The morning dragged with cruel slowness.
Every tick of the gilded clock on her bedroom wall gnawed at Ariella's nerves, each second pulling her closer to the moment she had been dreading and anticipating in equal measure.
Ethan Lancaster was coming.
Her fiancé. Her executioner.
Her betrayer.
The same man who had kissed her hands under chandeliers, whispered false promises beneath the stars, and watched with calm eyes as her life bled away.
But now… now she was no longer the same naive girl who once fluttered at the sight of his smile.
Now she was something else. Something sharper.
And she was ready.
Maria hummed softly as she fastened the last button of Ariella's gown, smoothing out the fabric with practiced hands.
"You look beautiful, miss," the maid said warmly. "Lord Ethan will be delighted to see you."
Ariella forced a small smile into her reflection, though inside her stomach twisted.
Delighted?
Oh yes, he would be delighted. Delighted to see his pawn, his obedient fiancée, his stepping stone into her father's wealth.
Not this time.
The mirror showed her the picture of elegance: a young lady draped in pale blue silk, her long dark hair cascading over her shoulders like midnight waves, her lips a soft rose pink. Innocent. Untouched.
Exactly as Ethan remembered her.
Her smile deepened slightly, but the curve of her lips was laced with poison.
"Thank you, Maria," she murmured.
By noon, the Lancaster carriage arrived.
Ariella stood at the window of the sitting room, watching as liveried servants opened the heavy doors to reveal him.
Ethan Lancaster.
Tall, poised, a vision of aristocratic grace. His hair, dark as raven feathers, gleamed in the sun. His golden eyes oh, how they had once entranced her swept over the estate with calculated charm.
In her first life, that gaze had melted her.
Now, it made her skin crawl.
Her heart pounded against her ribs, not from love but from fury, from the heavy weight of memory pressing down on her chest.
He stepped out with flowers in hand. White lilies.
The same flowers he had given her back then.
The same flowers that had sat on her coffin.
Ariella's nails bit into her palm. You dare bring me these again?
But she schooled her expression, forcing her lips into a demure smile. The game had begun, and she would play her role perfectly.
When Ethan entered the sitting room, his eyes lit up as if the world itself brightened at her presence. He bowed smoothly, presenting the lilies.
"My dearest Ariella," he said, his voice a velvet caress. "You grow lovelier with every passing day."
How easily the lies slipped from his lips.
Ariella accepted the flowers, her fingers brushing his just as they had before. The faint warmth of his touch rippled through her skin, but instead of flustering her, it burned like acid.
"Lord Ethan," she replied, her tone gentle but cool. "You flatter me."
Her restraint made his brows twitch in the faintest surprise. In her past life, she had giggled, blushed, stammered. But now she offered nothing but polite distance.
Ethan hid his reaction behind a charming smile, settling into the seat across from her. "It is only the truth. You are a jewel among women."
Ariella lowered her gaze, pretending to blush. Inside, her mind was razor-sharp.
How many times did you rehearse those lines? How many girls before me did you ensnare with that smile?
Maria poured tea and quietly excused herself, leaving them alone.
The silence between them stretched. Ethan studied her carefully, like a hunter measuring his prey's movements.
And Ariella studied him back.
Every flicker of his eyes. Every curl of his lips. Every pause in his speech.
This time, she would not be blinded.
"Your father tells me you've been studying more diligently," Ethan began, his tone smooth as honey.
"Yes," Ariella replied. She tilted her head, feigning innocence. "I realized it is important to be prepared. After all, the future is uncertain, isn't it?"
A faint gleam passed through Ethan's gaze, as though weighing her words.
"In this uncertain world," he said softly, leaning closer, "the only thing you can count on is me."
Her chest tightened not with love, but with fury barely contained. Count on you? You were the knife at my throat.
But she smiled sweetly, her lashes lowering. "I hope so."
Her voice was gentle, but inside, her vow burned: Not this time, Ethan. You will count on me. And you will regret it.
The conversation drifted, polite and shallow, yet beneath it currents of steel clashed silently.
Ethan believed he was weaving his net again, the same familiar game.
But Ariella was no longer his prey. She was the serpent waiting in the grass, biding her time.
And when the moment was right, she would strike.
The porcelain teacup was warm against Ariella's fingers, the faint aroma of jasmine drifting upward like a fragile mist. Across from her, Ethan raised his own cup with leisurely grace, every motion deliberate, as though the simple act of sipping tea was another tool of his charm.
Ariella mirrored him, but her eyes never left his face.
In my last life, I believed every gesture meant sincerity. Now I see it for what it is performance.
Ethan set his cup down, the faintest smile curling at his lips. "Do you remember the last spring festival, Ariella? You wore that pale rose gown. I could hardly take my eyes off you."
Her heart clenched. She remembered it well. That day had been the first time Selena whispered doubt into her ear'Ethan only compliments you because he has to. He's a Lancaster, you're just useful to him.' Ariella had brushed it aside then, but the seed had been planted.
Now, hearing Ethan's words again, she caught the double edge in them.
He remembers. Not because he cherished the moment, but because every detail of my life was a piece on his board.
Ariella tilted her head, feigning a shy smile. "I remember. Though I think your attention wandered to many others that evening."
The words slipped like silk, but underneath, they were a knife.
For the first time, Ethan's mask cracked. Only slightly just the faintest flicker of surprise in his golden eyes.
Then the smile returned. "You wound me, my dear. There is no woman who could hold my gaze as you do."
Liar.