Morning light streamed through the windows of the Salazar dining room, casting a deceptively peaceful glow over the breakfast table. I sat across from Leland, my hands cradling a teacup to hide their trembling. Three days until the fire. Three days until I would die again if I didn't escape.

"I've been thinking," I said, forcing my voice into a gentle, wistful tone that felt foreign on my tongue. "With the baby coming soon, I'd like to spend these final weeks with Mother at the Montgomery estate."

Leland looked up from his newspaper, surprise flickering across his features before settling into that practiced smile I now recognized as utterly false.

"Whatever for?" he asked, reaching for his coffee. "You'll be due any day now. The doctors are all arranged here."

I placed my hand protectively over my swollen belly, feeling Rome shift beneath my palm. "I know, but..." I let my voice tremble slightly, injecting just enough emotion to seem genuine. "I remember how Mother comforted me when I was young, how she held me when I was afraid. I want that same comfort now, before our child arrives."

I watched Leland's expression carefully, noting how his eyes darted briefly to the window—calculating, always calculating.

"It would only be for a week," I continued, leaning forward with a conspiratorial smile. "Just until I feel ready to face the delivery. You understand, don't you? This is my first child."

Something shifted in Leland's posture—a subtle relaxation. He believed me. He thought I was merely a sentimental, frightened pregnant woman seeking maternal comfort.

"Of course, my dear," he said magnanimously, reaching across to pat my hand. "Family bonds are important. I'll arrange for the most comfortable carriage immediately."

"Thank you," I whispered, lowering my eyes to hide the cold calculation behind them.

As Leland stood to summon the steward, I noticed his fingers automatically adjusting his cufflinks—once, twice, three times. The nervous tell I'd recognized in my previous life. He was pleased I was leaving. My absence would make it easier for him to finalize his murderous preparations without my presence complicating matters.

---

The journey to the Montgomery estate passed in tense silence. I stared out the window, watching the familiar landscape unfold, knowing this might be my last chance to see it. The carriage wheels crunched on the gravel driveway as we approached the imposing stone facade of my childhood home.

"Welcome home, Lady Riley," the butler said, his familiar face a balm to my frayed nerves.

"Please inform my mother I've arrived," I said, not bothering to remove my cloak. "And I wish to see her immediately. Alone."

Something in my tone must have conveyed urgency, for he nodded without question and led me directly to Mother's private chambers.

"Leave us," I instructed the maid who attempted to follow with refreshments. "No one is to enter until I say so."

Mother looked up from her correspondence, surprise evident in her elegant features. "Riley? What's wrong?"

I closed the door firmly behind me, then turned to face her. The words caught in my throat as tears welled in my eyes.

"Mother," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I need you to believe something impossible."

And then it all poured out—the fire, the smoke, the agony of labor as flames consumed me. Rome dying in my womb. Leland's betrayal with Bonnie. How I had watched it all as a spirit before being granted this second chance.

"I know how it sounds," I said, wiping tears that wouldn't stop falling. "But I remember everything—every detail of how they planned it, what they said, how it would happen."

Mother's face had drained of color, her hands trembling as she reached for me. "Riley..."

"I heard Leland telling Marcus exactly where to place the flammable materials. I saw Bonnie in the garden with him, talking about their son becoming the Salazar heir." My voice grew stronger with each word. "They're going to kill me and my child, Mother. Just like they did before."

For a long moment, Mother simply stared at me, her eyes searching mine for any sign of delusion or deception. Then, with a decisive movement, she rose and crossed to her writing desk.

"I believe you," she said firmly, pulling out paper and ink. "Every word."

She began to write in quick, precise strokes—a coded message to her sister, the Queen.

"What do we do?" I asked, watching her hand move across the page.

Mother's eyes met mine, steel replacing shock. "We fight back, darling. And we make sure they pay for what they've done."

