LOGIN*Avina*
“Is everything done, Maria?” I asked again, my voice cutting through the low clatter behind the counters.
Maria didn’t look up at first, too busy correcting a placement and signaling someone to lower the heat. “Yes, ma’am. Almost.”
I exhaled slowly. “Almost how long?”
She finally faced me, hands folding together. “We ran short on flour. Ben’s gone to fetch more from the underground pantry.”
I sighed and pressed a finger to my eyebrow. “No problem, just take your time and make sure everything is perfect.”
She nodded. “Yes ma'am.”
I went out yet again, pausing briefly to smoothen out my silk dress. It was a soft, pale blue—Xavier’s favorite color. I looked innocent. I looked like the perfect, grieving wife he expected to find.
A clock went off somewhere in the house prompting me to take a deep calming breath. He would be home soon. I could feel it.
Clenching my fists by my sides, I shook my head and strutted towards the foyer.
“Avina!”
I froze, my blood turning to ice as the very familiar, fruity masculine voice called my name.
The same voice that tormented me to my very last breath.
Clenching my teeth, I slowly turned my head and stared right into the eyes of Xavier Graves, ‘my husband’.
I had been so immersed in making sure that everything was perfect for my little welcome back present for Xavier that I almost forgot how badly it would wreck me to look into the eyes of the man who had brutally murdered me in my past life.
An unknown heavy weight settled on my chest, making it hard for me to breathe. Each inhale felt shallow, as if the air couldn't reach the depths of my lungs. My body stiffened, muscles tightening like coiled springs ready to snap.
Different emotions rolled through my body in quick successions. Anger, bitterness, hatred and an intense hunger for revenge surging through my veins and slowing my pulse.
Breathe, Avina, I mused. Breathe.
I already witnessed first hand how cruel and manipulative he was, if I were to let emotions rule my revenge I wouldn't even make a dent any where.
If I wanted to take revenge on high functioning sociopath like Xavier and Daphne, I need to start thinking like them.
By the time I was calm enough for my hazy vision to clear up. Xavier was already making his way towards me.
He looked exactly as he had in my memories—the sharp jawline, that golden boy clean-cut image with topped off with soft black hair, the expensive watch, the eyes that could look so warm while his heart was made of ice.
My fingers twitched with the need to reach out and tear off that deceptive soft look off his handsome face but I reined myself in.
“Avina," he said, his voice a low caress. He took off his glasses and collected a long, velvet box from the junior staff beside him. "Darling, I’m so sorry. I saw the news. I came home as fast as I could."
He reached me and pulled me into his arms. I felt his heart beating against my chest. The same heart that had stopped mine. I had to fight the urge to reach for the letter opener on the hall table and drive it into his throat. My skin crawled where he he had his arms wrapped around me, but I forced myself to lean into him.
“Oh, Xavier," I whispered, my voice trembling perfectly. "It was so horrible. The papers said such awful things."
“Shhh," he murmured, kissing the top of my head. "It’s all lies, Avina. A smear campaign by the rivals at the hospital. I was in meetings all day. I don't even know that woman."
I see.
He pulled back and opened the velvet box. Inside was a diamond necklace. It was beautiful. It was also the exact same style as the one I had seen Daphne wearing in my final moments.
"A peace offering," he said, his eyes full of that fake, practiced tenderness. "To remind you that you’re the only woman in my life."
"It's beautiful," I fake gushed, letting him clip it around my neck. The metal felt like a collar. Like a leash. "Thank you, Xavier. I felt so silly for being upset."
"You’re sensitive, darling. It’s what I love about you." He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. A bright contagious smile titling the corner of his lips. "Mrs. Gable said you were… firm with her today."
I mentally rolled my eyes. Of course, she would tattle to him the moment she got the chance.
"I just wanted everything to be perfect for your return," I said, looking down shyly. "I had the kitchen prepare a special dinner. To celebrate your return. And to put this unpleasantness behind us."
