Mia's POV
Ethan steps closer with the knife, and I do the only thing I can think of—I scream.
"HELP! SOMEONE HELP ME!"
Ethan's eyes go wide with panic. "Shut up! I'm not going to hurt you, I just—"
"Then put the knife down!" My voice echoes off the buildings. People are starting to look now, pulling out phones.
Ethan realizes his mistake too late. Security guards burst out of Seoul Star Entertainment's doors. Ethan drops the knife and runs, disappearing around the corner like the coward he is.
A guard picks up the knife with a cloth. "Are you okay, miss? Do you need to file a report?"
My whole body is shaking. "No. I just... I need to go home."
The guard insists on calling me a cab. During the ride, I can't stop replaying everything. Ethan with a knife. The mysterious text about the "real Phoenix." Adrian's gray eyes when he said "she's mine."
What is happening to my life?
Back at my apartment, I lock every lock and push my dresser against the door. My phone won't stop buzzing—texts from Sophia begging to talk, calls from Ethan that I don't answer, and one message from an unknown number:
"The offer still stands. Riverside Park. 10 PM. Come alone or stay blind forever."
I stare at that message until my vision blurs. Whoever sent it knows about the rebirth. They claim Adrian is using me. They might be setting a trap... or they might be the only person telling me the truth.
I don't sleep. I pace my tiny apartment all night, jumping at every sound. When dawn finally breaks, I'm exhausted but wired, running on pure adrenaline.
At 7:45 AM, my phone rings. Unknown number.
"Hello?" My voice cracks.
"Ms. Chen?" A professional woman's voice. "This is Apex Entertainment. Your car will arrive in fifteen minutes."
Adrian. The contract. I'd almost forgotten in all the chaos.
"I'll be ready," I say, even though I'm not ready for anything.
I throw on clean clothes and try to make my face look less like a zombie. It doesn't really work. The circles under my eyes are dark purple, and my hands won't stop shaking.
At exactly 8:00 AM, a sleek black car pulls up. The kind of car that costs more than most people make in a year. The driver opens the door for me without a word.
I slide into leather seats so soft they feel like clouds. The door closes with a heavy, expensive thunk, and we glide into traffic.
My phone buzzes. Another unknown number, another message:
"You're making a mistake. He's a liar. Turn back now."
I shove my phone in my bag. I can't deal with this right now.
The drive takes twenty minutes. When we pull up to Apex Entertainment, my breath catches. It's a massive glass tower that reflects the morning sun like a mirror. Everything about it screams power and money and success.
Everything I never had in my first life.
The driver opens my door. "Ms. Chen? Mr. Chen is waiting inside for you."
I step out on wobbly legs. The lobby is all marble and glass, with a waterfall feature that probably costs more than my entire apartment building. People in expensive suits rush past, moving with purpose.
"Mia Chen?" A warm voice makes me turn.
A handsome man approaches with an easy smile. He's younger than Adrian, maybe late twenties, with kind eyes that crinkle at the corners. "I'm Marcus Chen. Adrian's best friend and Apex's CFO. Welcome."
He shakes my hand firmly, and unlike Victor's touch yesterday, this one feels safe. Professional.
"Adrian's waiting upstairs," Marcus says, leading me to a private elevator. "Fair warning—he's intense. Especially with new talent. Don't let him intimidate you."
The elevator is all mirrors and soft music. As we rise, Marcus studies me. "You look exhausted. Rough night?"
"You could say that." I don't elaborate.
"Adrian mentioned you had some trouble with your ex-boyfriend yesterday. Ethan Park?" Marcus's expression hardens. "I've already sent our legal team to file a restraining order. Nobody threatens our artists."
"I'm not your artist yet—"
"Oh, you will be." Marcus's smile is confident. "Adrian doesn't recruit personally unless he sees something special. And he sees something very special in you."
The elevator doors open onto the top floor. Floor-to-ceiling windows show the entire city spread out below us. It's dizzying and beautiful and terrifying.
