborn, I become my enemies worst nightmare.

The rain fell mercilessly, soaking my clothes and mixing with the blood trickling from the corner of my mouth.

I lay on the cold pavement, unable to move. Every breath felt like a knife piercing my lungs, and every heartbeat reminded me that my life was slipping away.

Above me stood the two people I had once loved more than anything in the world.

My husband, James Thornton.

And my adopted sister, Pearl Summers.

They watched me die without the slightest trace of remorse.

“Why?” I whispered, my voice barely audible above the rain. “James… why would you do this to me?”

James adjusted his expensive wristwatch, looking down at me as though I were nothing more than an inconvenience.

“Must you make everything so dramatic, Chloe?”

His words hurt more than the pain spreading through my body.

I had married this man believing he loved me. I had defended him against everyone who questioned his intentions. I had sacrificed my dreams, my happiness, and even my relationship with my family for him.

And this was how he repaid me.

With betrayal.

With cruelty.

With death.

Pearl stepped closer, carefully avoiding the puddle of blood beside my hand. Her designer heels clicked against the pavement.

“Oh, Chloe,” she sighed, pretending to be disappointed. “You really should have known when to stop fighting.”

I stared at her.

My little sister.

The girl I had protected when we were children. The girl I had comforted whenever our parents scolded her. The girl whose tears had always mattered more to our parents than my own.

I had never imagined she could become the person standing over my dying body.

“Why did you steal my paintings?” I asked, struggling to keep my eyes open. “Why did you tell everyone you were A-Star?”

Pearl's expression changed.

For a moment, the mask slipped, revealing the ugly jealousy she had hidden for years.

Then she laughed.

“Because I could.”

My heart twisted.

A-Star.

That was the name the world knew me by—the mysterious artistic genius whose paintings sold for millions and whose identity had remained hidden for years.

I had worked in secret, pouring my heart and soul into every canvas. Painting was the only place where I felt free, the only place where I could escape the suffocating expectations of the Summers family.

But Pearl had discovered my secret.

And she had stolen everything.

She took my paintings, copied my signature, and presented herself as the genius behind them. She manipulated our parents into believing I was jealous of her success. When I tried to reveal the truth, James helped silence me.

And the world believed her.

“You knew what those paintings meant to me,” I whispered.

“Of course I did.” Pearl crouched beside me, her face close to mine. “That's why taking them was so satisfying.”

Tears slipped down my cheeks, disappearing into the rain.

“Did you ever love me?”

For the first time, Pearl seemed amused by my question.

“Love you?” She tilted her head. “Chloe, you were always the golden daughter. Even when Mother and Father tried to hide it, you had something I could never have. Talent. Beauty. Attention.”

She leaned closer.

“I hated you for it.”

I felt as though something inside me had shattered.

All those years, I had tried to be a good sister. I had shared my things with her, defended her mistakes, and believed that if I loved her enough, she would eventually love me in return.

How foolish I had been.

“And James?” I asked, turning my gaze toward my husband. “Was any of it real?”

James gave a cold smile.

“Don't flatter yourself. Marrying you was convenient. Your family had money, and you were easy to manipulate.”

I stared at him in disbelief.

He continued, his voice completely emotionless.

“Pearl understood me better than you ever could. You were always busy with your paintings, imagining that one day the world would bow at your feet.”

Pearl slipped her arm through his.

“James has always belonged to me,” she said sweetly. “You were simply standing in the way.”

The rain grew heavier.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to rise from the ground and tear away the smiles on their faces. I wanted to make them feel even a fraction of the pain they had caused me.

But my body refused to obey me.

My fingers twitched weakly against the pavement.

“Please,” I whispered. “Someone…”

James glanced toward the empty road.

“No one is coming to save you.”

He was right.

My parents had abandoned me long before this night. They had chosen Pearl's lies over my truth, her tears over my pain, and her happiness over my life.

When I had begged them to investigate the stolen paintings, they accused me of trying to destroy my sister.

When I had shown them evidence of James's infidelity, they told me to stop embarrassing the family.

And when I had finally left the Summers estate, they had not even tried to stop me.

I had been alone for years.

I was alone now.

Pearl straightened and brushed an imaginary speck of dust from her dress.

“Goodbye, Chloe. Don't worry. I'll take good care of your paintings.”

She smiled.

“After all, the world already believes they're mine.”

James turned away with her.

I watched them walk toward their waiting car, their silhouettes slowly disappearing behind the curtain of rain.

They didn't look back.

Not once.

My vision blurred.

So this was how it ended.

Not in a grand gallery surrounded by my paintings. Not with my name finally revealed to the world. Not with the recognition I had spent my entire life chasing.

I was dying on a cold street, betrayed by the people I had loved most.

A strange memory surfaced in my fading consciousness.

A man with dark eyes and a quiet, commanding presence.

Damian Rourke.

The billionaire everyone feared, the man who had once sent me a message through an art gallery director.

If you ever need someone to stand beside you, Chloe Summers, you only have to ask.

I had dismissed his words at the time. I thought he was merely another powerful man interested in acquiring one of my paintings.

I had never answered him.

Now, I wished I had.