Xavier’s smile widened. He loved it when I was domestic. He loved it when I was focused entirely on his comfort. "You’re an angel, Avina. Let me wash up, and we’ll eat."
I took a rapid step back and nodded with a fake ass smile. “Of course baby.”
The moment he turned his back, I gagged on that endearment.
Ewww.
He spun on his heels yet again forcing me to get back into character. “I love you, vina,” he whispered softly.
This lying prick. I seethed in my head.
Well, two could play the game.
“I know,” I smiled.
*****
Dinner was served in the formal dining room. The candlelight danced off the silver, and the smell of the paella filled the room. It was rich, redolent with tomatoes and wine—pure poison for his system.
I watched him eat. I watched him take a long sip of the red wine, then a large bite of the aged cheese. I chatted about nothing—the garden, the weather, the upcoming anniversary. I was the picture of a doting wife.
"This is excellent, Avina," he said, though I noticed he was starting to rub his neck. "A bit rich, but delicious."
"You deserve to indulge, Xavier. You work so hard for us."
He smiled. He liked doing that a lot.
“Ohh yes, I'm meeting up with my uncle tomorrow night so don't bother making anything for me,” he suddenly told me.
My eyes perked up and I sat up straighter. “Your uncle…” I echoed.
He nodded absentmindedly. “Yes, my uncle. You have met him once, don't you remember him?”
His uncle.
A myriad of plans swam through my head, scenes interlocking with each other as a plan began to take form.
“Of course, I do remember him,” I replied with an easy smile. “Your favorite uncle…”
He scoffed. “Favorite uncle my ass,” he spat under his breath.
Bingo! There it was. That unspoken hatred which I have to utilize.
If Xavier was meeting up with him tomorrow, that means he's already in town. I had to act fast.
My hooded gaze flickered to Xavier as he gobbled more of the food down. Reckless fool.
Ten minutes later, the first sign appeared. A red flush began to spread from Xavier's collar up to his jaw. He cleared his throat, his hand trembling slightly as he held his wine glass.
"Are you alright, dear?" I asked, leaning forward, my face full of "concern." "You look a bit warm."
"Just… the travel," he said, his voice a bit raspy. He loosened his shirt buttons. "It’s a bit stuffy in here, isn't it?"
"I’ll open a window," I offered, but I didn't move.
Xavier tried to take another bite, but he suddenly dropped his fork. It clattered loudly against the china. His hand flew to his chest. His breathing was becoming shallow, a distinct wheezing sound echoing in the quiet room.
"Xavier?" I stood up, walking around the table.
His eyes were wide, beginning to bloodshot. Hives were blooming across his cheeks. He gasped, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "Heart… racing," he choked out. "Can't… catch my breath."
He tried to stand, but his legs gave way. He slumped to the floor, clutching the edge of the table. The silk tablecloth bunched in his hand, dragging a crystal glass down with him. It shattered on the floor, the red wine spilling like a pool of blood around his head.
I stood over him.
I didn't call for the maids. I didn't reach for my phone. I just stood there, looking down at the man who had watched me die with a smile on his face.
The wheezing was louder now. He was gasping, his fingers scratching at the floorboards. He looked up at me, his eyes pleading, filled with terror. He reached out a trembling hand, grabbing the hem of my dress.
"Help…" he wheezed. "Ambulance… Avina…"
I didn't move. I looked at him with the cold, detached curiosity of a scientist. So this is what it feels like, I thought. To watch the light go out in someone who thought they were a god.
"It's a terrible feeling, isn't it, Xavier?" I said, my voice barely a whisper. "To feel your own body betray you. To feel like the air is a luxury you can no longer afford."
His eyes widened. He heard the ice in my voice. He heard the lack of panic. A flash of confusion crossed his face, followed by a deeper, more primal fear.
"Avina… please… I can't breathe...”
I cocked my head and stared right into his eyes. “I know.”
