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Elise Caro was the perfect trophy wife: loyal, obedient, and blindly in love with her mafia husband, Cassian D’Amaro. Until the night she uncovered his betrayal and was silenced-killed in cold blood, and buried like a secret. But fate isn’t done with her. Elise wakes up five years earlier, in her younger body, right before her marriage. With her memories intact and bitterness sharpened, she vows not to fall again. This time, she won’t be his wife. She’ll be his reckoning. As she re-enters Cassian’s orbit under a new identity, he starts falling for her again. But Elise isn’t here for love. She’s here to ruin him.
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Chapter 1 – The Last Night
Elise Caro had been taught that silence was a virtue.
From the moment she could walk in heels and smile without showing teeth, she was raised to be someone’s prize. A good daughter. A good wife. A pretty thing to look at. Say the right thing. Sit straight. Don’t question. Don’t raise your voice. And above all, never embarrass the family.
Tonight, that training served her well.
She sat across from her husband, wrapped in cream silk, the clink of crystal and silverware filling the long silence between them. A city stretched beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, glittering like it had no idea what was about to happen.
Cassian D’Amaro poured her wine with steady hands.
He smiled at her.
She smiled back.
The same way she had a hundred times before. A soft curve of her lips, practised and polite.
"Four years," Cassian said, lifting his glass. "Can you believe it?"
Elise lifted hers, too. Her fingers barely touched the stem. She didn’t trust them not to shake.
“I can,” she murmured, barely touching her own.
The stem trembled in her fingers. Not from nerves. From fury.
The wine tasted like ash.
She should have left two nights ago, when she found the file hidden in his laptop. The one with the numbered offshore accounts, the names of politicians, shell companies, wire transfers, and her own signature forged across them. A scapegoat with a wedding ring.
She hadn't screamed then. Not when she realised what it meant. Not when she understood the only reason she was still alive was because she hadn’t confronted him yet.
Not until now.
The penthouse lights dimmed to a candlelit flicker. The city beyond the windows glowed like a promise she’d never get to keep. Elise watched him eat, drink, laugh softly like nothing in the world could touch him.
Her husband.
Her executioner.
He reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers warm against her cheek.
"You’re quiet tonight."
Elise blinked.
She wanted to scream.
She wanted to smash the crystal glass and drive the jagged stem into his throat. To tell him she knew. That he didn’t win. That she wasn’t afraid.
But she didn’t.
She smiled again. The way she was raised to. The way her mother would have wanted.
"Just thinking," she said.
"About?"
She hesitated. Just for a second.
"You."
His gaze deepened. "Dangerous."
You have no idea, she thought.
She didn’t remember falling asleep — only waking up in the car.
She was cold. Her dress was too thin. No coat. Her skin prickled with awareness as she looked around.
Rafe and Gino sat in the front. Silent. Unreadable.
Cassian sat beside her, scrolling through his phone like it was just another night. As if nothing was about to happen. As if she weren’t being driven to her death.
Her heart began to pound, a sick rhythm climbing her throat.
This was it.
The moment she’d imagined in nightmares. The one she always woke from before the final blow. But this time, there was no waking up.
She turned to him slowly.
"Where are we going?"
He didn’t look at her. "Someplace quiet."
Her stomach twisted. "You forgot my coat."
"No," he said.
He hadn’t forgotten anything.
The woods were still. Too still.
That kind of silence that made your ears ring. That reminded you, nature didn’t scream. It just swallowed.
She stumbled on a root, nearly fell. Rafe grabbed her arm without looking back.
Cassian lit a cigarette.
The scent hit her like a wall. Tobacco, spice, cedarwood — the same cologne he wore on their wedding night. The one that used to make her feel safe. Loved.
Now it made her nauseous.
"Any last words?" Rafe asked, tone dry.
She turned to Cassian. Her eyes burned. "I gave you everything."
He exhaled smoke. "That was your first mistake."
"And your last," she whispered.
One of them raised the gun.
She didn’t scream.
Not for mercy. Not for help.
The shot came fast.
A crack that shattered the silence.
And then — nothing.
But death didn’t come. Not really.
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She Died His Wife, She Returns His Enemy Chapter 20 – The Girl in the Mirror
Elise didn’t sleep.The estate was quiet past midnight — the kind of silence that hums under walls and in between breath. She sat in her suite with the lights low, the fire down to embers, the ring still on her finger and the taste of too many glances clinging to her skin.She should have been tired.But power had a way of keeping the pulse sharp.And tonight, it burned.She moved to the vanity with slow intent. The mirror caught her in fragments — hair undone, mouth too still, collarbone lit in slices of shadow. Her reflection didn’t soften. It didn’t forgive.It waited.She rose.And the gown moved with her.Black silk — nearly sheer — slid down the planes of her body, brushing against bare skin like it didn’t care who watched. It caught the light in ghostly gleams, enough to trace the deep lines of her waist, the sweep of her thighs, the soft dip at the top of each breast.She hadn’t worn anything beneath it.Not because she meant to be seen.But because she wasn’t hiding anymore.