Marcus leads me down a hallway to massive double doors. He knocks twice.
"Come in." Adrian's voice, muffled by wood.
Marcus opens the door and gestures for me to enter. "Good luck," he whispers.
The office is enormous. Adrian sits behind a desk that looks like it's made of black glass, the city skyline framing him like a painting. He's in another perfectly tailored suit, looking like he owns the world.
Maybe he does.
"Sit down, Mia Chen." He gestures to the chair across from him. "Let's talk about making you a star."
I sit, trying to ignore how my heart is hammering. "Before we talk about that, I need to ask you something."
His eyebrow raises slightly. "Go ahead."
"Are you really the Phoenix? The one who sent me those first messages?"
Something flickers across his face. For just a moment, his perfect mask cracks. "Why do you ask?"
"Because someone else contacted me last night. They said they're the REAL Phoenix. They said you're lying to me. That you're using me." I lean forward, needing to see his eyes. "So I need to know—is any of this real? Or am I just another business deal to you?"
Adrian stands slowly, walking around the desk. He leans against it, so close I can smell his cologne. "What did this other person say exactly?"
"That you came back to use me. That you'll destroy me when you're done." My voice shakes. "They want to meet me tonight to tell me the truth about why we both came back from death."
"And you're considering going?" His voice is dangerously soft.
"I need answers, Adrian. You tell me you had visions of me dying. That you've been preparing for six months. But you won't tell me WHY. Why do you care what happens to me? What do you get out of this?"
We stare at each other. The air between us feels electric, charged with tension.
Finally, Adrian speaks: "You want the truth? Fine. I'll give you the truth."
He pulls out his phone, scrolls through something, then hands it to me. "Read this."
It's an old news article from three years in the future—the date I would have died on that mall stage. But that's not what makes my hands start shaking.
It's the second article, dated one week later:
"BILLIONAIRE ADRIAN STEELE FOUND DEAD IN APPARENT SUICIDE. SOURCES SAY HE WAS DEVASTATED BY FAILURE TO SAVE LOCAL SINGER."
Below it is a photo. Adrian's body being carried out on a stretcher. And in the corner of the photo, barely visible, is another picture—a memorial poster with my face on it from the mall stage collapse.
I look up at Adrian, not understanding. "Why would my death make you—"
"Because in my first life, I was too late." His voice cracks, raw with emotion. "I had the visions of you dying, but I ignored them. Thought they were just nightmares. By the time I realized they were real and tried to find you, you were already dead. And I couldn't live with that failure. So I..." He gestures to the article.
"You killed yourself because you couldn't save me?" I whisper. "But we'd never even met—"
"The visions started three months before you died. Every night, I saw you falling. Heard you singing. Felt your fear." His gray eyes are burning now, desperate. "I became obsessed with finding you, saving you, but I was too slow. Too arrogant. I thought I had time. And then you were gone, and it was my fault."
My head is spinning. "So you came back to fix that mistake?"
"I came back to save you, yes. But not just from the stage collapse." He moves closer, and I can see the intensity radiating off him. "I came back to save you from everything—from Sophia, from Ethan, from Victor, from this entire toxic industry that would have eaten you alive. I came back to make sure that this time, you don't just survive. You THRIVE."
It sounds romantic. Desperate. Real.
But something doesn't add up.
"If you died a week after me," I say slowly, "then how did you come back six months before I did?"
Adrian freezes. His entire body goes rigid.
"What?" His voice is barely a whisper.
"You said you've been back for six months. But I just came back yesterday. So if we died a week apart..." My brain works through the math. "That means you should have come back a week before me. Not six months."
The color drains from Adrian's face.
Behind me, the office door opens.
Marcus's voice, no longer warm: "Because he's lying, Mia. About all of it."
I spin around. Marcus stands in the doorway, but he's not alone.
Beside him is someone I never expected to see.
My mother.
Who died five years ago.