Sighing, I pulled my phone from my pocket and looked at the screen. I could call 911. I could save him. But I wanted him to stay in this moment a little longer. I wanted him to feel the shadow of the grave.
Then I began to dial, my thumb hovering over the final digit. I waited and watched him turn a sickening shade of purple.
Suddenly, a hand reached out from behind me and snatched the phone from my grip.
I spun around, my heart stopping.
It was Maria, the cook. But she wasn't wearing her usual timid expression. She looked at me, then at the dying man on the floor, and then back at me. Her face was a mask of grim determination.
"Give it back," I whispered, my body tensing.
"Not yet," Maria said. She didn't look at Xavier. She looked only at me. "He hasn't suffered enough. My sister was a victim of him three years ago, Mrs. Graves. I know exactly what he is."
I froze. I hadn't known. In my past life, Maria had been a shadow, someone I barely spoke to.
"I’ll call the ambulance," Maria said, her voice steady as she pocketed my phone. "But not for another two minutes. He needs to remember this feeling. And you… you need to leave before the police arrive. You can’t be the one standing over him."
I stared at her, shock warring with a sudden, desperate hope. "Why are you helping me?"
Maria looked at Xavier, who was now clawing at his throat, his eyes rolling back. "Because I’ve been waiting for someone to finally wake up in this house. Go, Avina. I’ll handle the emergency call. I’ll tell them it was an accidental reaction.
“But—”
“Go!”
And I did. Regardless of the voice in my head telling me not to trust her, I turned, and I ran.
*Avina*The next three days were a masterclass in what it meant to be a Graves. Not because of the power or the money, but because of the suffocating, terrifyingly sweet intensity of Ronan’s devotion. If I moved a finger, he was there with a glass of water. If I sighed, he was adjusting my pillows. If I closed my eyes for longer than ten seconds, I could feel him hovering, checking my breathing as if I might just decide to stop out of spite. It was endearing, it was exhausting, and it was entirely Ronan.The current hospital room was a five-star suite disguised as a medical ward. The walls were a soft cream, the lighting was dimmed to a warm honey hue, and the air smelled like the expensive white lilies Ronan had delivered every morning. But no amount of luxury could mask the underlying tension that hummed through the room every time Aria’s name was mentioned.I watched them like a spectator at a high-stakes chess match where both players refused to sit at the table. Aria would crack
*Avina*I looked at him, and for a second, I felt a flash of pity. He was trying so hard to fix something that couldn't be mended with words or money. "I know," I said. It was a lie, or at least a half-truth. I didn't know if I wanted to try again. I didn't know if I wanted to bring a child into a world where I had to hit men with marble statues just to survive the night. But I couldn't tell him that. Not now. "You need to go home, Ronan," I said softly, brushing a stray hair from his forehead. "You look like you're about to collapse. Go shower. Change. See Aria. I’m not going anywhere.""I'm not leaving you," he insisted, his jaw setting in that stubborn Graves line. "Ronan. Please. I just... I need a moment of quiet. And you need to be a father to the daughter who is actually here."That got to him. He slumped, the fight bleeding out of his shoulders. He kissed my knuckles, a long, lingering press of his lips, before finally standing up. "I’ll be back in two hours," he promised
*Avina*The first thing I registered when I woke up was the smell. It wasn't the metallic, copper scent from the club or the sour stench of sweat and fear. It was clean. Far too clean for that hellhole. Instead it was that expensive, sterilized scent of an elite private hospital—bleach masked by a hint of lavender and the faint, ozone hum of high-end machinery. My eyelids felt like they were glued shut with lead. When I finally forced them open, the world around me was a blinding, clinical white. I winced, my head throbbing with a rhythmic, pounding ache that felt like someone was using my skull as a drum. Beep. Beep. Beep.The steady, artificial heartbeat of a monitor filled the silence. As my vision slowly dragged itself into focus, I realized I wasn't alone. There was a weight on my left arm, something heavy and warm. I shifted slightly, a groan catching in my dry throat, and looked down. It was Ronan. He was slumped in a chair that looked far too small for his frame, his hea
