Chapter two

Liora

“Oh yes, fun,” I said, my lips curving into a slow, deliberate smile. “I’ve always wondered how thrilling it’d be to be part of a threesome.”

Dawn didn't flinch, not even a blink. Her lips curled into a lazy smirk, one of her legs still draped over his like she owned him. And he made no attempts to move away.

But the little crease on her forehead didn't go unnoticed. She probably expected me to break as soon as I set my eyes on the fools. However, that wasn't happening; at this point, I couldn't feel anything; I was completely numb and bloodthirsty.

“It's not what you think, Liora. Dawn and I are merely having a conversation. Do not misinterpret what you just saw.” Ethan's voice sounded bored, like an unskillful actor mastering his lines.

“A conversation?” I scoffed, my shoulders vibrating to the rhythm of my laughter. “I didn't know that conversations now involve genital meetings.”

Ethan's brows furrowed; he must be thinking about how different I sounded. Usually, I wasn't this crude, and I accepted whatever he said, even if it wasn't true. That shows how much love I had for him in the past. My gut wrenched, and the urge to puke surrounded me like a canopy of melancholy just at the thought of him.

“What's all this, Liora?” Dawn's eyes traveled from my head, landing on my black dress. But it seemed she had something more important to say other than why I was wearing black instead of white.

“You should be thankful that Ethan is getting married to you. Remember, no one in our society is willing to marry you, but here he is marrying you despite all odds.” She threw her hands in the air, a gesture she always does whenever she wants to start her manipulation games.

Oh, she was wrong. There was one person: Damien Grayson. But I hated him because of the ruthless rumors I'd heard about him, one of which was that he killed his family.

That aside, let's continue with my scheming family. When I was younger, Dawn and her mother tricked me into celebrating my eighteenth birthday at a club. I was naive, trusting, and desperate to feel included.

But that night turned into a nightmare. I woke up surrounded by strange men and flashing cameras. By morning, the tabloids had already labeled me a slut. My reputation was ruined. Friends, family, and society distanced themselves as if I were a disease.

And after that, my stepmother introduced Ethan to me. I thought she was the best for getting someone to be my friend at that hard time.

My friendship with Ethan blossomed, and he confessed his feelings to me. I was so happy; I worshipped him for choosing me despite the news about me, and I made my world revolve around him. I didn't know this was just my stepmother's plan to get rid of me, to keep my grandfather's attention away from me.

And when my stepmother made her intentions of us getting married, I was elated. Now that I think about it, I was a fool.

“Really?” I finally replied to Dawn with a smirk on my face.

“Yes”. She stated before she continued.

“So what if you caught us together, Liora?” she continued, her eyes shining with a mischievous glint as she walked closer to me. “He fucked me, Liora, we do it all the time. In the kitchen, hotel, sitting room, beside you. What are you going to do about that?” she whispered.

My eyes widened a bit, but I made sure to put my emotions on deck. I couldn't do anything that would give her the slightest hint of my rebirth. I couldn't give her a hint that I was no longer that weak, naive girl. It was just a pity I never noticed the both of them together all this while.

“You should listen to your sister, Liora. I mean, you are not even my type. I am only helping you.” He scoffed, his lips curling into a crooked smirk as he folded his arms across his chest. “You are fat,my grandma dresses better than you, and you are pathetic.” He sneered.

Not gonna lie, my heart did shatter for a second. His grandma? Was my dressing that horrible? I never put much effort into my tons of dresses, but I always thought I looked decent.

“Hah!” I heard Dawn chuckle, her laughter laced with mockery. “What are you even wearing? How pathetic.” She muttered under her breath.

I clenched my hands beside me, my teeth molding into a clench. But I calmed myself down by taking a big sigh before I started to speak.

“I am sorry, Dawn; please forgive me, Ethan.” I clasped my hands together to make my apology believable. “I am sorry I lost myself.” My voice was low, and my head faced the ground to stop them from seeing the smirk on my face.

“I should really appreciate you guys for everything you have done for me. Let's proceed with the wedding, please. We are already behind time.” I said softly, and the previous blaze in my eyes was gone.

You might think that I was stupid to want to continue with the wedding since I already knew what would happen. But this wedding had a purpose. You see, in my last life, I went to prison for a murder I didn't commit. Although I didn't stay for long, I came back miserable.

A smile tugged at Dawn's lips, and her eyes narrowed into a slow, deliberate look. The sharpness in her eyes melted into satisfaction.

“You finally came to your senses,” I heard her say as she straightened the crease on her extravagant dress.

Just then, the door sprang open, revealing my wicked stepmother, Ursula. That was a nickname I had given her since she had a striking resemblance to that character in The Little Mermaid.

“What do you think you are doing? The wedding is about to begin, but you are still here,” her scary light coffee-brown eyes focused on me as she looked at me in disgust.

“And what the hell are you wearing?” She rolled her eyes but quickly washed it off, as if she didn't really care about what I wore. All she wanted was for me to get married so she could reap the benefits that came with me marrying into an influential family and get rid of me after.

“I am so sorry, Ethan; let's get the wedding started.” She apologized with a less harsh voice.

Her face immediately scrunched up as soon as her gaze settled on me. “What are you still waiting for?” she yelled. I walked majestically, not even minding her barking.

****

Three minutes later, we were at the church, had already walked down the aisle, and were standing in front of the priest. I found him weird, and all I could focus on was his mustache; it seemed bigger than his face.

“Do you, Ethan James Hart, take this woman, Liora Langford, to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, for as long as you both shall live?”

“Yes, I do.” Ethan answered without hesitation. His lips lifted into a smirk, making me feel the need to wipe the smile off his face.

“And do you, Liora Langford, take this man, Ethan James Hart, to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, for as long as you both shall live?”

I wasn't even listening to what the priest was saying. My gaze was locked on the door. I was waiting for the police to come in.

But this time, I wasn't going to be the fucking victim. I looked at my stepmother, who was already getting worried, and she tried to send messages to me with her eyes. But my face lifted into a mocking smirk.

You are about to go down, babe. I said silently, my gaze on her. So I thought, if only I knew that the universe was playing games with me.

The priest cleared his throat, preparing to say the vows again, but just as planned, the police suddenly barged in with heavy guns and unsmiling faces.

“EVERYONE STAY WHERE YOU ARE!” one of the officers yelled.

Everyone was panicking, but I was smiling because this time I was two steps ahead.

But to my greatest horror, just when I thought I had things in order, a body dropped dead from the top, as the church was a two-story building.

My breath caught in my throat the moment my eyes landed on the lifeless figure. This wasn't supposed to happen now. In fact, my plan was to stop the death from happening; that's why I sent Helen on an errand, because in my past life she was killed, and I was the victim accused of murder.

My eyes widened further, and my breath became ragged as I had a better view of the face of the body. The body wasn't even that of Helen. It was one of the guests.

My eyes shot to the cathedral's antique clock. The golden hands pointed to 9:00 a.m. No. No,

The death wasn't even meant to happen until 11. And the body wasn't that of Helen’s

“What the actual fuck!!”