The morning after my desperate confession, Mother's chambers became our war room. She sat at her writing desk, pen in hand, composing another encrypted message to her sister, the Queen. Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a golden glow over her determined face.

"The Queen believes we need irrefutable proof," Mother said, her pen scratching across the paper. "Something that will justify royal intervention and prevent Leland from escaping through his aristocratic connections."

I paced the room, my swollen belly making each step uncomfortable. "We have my testimony."

"Your word alone won't be enough." Mother looked up, her eyes meeting mine. "Not against a duke."

The truth of her words settled like ice in my stomach. In this world of privilege and power, my voice—even with the Montgomery name behind it—might not be enough to condemn a Salazar.

"What about Bonnie?" I asked, remembering the sight of my cousin in Leland's arms. "If we could prove their affair..."

"Bonnie is still technically under Montgomery protection," Mother said, her voice tight with controlled anger. "Though she's forfeited any right to it."

I stopped pacing, a dangerous idea forming. "I could go back."

Mother's pen stilled. "What?"

"I could return to the Salazar estate as planned." My heart raced as I outlined my idea. "Leland believes I'm merely a sentimental pregnant woman seeking comfort. If I return, he'll think everything is proceeding normally."

"That's too risky." Mother's voice was sharp with protective instinct.

"I'll be safe," I assured her, placing a hand over my belly. "You could follow with Father's soldiers, positioned secretly around the estate."

Mother studied me for a long moment before nodding slowly. "I'll contact the Queen immediately. We'll need royal observers—court officials with legal authority to document crimes."

"And we need to track Bonnie's movements," I added. "Gather evidence of their affair. We must expose both conspirators completely."

---

Three days later, I stood at the entrance of the Salazar estate, forcing myself to breathe steadily as the carriage pulled away. Mother and her contingent were already in position, hidden in the surrounding forest. The royal observers would arrive separately, disguised as local officials conducting routine business.

Leland emerged from the mansion, his face a perfect mask of concern as he helped me down from the carriage.

"Welcome home, my love," he said, his voice warm honey. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better," I lied, allowing him to guide me inside. "Just tired from the journey."

His hand rested possessively on my lower back as he led me through the grand entrance hall. Every touch made my skin crawl, but I forced myself to lean into him, to play the part of the adoring wife.

"The baby?" he asked, his eyes dropping to my swollen belly.

"Active," I replied, smiling up at him. "Rome is eager to meet his father."

Something flickered in Leland's eyes—perhaps disappointment that I'd named the child already, robbing him of that control. But it vanished so quickly I might have imagined it.

---

That night, lying beside Leland in our bed, I stared into the darkness, listening to his even breathing. Sleep eluded me entirely. Every shadow seemed to dance with flames, every creak of the old mansion sounded like the crackling of burning wood.

I pressed both hands against my belly, feeling Rome shift beneath my palms.

"I won't let it happen again," I whispered so softly that even I could barely hear it. "I promise you, Rome. You'll live this time. We both will."

The memories crashed over me—smoke filling my lungs, flames licking at the doorframe, the agony of labor as death closed in. I could almost feel the heat again, almost hear my own screams echoing in this very room.

A tremor ran through me, and I bit my lip to keep from crying out.

Leland stirred beside me, his hand reaching out to touch my shoulder. "Are you awake?" he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

I forced myself to relax, to turn toward him with a smile he couldn't see in the darkness. "Just the baby kicking," I lied, placing his hand over the spot where Rome had been moving.

"He's strong," Leland observed, his fingers splaying across my belly.

"Yes," I agreed, fighting the urge to recoil from his touch. "He'll be a fighter."

Leland's hand moved up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing across my lower lip. "Three more days," he whispered, his voice suddenly intense. "Three more days until everything changes."

I knew exactly what he meant, and it took everything in me not to flinch away from his touch, not to scream or run or fight. Instead, I leaned into his caress, responding with false affection while my mind raced with calculations.

Three more days until he planned to kill me and my child.

Three more days until we would destroy him instead.