*Ronan*I soon reached the second floor. I paused for a moment, my chest heaving with deep panicked breaths. I craned my neck, searching for the slightest clue, and that was when I spotted the door at the end of the hall that was hanging off its hinges. It was the only room up here that was still pulsing with human life. The others were empty, probably because of the police downstairs.Then I heard a sound accompanied by a dull, wet thud. And then a laugh.My soul went cold.I burst into the room without a second thought. And the scene before me hit me like a physical blow to the heart. The room was dimly lit, smelling of iron and sickness. On a circular bed in the center, Aria was tied down, her eyes wide and glassy, staring at nothing. And on top of her, draped like a shield of silk and lace, was Avina. She wasn't moving. Her gray hoodie was stained and soaked with a deep, horrific crimson that I recognized all too well. Her hair was also matted with blood to her forehead, and
*Ronan* ~OVER AN HOUR AGO~ I stood at the head of the mahogany table, my eyes scanning the digital displays flickering on the wall. The numbers were red—blood red. The London firm was under a decapitation strike, a coordinated effort to bleed the Graves empire dry before the sun rose in Europe. "The short-sellers are hitting us from the Zurich side now, Mr. Graves," Director Ward said, his voice trembling. "If we don't dump the secondary holdings in the next ten minutes, we lose the majority stake." "Dump them," I snapped, my voice sharp. "And tell the Singapore desk to move the liquidity into the escrow accounts. I want them buried by dawn." "But, sir—" "Do it!" I roared. The room went silent. I felt like a caged animal. My tuxedo felt too tight, the collar of my shirt choking me. I tugged at my neck, tearing loose my tie. I should have been happy. I had just married the woman who had brought light back into my hollowed-out life. I should have been at the Regency, dancin
*Avina*The bouncer at the stairs was distracted, leaning down to light a cigarette for a woman in a sequined dress. I stayed low, moving behind a stack of speakers, and bolted up the stairs before he could look up.The second floor was different. The music was muffled here, reduced to a dull, vibrating throb beneath the floorboards. The hallway was lined with heavy, unmarked doors. It smelled like cleaning fluid and old cigarettes. Craning my neck, I saw the buzzcut boy enter the third door on the right. I waited five seconds, my heart hammering against my ribs so hard I thought it might crack a bone. Then I crept to the door and pressed my ear to the wood."...ready for them?" a man’s voice asked. It was deep, gravelly, and sounded like it belonged to someone much older."She's out of it," the buzzcut boy replied. "The sedative hit her hard. She won't remember a thing. Just like you wanted.""Good. Get the others. Tell them the merchandise is prepped."The door opened suddenly. I
* Avina *The buzzing in my ears wasn't just the noise of the party. It was the sound of my soul screaming at the stupidity of the woman I used to be.I looked at them. Oliver. Mason. Cole. In my past life, I had spent years thinking of them as the monsters who slipped away in the dark. I had spent
~AN HOUR BEFORE RONAN ARRIVED~*Avina*One month. That was how long I had clenched my teeth, stuffed down my urge to kill off Xavier and Daphne and just went on pretending like there was nothing going on. But God… it was hard. Every smile I wasted on them, every hug that I endured while my skin
ONE MONTH LATER*Ronan*The air in the boardroom was stagnant.I sat at the head of the obsidian table, staring at a set of projected financial figures for Graves Real Estate. I wasn't reading them. My eyes were fixed on the flickering blue light of the screen, but my mind was stuck in the dark cor
*Avina*I took a taxi to the hospital, my mind spinning. I had an ally I couldn't trust, a husband I had tried to kill, and a lover who was my husband's uncle. The mess was beautiful. It was chaotic. It was exactly what I needed to hide my tracks.The taxi pulled up to the curb of Graves Memorial,







