Chapter 1 — The Night She Died
Rain crashed against the glass walls of the penthouse, blurring the lights of the city below. Lightning slit the sky open, flashing across Ariana Blaze's reflection in the window. She looked like a ghost—barefoot, trembling, dressed in the silk nightgown her husband had once said made her look like the stars he could never touch.
Behind her, the door burst open.
"Sign it."
Damien Cole's voice was calm, too calm. His tailored suit was spotless, his silver cufflinks catching the storm's light. In his hand was a folder—the divorce papers she had refused to acknowledge for weeks.
Ariana turned slowly. Her eyes were red-rimmed but dry now. She had cried enough.
"I won't," she whispered. "Not until you tell me why."
Damien's jaw tightened. "You know why."
"No," she said, her voice cracking, "I don't. I gave you everything—my company, my name, my loyalty. I even gave up myself. What did I do so wrong that you'd throw me to the wolves?"
He didn't answer. He simply stepped aside.
Selena Voss entered, perfume thick and sweet, smile sharp as glass. Ariana's oldest friend.
"Darling," Selena purred, "you really should've known better. The board knows. The investors know. You funneled money to offshore accounts, didn't you?"
Ariana stared at her. "You forged those documents."
Selena tilted her head, mocking pity. "Who will believe you? The evidence is already public."
Damien's silence cut deeper than any lie. He believed Selena.
For the first time, Ariana saw it clearly—the distance in his eyes, the way he looked at her as if she were a stranger.
The thunder outside swallowed her scream.
She lunged toward Selena, but Damien caught her wrists. His grip was iron.
"Enough," he said. "The police are on their way."
She stopped fighting. Slowly, she lifted her face to him.
"Police?" she whispered. "You called them?"
Damien's eyes flickered—guilt or hesitation, she couldn't tell.
"You confessed everything in the emails," he said.
"What emails?"
He didn't answer.
Selena's laughter filled the room like poison. "Don't worry, Ari. I'll take care of him after you're gone."
Ariana went still. Something inside her shattered quietly, like a glass heart dropped onto marble. She pulled free from Damien's hands, her lips curling into a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"Then congratulations," she said softly. "You've both won."
She turned, walking barefoot toward the balcony. The rain whipped against her face, cold and sharp. Wind tore at her hair. The city roared below—a million lights, none of them hers.
"Ariana!" Damien's voice finally broke. "Don't—"
She looked back once.
"You took everything," she said. "But you won't have my soul."
Lightning flashed.
And then she was gone.
---
She woke to the scent of roses and sunlight.
For a long moment she didn't move. Her chest rose and fell, the air thick and warm instead of cold and metallic. There was no rain, no blood, no pain. Only the faint ticking of a clock and the hum of morning traffic.
Ariana opened her eyes.
She was lying in her old apartment—the tiny one she had owned before her marriage, before Damien Cole had walked into her life. The paint on the wall was the same faded cream. Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, screen cracked exactly where she remembered dropping it seven years ago.
Seven years ago.
Her hands trembled as she touched her face. The mirror on the wall showed a younger woman—softer features, brighter eyes, unscarred skin. Her wedding ring was gone. Her engagement ring had never existed.
She stumbled to her desk, grabbed a newspaper, and stared at the date.
April 14th, 20--.
Her breath caught. That was the day she first met Damien.
The world tilted. She sank to her knees, laughing and sobbing at once. She remembered the balcony, the fall, the darkness—and then light. A second chance.
Her laughter died. The memories of betrayal, of Selena's smirk, of Damien's cold eyes—they all burned inside her chest.
"No," she whispered. "Not again."
She rose, steady now, every motion deliberate. She washed her face, tied her hair, and looked at herself in the mirror until the shaking stopped.
"I died loving you," she told the reflection. "This time, you'll die regretting me."
---
By evening she was dressed in black—a sharp suit that hugged her frame, nothing like the soft dresses she used to wear. Her eyes were ice. The world that had once swallowed her whole would now learn what it meant to choke on its own greed.
Her phone rang. The caller ID read Damien Cole – Cole Enterprises.
The same number she had once waited for in sleepless nights.
She let it ring once, twice, then answered.
"Miss Blaze," his voice was deeper, controlled. "This is Damien Cole. I believe we're scheduled to discuss your company's acquisition."
Ariana smiled, voice smooth as silk. "Of course, Mr. Cole. I've been expecting your call."
He paused, just for a heartbeat, as if something in her tone unsettled him.
"Then I'll see you tomorrow at nine."
The line went dead.
Ariana lowered the phone, her reflection gleaming in the window again—this time not a ghost but a storm in human form.
"Tomorrow," she w
hispered. "Let's begin again."
Thunder rolled in the distance, softer now, like a promise.
---
End of Chapter 1