On a stormy night, deep inside an abandoned prison, I lay there helpless, chains biting into my wrists and ankles. My body was a canvas of tiny needle scars, my skin blistered and raw. A blood-soaked white cloth covered my eyes, my hair hung in tangled ropes, and my lips had lost every trace of life's warmth.

I was in pain, but years of starvation and blood loss had left me too weak to put up a fight. Five years. Was this really how it ended?

"Luciana, how does it feel to lose your sight?" The voice was sweet as honey, yet edged with malice. "Jonathan Perez used to say your eyes were more beautiful than mine. Too bad your corneas are mine now."

Elianna, my twin sister, stepped closer in a flowing ivory silk gown, her voice polished with false innocence. Her immaculate appearance made my ruined state feel even more grotesque.

The familiarity of her voice sent a chill straight through me. "Elianna, have you lost your mind? I'm your sister!"

I turned my head toward her, though I couldn't see. We were born minutes apart. I never would've suspected her.

"No. I don't have a sister like you. I let those traffickers take you when you were three because you were never supposed to come back and take the place I had in this family."

"But it's all about to end now." Elianna unfastened my chains and flung me to the floor like garbage. Then she wrapped a chain around her own neck, digging in with fierce resolve.

I'd been imprisoned too long, too weak to resist. Elianna played the innocent as I lay beneath her, manufactured tears gathering in her eyes.

"Luciana, please don't take my corneas. I never meant to accept yours. I'm so sorry..."

"Don't come closer, Mom, Dad, brothers... Elianna is so scared..." She guided my hand toward her eyes, mere inches away, when the cell door burst open with a bang.

"Luciana, have you lost your mind?" My parents and five brothers rushed in, yanking Elianna away to cradle her as if she were made of glass. They surrounded her, fussing over the marks on her neck—then turned on me with fury and disgust.

The slap landed before I could react. Isaac, our father, struck me hard across the face, sending pain through every nerve. Blood seeped beneath the bandage over my eyes, staining the white cloth red.

Isaac's voice shook with rage. "Luciana, I paid the prison doctor, falsified your medical records, and authorized the surgeon who took your corneas for Elianna. By then you were buried under a conviction, isolated in an off-books infirmary, and no one was going to listen to you. Elianna is a rising star, and her eyes were damaged while saving your brother. What have you ever done for this family?"

"A parasite like you should be honored that your corneas could restore Elianna's sight!"

Isaac's words cut through me like a knife, yet they also gave me a sickening clarity. Hadn't I done plenty for my brothers? I spent years trying to earn my place, trying to thaw hearts that always ran cold.

For Mason, the financial titan, I studied finance like crazy, racking up credentials in two months, losing sleep on his projects. But when he made it big, he used the profits to shower Elianna with lavish gifts while I got nothing — not even a thank-you.

For my second brother, Rue, a gifted doctor, I served as his human guinea pig, enduring his endless experiments without complaint. When a car accident left him unable to walk, I used every therapy I knew to help with his rehabilitation.

For Adriel, the pop idol, I wrote his songs and choreographed his dances, never getting any credit, always living in his shadow.

Then there was Grey, my reckless youngest brother—I compromised my future by taking the blame for his academic misconduct and getting myself expelled from university.

Four years of constant giving, and never a shred of warmth in return. Isaac's offer was just one more betrayal. "Luciana, here's a share transfer agreement. Sign it, and I'll have the family legal team reopen your case and push for your release."

I let out a bitter laugh. After covering for them and ending up in prison, now they were dangling freedom in front of me like another tool of control. I didn't believe his hollow promises anymore.

Then Elianna pressed a concealed remote in her palm. A rigged igniter sparked beneath the doorway, catching the gasoline she had poured through the corridor. Flames raced across the floor.

"Fire! Protect Elianna..."

My family scrambled out, shielding Elianna with their bodies — leaving me behind yet again, just like they always did when danger hit.

As the fire closed in, I somehow found the strength to crawl, but Elianna hadn't bothered to unlock the chains around my ankles. She'd meant for me to die here.

As the flames closed in, I rasped out a vow with my final breath: "Elianna, Isaac... if there's another life, I will get my revenge."

My body was swallowed by the flames, reduced to ash. Even in death, my spirit stayed behind, tied to the charred wreckage by rage and agony.

In the aftermath of the fire, not a single family member came looking for me. But I watched as Jonathan — the estranged husband I had rejected — spent seven days sifting through the ashes, gathering what was left of me.

On the eighth day, dressed in beggar's rags, he carefully scooped up my ashes next to the chains that had held me captive.

