Chapter 1

Erica's eyes fluttered open, the unfamiliar room covered in dim light around her. Her gaze shifted to the ceiling, and a familiar scent, soft and floral, teased her senses. Lavender. Julian's scent. But that couldn’t be possible—Julian was dead. That’s what she remembered, at least. 

A wave of memories surged as she pushed herself upright on the bed. Blood trickled down her thighs as she lost their child, the searing pain of acid eating her skin away, the maniacal laughter of her sister echoing in her mind. The past washed over her, drowning her in images she’d rather forget.

The sound of a door creaking open snapped her back to the present. Her breath caught as a figure emerged from the steam-filled bathroom, droplets of water tracing paths down his skin. Julian stood before her, a towel slung low around his waist, wisps of warm mist curling around him. Erica’s heart pounded in her chest—she couldn’t believe what she saw.

"Are you done staring?" Julian's voice was calm, almost teasing, as he met her wide-eyed gaze. He had always looked at her like this, with a tenderness she could never fully comprehend. But Erica had never returned that affection. She’d met his love with coldness, and resentment. His grandfather had paid her parents to marry her off, and from that moment, she had despised Julian. Yet, here he was, alive when he should have been dead.

Tears sprang to Erica’s eyes, her emotions an insane tangle of guilt and relief. She threw herself into his arms, sobs wracking her body as the memories of all the ways she had wronged him overwhelmed her. She had betrayed him, leaked the company’s secrets, and fallen for a trap that had cost his best friend’s life. She had hurt him in ways she could never atone for, yet Julian had never abandoned her.

Julian tensed as she collided with him, his body stiff with surprise. Her skin felt like ice against his, her tears falling into his chest. 

"I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry..." Erica's voice broke, each word dragging the weight of her sins with it. Julian stiffened, his mind racing—what could she be apologizing for? He couldn’t remember anything that would warrant such a reaction.

The shrill ring of a phone shattered the moment, pulling them apart. Julian turned to answer the call, and Erica watched him, her mind whirring as her situation sank in. This wasn’t a dream. She had been reborn, sent back two years before her death. 

She moved her legs shaky and caught sight of herself in a mirror. Her reflection stared back, young and unmarked by the horrors she had endured. Long brown hair fell in soft waves, framing a face that was smooth and beautiful, though now streaked with tears. She touched her cheeks, barely recognizing the woman she once was.

Julian hung up the phone, his gaze settling on Erica as he approached the dressing room. She was still crying. 

“What’s wrong? Who hurt you?” His voice was concerned, his brows drawing together as he studied her. He had always hated to see her cry. She looked up at him, struggling to find the words to explain, to make him understand the impossible truth.

But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she forced a smile, desperate to hide her turmoil.

“I just missed you,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Julian’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You missed me?” He couldn’t hide the disbelief in his voice. Erica had always kept her distance, recoiling from his touch and presence. But as much as he doubted her words, he couldn’t stop the warmth that blossomed in his chest.

“How could I have been so foolish?” Erica thought, her heart aching. She had been blind to the treasure she had in Julian. He had loved her, protected her, and she had repaid him with betrayal. But not this time. This time, she would cherish him, protect him as fiercely as he had once protected her.

“Yes,” she said softly, meeting his eyes. “It feels like ages since I last saw you.” The sincerity in her voice surprised even her, and she saw a flicker of something in Julian’s eyes—hope, perhaps?

“Hmmm…” Julian hummed, his expression thoughtful as he turned away to dress. Erica’s eyes followed him, drinking in the sight of him—his broad back, the ripple of muscles under his skin, the sharp lines of his jaw. How had she ever been so blind to his beauty and worth?

“My love,” Julian’s voice broke through her thoughts, a teasing note in his tone. “As much as I enjoy having your eyes on me, I have business to attend to.” He adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves, his movements precise and practiced.

“Do you have to go?” Erica’s voice was tinged with sadness. She wasn’t ready to let him out of her sight. But she knew she needed time, time to think, to plan. She needed to make things right.

Julian paused, the softness in her voice giving him pause. He bent down, kissing her forehead, his lips lingering against her skin. “I’ll be back before you know it,” he promised. “You can call me anytime.”

Erica nodded, unable to trust her voice. She watched as he turned away, her heart heavy with the knowledge that she had failed him.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Julian’s voice was sharp as he said, “Come in.” A maid stepped into the room, her expression neutral.

“Madam, your sister is waiting downstairs. She says there’s something urgent she needs to talk to you about.”

The mention of her sister’s name made Erica’s blood run cold. Hatred flared in her eyes, starkly contrasting the affection she had just shown Julian. He noticed the shift, his eyes narrowing in confusion. Erica and Ophelia had always been close—or so he thought.

“Let her know I’ll be there soon,” Erica said, calming her voice. She needed to keep her emotions in check until she faced Ophelia.

Julian kissed her forehead, his lips brushing against her skin. “You should freshen up, my love,” he murmured, before leaving. “If you need anything, I’m just a call away.”

As the door closed behind him, Erica exhaled slowly. She remembered the lengths Ophelia had gone to in her jealousy and how she had tried to tear Julian away from her. Julian’s death had been Ophelia’s doing, and it had been Ophelia who had killed her and her unborn child. But this time, Erica wouldn’t be caught off guard.

After washing up, she made her way downstairs, her steps steady, her resolve firm. Ophelia’s innocent face greeted her as she entered the living room, a mask of sweetness that hid the venom beneath. The sight of her sister made Erica’s stomach churn, the taste of bile rising in her throat.

“Ophelia,” Erica greeted her, her voice dripping with sarcasm that went unnoticed by her sister. “To what do I owe this visit?”