Aria stood at the gates of St. Rosamund's Academy, a prestigious private school lined with rose-colored ivy and rumors sharper than glass. The halls hadn't changed since her first life—same polished floors, same golden crests on the walls, same perfect masks worn by poisonous mouths.
But this time, Aria was different.
She stepped inside, her head held high, knowing the whispers would start the moment she passed.
"Isn't that Aria Vale?"
"Did you hear? She fainted during Blackthorn orientation."
"I heard she begged her dad to get her into Blackthorn but got rejected. Brielle got in, though."
"She always looks like she's judging everyone."
Aria kept walking.
Let them talk.
They didn't know the truth. They didn't know she had once died believing these people were her friends—right before they watched her fall without blinking.
Now she was back. And she would wear their hate like armor.
---
By third period, the air was thick with fake kindness.
"Ariaaa!" Brielle sang as she entered the classroom in her pastel-pink uniform sweater—custom hemmed to show just enough skin.
Every girl turned. Every guy leaned forward.
"Come sit with me!" Brielle gestured to the empty seat beside her. "You must be tired from all that stress lately."
Aria smiled coolly. "How thoughtful of you. But I'd rather sit alone."
Gasps fluttered. Brielle's smile wavered for a second—then recovered.
"Still the ice queen," someone whispered.
Aria opened her notebook and didn't respond. She didn't need their approval. She needed their underestimation.
---
After class, the cafeteria was bustling. Brielle sat with a table full of admirers—laughing like she hadn't just failed another math quiz.
"She's so real," one of the girls gushed.
"I love that she doesn't even care about grades," another added. "She's just naturally charming."
Brielle caught Aria passing with her tray and leaned back with a fake-innocent smile. "Ari, do you want to join us? We were just talking about Lucien Blackthorn. I heard he might show up at the Autumn Gala next week."
The name struck like lightning. Aria didn't flinch.
"Oh?" she said sweetly. "Shouldn't you worry about passing midterms first? Or did Daddy buy you those too?"
The table went dead silent.
Brielle's eyes flared. "Excuse me?"
Aria didn't stop walking.
Let the game begin.
---
That evening, Aria changed into a midnight-blue silk dress, flawless and understated, for the fashion gala hosted by Blackthorn Corporation. The event was meant to spotlight young designers and brands on the rise—and Vale Luxe had been offered a slot.
Lucien would be there.
So would Ethan.
She stepped into the ballroom on her mother's arm, surrounded by the glittering elite of the city. Velvet chairs, glass chandeliers, violins humming beneath laughter.
"Aria?" someone called.
She turned to find a woman in a sharp red dress striding toward her. Vivian Cross—former fashion editor, now an influencer with millions of followers and an even bigger ego.
"Well, if it isn't the Vale family," Vivian said, eyeing Aria. "How poetic. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes of… bankruptcy."
Aria smiled. "And yet you still found time to attend. I suppose ashes still matter."
Vivian's brow twitched.
Aria turned her attention elsewhere—only to find a tall man with messy black hair and a wolfish grin watching her.
Kai Renley.
He raised his champagne flute in a mock salute. "Now that was impressive."
"Are you a fan of drama or fashion, Mr…?"
"Renley. Kai Renley. I dabble in both. I also happen to own the firm that just bought a third of Blackthorn's European shares."
Aria's eyes narrowed.
Interesting.
"I don't remember inviting you into my life," she said.
He grinned. "Oh, I never wait for invitations. That's how I spot the real players."
She didn't trust him. But she also didn't look away.
---
Meanwhile, across the room, Lucien Blackthorn stood watching her like a man trying to solve a puzzle. Beside him, his right-hand man, Devon Hale, leaned in.
"She's not who she pretends to be," Devon muttered. "She's playing a game."
"I know," Lucien said, eyes still locked on her. "I just haven't figured out why."
"You want me to dig?"
"Not yet."
Lucien watched as Ethan approached Aria with a confident swagger.
Something about it made Lucien's jaw tighten.
---
"Aria," Ethan drawled as he stopped in front of her. "You look…"
She tilted her head. "Alive?"
He chuckled. "I was going to say breathtaking."
She arched a brow. "Pity. I was aiming for dangerous."
Ethan leaned in, lowering his voice. "I've missed you."
She laughed softly. "Have you?"
"I made mistakes," he said. "But you and I—we made sense once."
Aria smiled.
Yes, she thought, we made sense until you stabbed me in the back.
Out loud, she murmured, "Maybe in another life."
He took that as hope.
She watched his delusion grow.
Good.
---
A bell chimed, drawing everyone's attention. The runway show was about to begin.
Aria excused herself and slipped into the hall to check on her mother's team—only to run straight into Lucien.
He looked… tired. Cold. Beautiful.
"Miss Vale," he said, voice like frost.
"Mr. Blackthorn," she replied.
He studied her.
"You don't belong here," he said finally.
"I do. I just don't need your permission."
Lucien stepped closer. "You're hiding something."
"I'm wearing silk," she said, brushing past him. "There's nowhere to hide."
His hand caught her wrist—not roughly, but firmly. His gaze sharpened. "Stay out of my way."
Aria smiled, leaning just close enough to unsettle him. "That depends. Do you plan to stand in mine?"
---
The show was a success.
Vale Luxe received polite applause. Nothing flashy. But enough.
Brielle, who had managed to wrangle a front-row seat beside Kai Renley, pouted as Lucien walked past her without sparing a glance.
When he stopped near Aria, Brielle's eyes narrowed.
"You're just trying to get attention," she hissed in the hallway later. "You think acting cold makes you mysterious? It just makes you pathetic."
Aria paused.
"Sweet Brielle," she said, voice like silk-wrapped venom. "You couldn't compete with me in class, so you're trying to compete in love?"
Brielle flushed. "Lucien doesn't even like you!"
Aria leaned in. "And yet you're the one screaming in a hallway."
---
The next morning at school, the whispers hit a new pitch.
"Brielle looked amazing at the gala."
"I heard Lucien might be dating her."
"Aria was there too, but like… no one cared."
Aria didn't respond.
Because by next week, the same students would be talking about her. Her power. Her control. Her rise.
She just had to wait.
---
At lunch, Ethan slid into the seat across from her.
"You didn't text back."
"I wasn't planning to."
He smirked. "You're still pretending you don't care, but I know you do. You always do."
Aria tilted her head. "And what if I said I still had feelings for you?"
Ethan leaned forward. "Then I'd say we deserve another chance."
She smiled.
"You always were easy to fool."
He froze.
She stood.
"Thanks for confirming how little you've changed."
As she walked away, she felt Lucien's eyes on her again—from across the quad.
---
That night, Aria lay in bed and looked up at the ceiling.
Her life was beginning to unravel.
But this time, she was the one pulling the strings.