A bitter laugh escaped my lips, followed by a painful cough.

“I'm sorry,” I whispered to the empty night.

I didn't know whether I was apologizing to Damian, to the little girl I had once been, or to the woman I had failed to protect.

Perhaps I was apologizing to myself.

For trusting the wrong people.

For allowing others to decide my worth.

For spending my life begging for love from people who had never intended to give it.

My eyelids grew heavy.

The rain softened into a distant whisper.

As darkness closed around me, one final thought burned through my mind.

If I could live again, I would never make the same mistakes.

I would protect my paintings.

I would expose Pearl.

I would destroy James's carefully constructed lies.

And I would never again beg my family to love me.

I would make them pay.

Then everything went black.

“Miss Chloe! Miss Chloe, wake up!”

A familiar voice called from somewhere far away.

I frowned.

Why was someone disturbing me?

I wanted to tell them to leave me alone. I wanted to sleep, to disappear into the darkness where there was no pain and no betrayal.

But the voice came again.

“Miss Chloe, you're going to be late!”

I forced my eyes open.

Sunlight streamed through pale curtains, illuminating a room I knew better than my own reflection.

My childhood bedroom.

I sat up so quickly that the blanket slipped from my shoulders.

My heart pounded.

The cream-coloured walls. The white dressing table. The bookshelf beside the window. The framed photographs I had taken years ago.

Everything was exactly as I remembered it.

But that was impossible.

I had died.

I remembered the cold pavement beneath my body. I remembered Pearl's cruel smile and James's heartless words. I remembered the rain washing away my blood as my life slipped from me.

So why was I here?

I looked down at my hands.

No blood.

No bruises.

No trembling fingers struggling to hold on to life.

My hands were smooth and healthy.

I touched my face, then my neck, searching for the injuries that had killed me.

Nothing.

A sharp breath escaped my lips.

“What's happening to me?”

I threw aside the blanket and rushed toward the mirror.

The girl staring back at me looked young. Her cheeks were full, her skin clear, and her eyes bright with a life I had thought was already gone.

I raised a trembling hand to my face.

This was me.

But not the me who had died.

I looked years younger.

“No…” I whispered.

A knock sounded at the door.

“Miss Chloe?”

The door opened, and a middle-aged woman stepped inside carrying a tray.

Mrs. Bennett.

Our family's longtime housekeeper.

She looked exactly as I remembered her, from her neatly pinned hair to the gentle concern in her eyes.

“Miss Chloe, are you feeling unwell?” she asked. “You've been sleeping for so long.”

I stared at her.

In my first life, Mrs. Bennett had left the Summers household shortly after I married James. She had been one of the few people who treated me kindly, and I remembered hearing that she had moved to another city.

Seeing her now made my knees feel weak.

“Mrs. Bennett?”

She blinked in surprise.

“Yes, dear. Who else would it be?”

I crossed the room and caught her hands.

“What year is it?”

Her expression turned worried.

“It's 2023, Miss Chloe. Are you sure you're feeling all right?”

My breath caught in my throat.

Three years.

I had returned three years before my death.

Three years before Pearl's lies destroyed my reputation. Three years before James betrayed me. Three years before I lay bleeding in the rain.

Three years before everything went wrong.

I stumbled backward and sat on the edge of the bed.

Mrs. Bennett hurried toward me.

“Should I call your mother?”

“No!”

The word came out sharper than I intended.

I took a breath and forced myself to calm down.

“No, please. I'm fine. I just need a moment.”

She studied me uncertainly before setting the tray on my dressing table.

“Your breakfast is ready downstairs. Your father asked that you join the family this morning.”

My father.

Richard Summers.

The man who had looked me in the eyes and accused me of being jealous when I tried to expose Pearl.

Anger stirred in my chest, hot and unfamiliar.

But beneath it lay something even stronger.

Hope.

If I had truly been given another chance, then I was no longer powerless.

I could change everything.

I could stop Pearl before she stole my identity.

I could keep James from destroying me.

I could protect the work that belonged to me and expose every lie they had told.

And this time, I wouldn't wait until I was dying to fight back.

“Miss Chloe?” Mrs. Bennett asked gently. “Are you certain you're all right?”

I looked up at her.

For the first time since waking, I managed a genuine smile.

“Yes,” I said. “I'm better than all right.”

Because I was alive.

And my enemies had no idea what was coming.

I turned toward the window, watching the sunlight spread across the garden where I had once spent countless afternoons painting.

Somewhere in this house, Pearl was probably sleeping peacefully, dreaming about the life she planned to steal from me.

James was likely preparing for another day of pretending to be the perfect man.

And my parents were still convinced that their family was happy.

Let them enjoy their peace.

They had no idea that the woman they had betrayed had returned.

I walked to the mirror once more and studied my reflection.

The frightened, trusting girl who had died in the rain was gone.

In her place stood a woman who knew exactly how cruel the world could be.

I would not waste this second chance.

I would reclaim my name.

I would reclaim my art.

And when the truth finally came to light, every person who had helped destroy my first life would learn the price of betraying Chloe Summers.

I clenched my hands, my gaze hardening.

“This time,” I whispered, “I will be the one who decides how the story ends.”