Once so proud and unyielding, Jonathan now looked utterly shattered. His voice was a gentle whisper as he cradled what was left of me: "Don't be afraid, Luciana. I'm here to take you home."

Three months later, the Kelly family suffered an unimaginable financial collapse. Elianna disappeared—only to be found later with shattered limbs and her sight permanently destroyed, a brutal mirror of what she had done to me.

Each of my brothers soon met with mysterious deaths, and the Kellys vanished from the social scene.

One quiet afternoon, as usual, I was at Jonathan's side. He sent all the staff away, sat in the garden holding my ashes, and let the sun warm us both.

He pressed a tender kiss to the urn, whispering, "My beloved Luciana, this time, you're taking me home..."

Fire swallowed the estate, devouring everything in its path — even as I screamed, helpless, "Jonathan, don't!"

I snapped my eyes open, dragging in a deep, shaky breath. The room was familiar—a massive plush red bed, surrounded by heavy drapes of black and gray that seemed to close in on me. The air-conditioning hummed, and the chill raised goose bumps along my arms.

This place… I knew it all too well. The Perez estate!

Wait—I could see? My corneas were back!

I pinched my cheek to make sure I wasn't dreaming. Pain answered me. I was alive. I’d been thrown back six years, to the exact day I was forced into Elianna’s place in an arranged marriage to Jonathan Perez, the scarred, disabled eldest son of the Perez family.

Rumor had it Jonathan had a violent streak. Two years ago, he survived a mysterious plane crash that left him even more unhinged and terrifying, with doctors claiming he wouldn’t live past twenty-nine. Whoever married him was doomed to a lonely life.

Several marriage negotiations had already collapsed after Jonathan's crash and the ugly rumors that followed. The Perezes and Kellys had once planned a dynastic match between Jonathan and Elianna as part of a broader corporate alliance. When Elianna's health suddenly became the family's excuse to pull her out, the Kellys sent me instead—her fraternal twin, close enough in appearance to make the substitution plausible from a distance.

Just as I was piecing it all together, I caught the familiar squeak of wheelchair wheels rolling down the hallway. The door swung open without warning.

I turned to find Jonathan in his wheelchair, head slightly bowed. His hair was a mess, shadowing those dark, narrow eyes. His skin looked ghostly pale under the cold light, giving him an almost unnatural aura. Scars ran from the corners of his eyes to his sharp jawline, cutting across features that must once have been striking and making him look even more forbidding.

His long, thin fingers tapped against the armrest, the blue veins visible under his skin. Jonathan seemed to notice the unexpected guest on his bed, his brows knitting together as he angrily knocked an antique vase off the nightstand. It shattered. "Get out!" he roared.

In my past life, this exact moment had scared me half to death. I tripped on my way out, smacked my head, and nearly died. New York tabloids had turned Jonathan into a monster after the crash, calling him unstable, dangerous, and impossible to live with.

Though I was nominally his wife, the rumors and fear drove a wedge between us. Worse, my family coerced me into stealing confidential merger documents and forging Jonathan's signature on a contract that cost Perez Industries billions.

But Jonathan never blamed me. He showered me with jewels and elegant dresses, trying to make me smile—even though I was obsessed with my first love, Pius Blake, and ignored Jonathan’s affections entirely. I eventually pushed him away, demanded a divorce, and drove him out of the country.

After the divorce, my own family framed me for a crime. Five years in prison, and that’s where I met my end.

Thinking about it now, a sharp pang hit my chest. In my previous life, Jonathan was the only one who truly cared for me, even willing to die by my side. Now, seeing him alone, suffering, shut out by everyone—I made up my mind. This time, he wouldn’t go through it alone.

"Jonathan," I called softly, pushing myself off the bed. "Tonight’s our wedding night. Are you really asking me to leave?" I added with a gentle tease. "Too bad none of the previous brides—or your father—ever figured this out… you… can’t… perform."

In my past life, Jonathan hadn’t just lost his mobility and his looks in that crash—he’d lost other vital functions too. It wasn’t until our second year of marriage that he was healed.

Jonathan’s face went from pale to dark. "You’re not Elianna! Who are you?"

His fingers dug into the armrest, his eyes sharp and piercing, full of suspicion. This woman standing in front of him wasn’t afraid?

I walked barefoot to the door, wearing the red silk nightgown the Perez family had laid out—elegant, alluring. My dark eyes held steady despite the blemishes on my face. Leaning down, I placed my hands on the armrests of his wheelchair. "I’m Luciana Crawford. Crawford is the name of the family who raised me; Elianna Kelly is my biological twin. I'm the bride the Kellys sent you."

"The party outside isn’t over yet. If you really want me gone, I’ll walk out there and tell everyone the rumors are true—that Jonathan Perez can't satisfy a wife."

