The Billionaire’s Ex-Dead Wife

Ugh. My head.I blinked, wincing at the flood of sunlight pouring into the massive bedroom like it was trying to blind me into submission.“Where the hell am I?” I croaked.Silk sheets. A crystal chandelier. Walls that probably cost more than my soul. This wasn’t my student dorm. And unless I had a secret sugar daddy, I was seriously in someone else’s tax bracket.I sat up—and nearly screamed when I caught sight of the mirror across the room.“What the f—”I scrambled out of bed and stumbled to the mirror. My heart skidded in my chest.Hazel eyes. Wavy, blonde hair that looked like it lost a fight with a hairbrush ten years ago. Blonde? Like a bimbo. Damn girl. Thin frame. Chapped lips. Slight bruise on the temple.Oh. My. God.I was staring at Arianna Salvatore.I’m alive but I’m her.The same Arianna I cursed out last night. The weak, hopeless, man-obsessed disaster of a female lead from the book I threw across the room. The one who later became a side character.She was the vision

There are many things I expected to do in my second life.Slap my sister? Check.Humiliate a billionaire? Double check.Spit in a man’s eye while holding a taco? Triple check with salsa on top.But waking up in a five-poster bed with 1200-thread count sheets in a palace-sized bedroom that smells like cologne and cruelty? That’s new.I stretched like a cat and smirked at the memory of last night. Damian storming to the bathroom, eyes burning, Vivian sobbing like her audition for “Victim of the Year” just flopped. Beautiful.I reached for the intercom. “Hello, is room service a thing in this place or do I still have to beg for toast like Arianna used to?”A pause. Then:“Mrs. Salvatore... breakfast will be brought to your room.”Progress.I swung my legs out of bed and stared at my reflection. Silk robe. Tousled curls. Lips still stained from yesterday’s lipstick of vengeance.“Arianna,” I whispered to the mirror. “I liked you at the beginning of the book.”You know the part—where s

Chapter 6Beep. Beep. Beep.The rhythmic sound was the first thing I noticed followed by the antiseptic scent and the blinding white light above me.Hospital.I blinked, disoriented, then looked down at myself. Hospital gown. IV drip. Cold toes sticking out from thin blankets.Wait.Was I…?I shot upright.“Am I back?” I whispered. “Did I… go home?”I stared at my hands like they were going to turn into teenage versions of themselves. “No way.”I touched my face, then my chest. I was alive. Breathing. Human. Which meant…“Yes!” I whispered. “I’m Ashley again!”My heart soared. I could almost hear the dorm room fridge humming in the background. No more weird family dinners. No more fake husband. No more psychotic sister.And also… no more walk-in closet.Wait.My eyes widened.“No more Hermes bag. No more Louboutins. No more iced champagne served in bathtubs or chauffeurs calling me madam.”I groaned. “I’m broke again.”“Ugh, goodbye luxury. Hello ramen noodles and dorm Wi-Fi.”I laid

“Arianna."His voice blazed through the music.I turned, no, stumbled toward the sound, heels wobbling, brain fuzzed with liquor and laughter.Oh crap.Damian Salvatore.Stone-faced. Furious. Unamused.Emily shot to her feet beside me. “I tried to stop her,” she blurted, hands up like a guilty accomplice in a mission gone wrong.Damian didn’t even look at her. He simply turned to his men and said, “Shut it down. The club ceases to exist after today.”The bouncers moved like trained men. Lights dimmed. Music died. My party ended. “Don’t goooo,” I stuttered. The manager paled, then actually wet himself. Just like that. “Y-Yes, Mr. Salvatore.”“You peed on your pants,” I giggled.“Make sure none of this men are able to use their hands for a long time,” Damian snapped.Before I could fully register what was happening, I was airborne.He’d scooped me up like I weighed nothing, tossed over his shoulder like some feral toddler mid-tantrum.“Put me down, you rude jerk,” I slurred, smacking

Caden Voss.I hope I got that right.Why wasn’t such a handsome man mentioned in the book? Was he a background blur? A passing sentence? A forgotten side character?Because this man?This man was not a minor anything.He had the face of a tortured hero and the vibe of someone who probably had at least one tragic past.But not anymore.He may have been minor before, but to me? He just got promoted to lead.“I’m sorry about the other day,” I said softly. “I didn’t get to thank you properly. For saving me.”He waved it off like it was nothing. “Are you okay?”“I should be asking you,” I muttered. “Shit, your coat’s ruined. I got you drenched.”“It’s nothing, Arianna.”The way he looked at me… not like a stranger. Not like someone seeing a face. No. It was like he saw me the girl beneath the fake identity. The outsider stuck in the wrong book.And finally, finally, I was being noticed by a man who didn’t have a personal vendetta against my existence.Caden, or whatever, I thought. You jus