Aria Vale sat in front of her vanity, her gaze fixed on her reflection. Her fingers trembled slightly as she pinned her hair up—perfectly, tightly, like her mother used to teach her. There was something sacred in the ritual. A shield of beauty. A mask of poise.
But under the silk blouse and the gentle blush, her eyes glinted with something sharp.
Determination. Strategy. Vengeance.
This was no longer the girl who trusted too easily or bowed her head to keep the peace. She had died once. She wouldn't live this life as prey again.
She would be the hunter.
---
The car pulled up in front of Vale Luxe, her mother's once-flourishing fashion house. Now, it was only a shadow of what it had been. A boutique shell, soon to be devoured by a slow, quiet bankruptcy—if her father and his lovely second wife had anything to say about it.
Aria stepped out and stared up at the gold-lettered sign. It was faded now, corners chipped, the aura of luxury dimmed by time and mismanagement.
But to Aria, it still glowed like a promise.
Inside, the showroom was almost empty. Only two clerks wandered the floor. One of them blinked in surprise. "Miss Aria?"
She smiled. "I'm here to see my mother."
"Of course—she's in the back office. One moment, please."
Aria walked slowly through the rows of outdated displays and dusty mannequins. This was what they had done to her mother's legacy. Stolen the designers. The funding. The clients.
Her father had stripped it bare, transferred assets, and handed them to his new family.
All under the guise of "business reallocation."
Aria's nails dug into her palm.
Never again.
---
Her mother looked up from her desk when Aria entered. Fatigue lined her delicate face. She had aged in fear, not years. The stress of keeping the company afloat had already begun, even now—too early, in this second life.
"Aria," she said gently, "I wasn't expecting you this morning. You should be resting."
"I've rested long enough," Aria replied. She walked to the desk and placed a folder in front of her. "These are the contact details for three of the junior designers Blackthorn Corporation is scouting this quarter."
Her mother blinked. "Where did you get these?"
"I listened," she said simply. "You once taught me how powerful it is to listen before speaking."
Her mother's eyes welled with tears, though she smiled. "You remembered that?"
"I remember everything."
Aria leaned closer, lowering her voice. "I'm going to save this company, Mom. I'm going to make it stronger than ever. But I need you to trust me."
Her mother hesitated. "Your father—"
"I'm not afraid of him."
The room fell silent. Her mother searched her eyes, uncertain. But Aria didn't look away.
Finally, she nodded. "Then I'll trust you."
---
That afternoon, Aria stood in the hallway of Blackthorn Tower—thirty floors above the city, dressed in an ivory sheath dress and soft nude heels. The interns milled around her, nervously whispering. All waiting for the elevator that would take them to the executive floor for the welcome seminar.
Aria's hands were steady.
Because she knew who would be waiting.
The doors slid open with a soft chime. The group filed in. And at the front of the conference room, standing like a storm in a suit, was Lucien Blackthorn.
Tall. Impeccable. Cold.
His eyes—icy silver, calculating—swept across the room without emotion. When they met hers, Aria felt her heart stop.
He didn't recognize her.
Of course he didn't.
In this life, they'd barely met.
Not yet.
But oh… she remembered him. Every guarded glance, every unspoken warning. The way he'd stood between her and a bullet. The way he'd whispered her name with blood on his lips.
Aria…
She forced herself to look away before her emotions betrayed her.
This wasn't the time.
She had to be smart.
---
Lucien's voice was smooth as steel when he began to speak. "At Blackthorn, we do not reward effort. We reward execution. Loyalty. Precision. If you're here to make friends, leave now."
Someone near the front swallowed audibly.
Aria's lips twitched. He hadn't changed at all.
Good.
She needed that ruthlessness.
She needed him to be exactly who he'd always been—until she could become his weakness.
I'll make you fall for me, she thought. Even if I have to break my heart in the process.
---
Two hours later, Aria exited the building with a plan already blooming in her mind.
It was time to set the trap.
---
That evening, the first act began.
Aria arrived fashionably late to the internship mixer held in the rooftop garden of a hotel downtown. She wore a crimson cocktail dress—elegant, modest, but tailored like armor. Her hair curled just enough to soften her eyes, but her lips were painted a bold, impossible red.
Heads turned.
So did his.
Lucien stood near the bar, speaking to a tall man in a navy suit. His silver eyes met hers again—and this time, something flickered.
Recognition?
No.
But curiosity.
Aria smiled, then turned her back on him.
Let him come to her.
---
"Aria?"
A familiar, high-pitched voice interrupted her calm.
She turned slowly.
And there she was.
Brielle Vale.
Her stepsister. Dressed in soft pink chiffon, her hair curled into perfect waves, and a carefully manufactured smile plastered across her lips.
Just like she used to.
"Brielle," Aria said warmly. "What a surprise. I didn't know you were interning with Blackthorn."
Brielle let out a tinkling laugh. "Daddy pulled some strings. You know how he is." She leaned in. "I heard you fainted on orientation day. Again."
Aria smiled wider. "Oh, you know me. I tend to fall when I'm about to rise."
Brielle blinked, confused. Then forced another laugh.
Aria turned to pour herself a drink—and let Brielle watch as Lucien's eyes followed her.
---
Later that night, when most of the interns had left and the stars glittered above the city, Aria sat at the edge of the rooftop, drink untouched.
The wind was cool. Soft. Freeing.
"Drinking alone?"
The voice was smooth. Confident.
Aria turned, already knowing who it was.
Ethan Voss.
Her ex-fiancé.
The man who betrayed her.
The man who helped kill her.
He looked the same. Tall, handsome, charming. The same easy smirk. The same calculating eyes.
Only now, she was the one wearing the mask.
"Ethan," she said sweetly. "It's been a while."
He raised a brow. "Didn't expect you to show up here. I thought you were still chasing charity work and faded dreams."
She laughed. "Well, I decided to try something new. Power."
Ethan's gaze sharpened slightly.
"You've changed," he murmured.
"Have I?"
He stepped closer. "I like it."
She smiled, her expression honeyed and deadly.
"I know."
Little did he know that she was reborn and she back for revenge and to make him in love with her
---