A vein pulsed in his forehead. His scarred face tightened into a mocking smile. "You’re threatening me?"

Instead of answering, I slid into his lap, wrapping my arms around his shoulder. "No, it’s an incentive, Mr. Perez."

Jonathan went completely rigid.

Threat flickered in his eyes as he gripped my waist hard, his voice like ice. "Get off. I don’t need you." He shoved me, and I landed on the carpet. It didn’t hurt, but it reminded me—this wasn’t the Jonathan who had loved me in another lifetime.

This was our first meeting. To him, I was a stranger. I couldn’t expect him to feel anything for me yet. But in my past life, he had cradled my ashes, avenged my death, loved me with a ferocity I never deserved.

With that thought, there was no way I could leave him to struggle alone. "But what if your doctors are wrong about how much function you've lost?" I offered, keeping my voice steady as I moved closer to examine his leg.

I pressed along the nerve pathway below his knee, then applied a sharp sensory stimulus at the ankle—quick, controlled, and just enough to test whether the signal was getting through.

A gun suddenly pressed against my temple. "Miss Crawford, what exactly did you do to Mr. Perez?"

Ahmir Oliver—Jonathan’s bodyguard—had appeared, his face hard as stone. The cold barrel dug into my skin. One slight twitch of his finger and I’d be in worse shape than the other brides.

But Jonathan’s expression shifted. His breathing turned uneven. "Wait," he commanded, his voice cracking through Ahmir’s concentration.

Ahmir glanced at Jonathan’s form in the wheelchair, then at me, his face caught somewhere between confusion and shock.

He lowered the gun, stepping back to take his place behind Jonathan.

"Mr. Perez, do you believe me now?" I asked, a faint smile on my lips, even though my forehead was slick with cold sweat. My heart was racing. I wasn’t about to die so soon after getting a second chance.

"Jonathan, I can do more than manage the pain. I think I can help you regain function in your legs, but I need time, proper equipment, and a consistent rehabilitation plan."

"I was forced into this marriage. The Kellys sent me in Elianna’s place, and they couldn’t care less if I live or die. I have nowhere else to go. I just need some shelter."

"Once I’ve saved up enough to live on my own, I’ll leave and won’t bother you. So—my fee for healing you is staying here until then."

In my past life, I had healed my second brother’s legs. And when I provoked Jonathan by pinching his leg earlier, I confirmed his muscles hadn’t atrophied. His condition was treatable.

Sensing a chance, I looked up at him, my eyes filled with determination. Despite everything I’d been through, I refused to let a single tear fall.

Something about me seemed to resonate with him—stirring a recognition he couldn’t place. He looked away, his jaw tightening. Then he pulled his leg back from my touch, gave me one unreadable look, and wheeled away. "Do as you wish."

Ahmir stood there, stunned. Jonathan Perez had actually agreed to let the substitute bride stay?

After Jonathan left, I blinked away the phantom tears, dropping the whole fragile act I'd put on for his benefit. My hazel eyes—usually warm, inviting—now mirrored a steely chill.

I knew damn well Jonathan was only keeping me around because he thought I had some use. The second I didn't, I'd be tossed aside like yesterday's trash—just another inconvenience with nowhere to go.

In my past life, I'd been terrified of him. I ran not long after we got married. It took Jonathan almost a year to approach me cautiously. I never figured out when he fell for me, but it was deep—unforgettable.

This time around, I was dead set on being the one to reach out, to protect him, to love him.

I headed into the bathroom to freshen up, but the mirror showed a face riddled with reddish-brown acne, deep shadows under my eyes, and a pallid, almost ghostly complexion—even with my delicate features.

“Ugh…” I muttered, barely holding it together. How the hell did I face Jonathan looking like this? No wonder he let me go. Who'd want to hold a ghastly apparition like me?

Staring at my reflection, the memories came flooding back. Before I was forced into marriage, I'd run myself ragged putting together a financial proposal for my brother Mason—five straight nights with zero sleep. The acne? That was from testing a treatment for my brother Rue, digging through medical texts until my face was ruined.

I clenched my fists, knuckles cracking. In my last life, I'd craved family love, desperately seeking the Kelly family's approval—only to end up cremated, my ashes left unclaimed by anyone. I'd been so naive!

This time, I wouldn't make the same mistakes. No more being their damn workhorse!

I was exhausted and didn't sleep well. The sun was already high by the time I finally caught up on rest. Reaching for my phone—which had died overnight—I found a pile of missed messages and calls once it powered on.

Sure enough, a familiar number popped up. Adriel Kelly was calling.