Last Updated : 2025-06-23She Died His Wife, She Returns His Enemy Chapter 19 – Matteo’s Warning
Camila had invited Matteo to the estate for a late-afternoon strategy session. Something to do with donor placement and the Foundation’s upcoming portfolio. Elise hadn’t been asked to join.She didn’t ask why.But when she passed the library and heard Matteo’s voice — low, deliberate — she didn’t stop.She just walked away.—By dusk, the library was supposed to be empty.It wasn’t.She stepped inside without hesitation.The room smelled of old leather and cedar polish. Low light pooled across the rug, softening the carved furniture into suggestion. A decanter glinted like a forgotten temptation.Matteo was still there.She felt him before she saw him — not as sound, but pressure. The air thickened. Space shifted.He stepped into view between the central shelves, holding a slim leather folder, unopened.“Interesting ring,” he said.“It wasn’t yours to comment on,” Elise replied.He moved forward. “That’s never stopped you from wearing things meant for someone else.”“Cassian offered i
Last Updated : 2025-06-23She Died His Wife, She Returns His Enemy Chapter 18 – The Ring He Never Chose
Cassian handed her the note late in the afternoon, while she was reviewing the Cruz documentation at the drawing room table. He didn’t ask what she was reading. He didn’t interrupt.He just placed the folded card beside her elbow.“Seven o’clock,” he said. “Rooftop.”She looked at the envelope, then at him.“Is this an order?”“No,” he said. “An opportunity.”The card was cream stock. No seal. No flourish.Inside, in his handwriting:Wear something that doesn’t apologize. — C—By sunset, the Caro estate’s rooftop had been cleared of its usual furniture. In its place stood a low table with a bottle of scotch, two heavy crystal glasses, and an old wooden box. Cassian stood at the railing, facing the skyline, sleeves rolled, his jacket slung over the back of a chair.She stepped into the space without slowing.Her dress was black, deep, and glitter-laced. A slip of starlight against her skin. It caught every breath of movement, clung like heat, and shimmered like threat. It dipped low a
Last Updated : 2025-06-23She Died His Wife, She Returns His Enemy Chapter 17 – Elena Cruz is Born
Elena Cruz didn’t exist on paper until Elise decided she did.The apartment came first — a walk-up above a closed florist on Via Danzico. Third floor. No elevator. The kind of place that didn’t ask questions and kept its lights dim even in daylight. She signed the lease in silence, using one of the old cover identities Gerardo Valez had drafted for her family’s “quiet accounts” back when she was still too obedient to know what they were for.This time, she knew.The walls were bare, the windows locked. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic, like someone had wiped away something that shouldn’t have been left behind. There were no family portraits here. No ancestral oil paintings. Just blank walls. Clean, unfinished. The way she liked it.Elise set her single suitcase on the narrow table by the window. It held only what she needed: a gray coat, a burner phone, two folders, and a black fountain pen.Then she waited.Gerardo arrived at 9:03 a.m.He had aged better than most men in his bus
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Cassian didn’t mention the scream.Not the next day.Not the day after.But Elise noticed other things.He was still in the house.Camila had arranged it — “for appearances,” she’d said. A show of harmony. Of unity.To Elise, it was surveillance dressed as strategy.But she used it anyway.—He stopped deferring to Camila during meetings. Cancelled an outing arranged by the family council — one Elise was meant to attend for optics. When the guests asked why, he simply said, “Priorities changed.”He didn’t name her.But she felt the weight of it anyway.Not as affection.As strategy.—The morning after, Camila received a private call from the Foundation’s board and left the estate without comment.Elise took the opening.She crossed to the west wing.Knocked once on the study door.Cassian opened it.No tie. No jacket. Just a pressed shirt and quiet wariness.“Elise.”“Are you cancelling the gala appearance because of me?”He hesitated.“Yes.”“Why?”He stepped aside. She entered with
Last Updated : 2025-06-23She Died His Wife, She Returns His Enemy Chapter 15 – Bruises You Can’t See
Elise didn’t speak of the gallery incident.Not to Camila. Not in her journal. She cleaned the blade. Burned the envelope. Acted like it hadn’t touched her.But the quiet that followed settled wrong in her chest.Matteo had sent her into danger, then covered her with protection.Her body pretended it didn’t matter.Her sleep said otherwise.The dream wasn’t new.But it had waited—quiet, patient—for the right moment to return.—Elise ran through the trees.Dark ones. Wet with silence. Not chasing, not fleeing. Just moving. Fast. Her boots caught roots. Her breath scraped. She knew what came next.Gunfire.Not a sound.A sensation.Then nothing.Except—A single voice.Her name.Said not in hate.But regret.—She woke gasping.Sheets tangled. Skin damp. The air in her room felt thinner than it should. She sat up too fast, elbows locked, heart stuttering against bone.The lamp was still on.Soft amber glow.It was past midnight.She stood slowly, moved toward the window. Opened it just
Last Updated : 2025-06-22
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