"Why did you deliberately disappear?" he demanded the second I answered, irritation dripping from his voice.

As a top-tier pop star, his voice was usually warm and alluring, but now it came out sharp and frustrated: "Luciana, when will you learn to be as considerate as Elianna?"

His words almost made me laugh out loud. "Oh, my husband was quite insistent last night. I just couldn't get up," I replied, my tone flat, my hazel eyes narrowing with indifference.

Adriel was taken aback—surprised I seemed to actually accept Jonathan, who he believed to be crippled, and even more shocked by my brazenness.

But that wasn't his main concern. His voice grew more agitated. "Luciana, do you have any idea how inconsiderate you are, bringing this up again?"

The whole family resented me for marrying in Elianna's place, but it was the only way to protect her. They had no other choice. And even though my sarcasm made them uncomfortable, Adriel's conscience twinged a little.

I curled my lips into a cold smile. "Laughable, really. I'm the one who got married—not you. I didn't ask you to share a bed with him, so why all the drama?"

I vividly remembered the moment they forced this on me. My father had clutched my hand with his aged fingers, his voice pleading. "Luciana, your sister has a heart condition. She can't handle stress. I'm begging you—please marry into the Perez family for her sake."

My mother had gently stroked my hair, offering a warmth I hadn't felt in years. "Luciana, I know it's unfair, but Elianna can't handle the stress of this marriage. You're stronger than she is. Please do this for the family."

Their pleas left me cold. I hadn't felt my mother's love since I got lost as a child. Just because I was the healthy one, I was supposed to be the sacrificial lamb?

Her five brothers stood silent, their hopeful gazes boring into me, waiting for me to step into Elianna's place and marry a disfigured, disabled man.

Finally, my grandmother threatened to tell the entire family I had abandoned my sick sister unless I put on the wedding dress...

Now they had the nerve to act disgusted?

Adriel's tone softened after my sharp retort. "Still, even if you were wronged by replacing Elianna, you shouldn't have taken the USB with the financial proposal for Mason. Elianna spent five nights working on it. Taking it without asking is stealing! Luciana, you've let everyone down. What exactly did you learn while you were away?"

His voice trembled with anger and disappointment.

I listened calmly, having expected this confrontation. In my past life, the accusation of "stealing the USB" spread like wildfire. Even though my sister Elianna pleaded with me privately, I caved and accepted the blame. But now... why should I let them off the hook?

I laughed mockingly. "Adriel, you're such a fool!" I said, then hung up.

When my phone rang again, I blocked his number. Next, I quickly blocked my parents, grandmother, brothers, and Elianna's contacts.

Adriel stood in disbelief, listening to the busy tone. For the first time, he felt like Luciana had slipped right through his fingers. When he tried calling back and realized he was blocked, pure frustration took over his face.

Jonathan's wheelchair sat at the doorway just as I finished blocking my family's numbers. His fingers tapped idly on the armrest, his deep eyes unreadable.

"Good morning, Mr. Perez," I chirped, my eyes curving into warm crescents, my smile bright and inviting. Inside, I was praying like crazy: You didn't hear anything, you didn't hear anything!

But luck was never on my side. Jonathan's low, icy voice cut through the silence, his tone a mix of teasing and seduction, his eyes shadowed with amusement: "Was I too persistent last night?"

His words sent a shockwave through me—my toes curling in embarrassment under the covers.

"Misunderstand... it's a misunderstanding!" I stammered. I hadn't meant to run my mouth like that. I swear, it was on purpose!

I had no real intention of divorcing Jonathan. If anything, I planned to have him wrapped around my finger eventually. But having him overhear me? Mortifying.

Jonathan's eyes glinted as they swept over me, a cold smile playing on his lips. "Kept you from even getting up?" he added, and those words jolted me upright from my prone position.

I scrambled out of bed, bare feet hitting the cold floor as I rushed to his side. Squatting in front of him, I gazed up with wide, sincere eyes, my nose slightly red—looking like a lost little rabbit. I tugged lightly at his pant leg, my voice soft and earnest: "Jonathan, I'll be good. Please don't send me away."

As my fingers gently clasped the fabric, the warmth seemed to seep through, brushing against his skin...

Apart from last night, no woman had ever been this close to him.

Jonathan's eyes darkened. He pressed a finger to my forehead, pushing me back slightly. His tone was impatient, but there was a stiffness that betrayed him: "Just focus on helping me recover. Don't entertain... other ideas."

The last two words came out with unexpected awkwardness.

In the shadows, Ahmir Oliver—Jonathan's bodyguard—was nearly slack-jawed with disbelief: Was Jonathan actually letting a woman touch him willingly?