ZAYNE

I was halfway to the casting building entrance when my phone buzzed. The caller ID made me stop dead – Marcus, my grandfather's chief security officer. Marcus didn't call unless something was seriously wrong.

"Sir," his voice was tight with urgency. "We have a problem with the East Pier development."

"What kind of problem?" I kept walking, but slower now.

"Someone tried to sabotage the site last night. Cut the fuel lines on different equipment. If the night  watchman hadn't caught it during his rounds, the whole place could've gone up in flames."

My jaw clenched. The East Pier project was worth two hundred million dollars, and we were already behind schedule. "Accident or deliberate?"

"Deliberate. But that's not all – I've been tracking some rumors spreading around. Someone's been spreading stories that your company's projects cause health problems, environmental damage. They want you distracted, sir."

I stopped walking entirely. "Find them."

"Sir?"

"Find whoever's behind this. I don't care what it costs. If they want to play games with my business, I'll show them what a real game looks like."

"Understood. What about the East Pier security?"

"Triple it. And Marcus? When you find these people, I want to know everything about them. Their finances, their weaknesses, who they care about. If they want a fight, I'll give them one."

I ended the call, someone thought they could come after my empire and walk away clean. They were about to learn how wrong they were.

That's when I heard voices coming from around the corner – familiar voices that made me pause.

"Stay away from Zayne Kings, Marissa." Reid's voice was low, possessive.

Marissa laughed, and the sound got on my nerves. "Relax, baby. I like men I can control. Like you."

I frowned. Reid was engaged – the whole social circle had been buzzing about his upcoming wedding to some wealthy heiress. What the hell was he doing with Marissa?

"You courted my boring cousin for me," Marissa continued, her voice turning sharp. "Played the perfect fiancé while being mine in secret. Soon, when you marry Soraya, everything she inherited will be ours."

My blood went cold. This wasn't just cheating – this was fraud. Theft. And if I was hearing this right, they were targeting Soraya, Frank Levin's daughter. I'd known Frank – good man, built his empire from nothing.

"The wedding's only three months away," Reid warned. "We need to be careful."

"She'll never suspect," Marissa replied with chilling confidence. " And once we arrange that little accident after the wedding..."

I went completely still. They were planning murder.

"She's probably at home right now, taking those supplements you've been giving her," Marissa added with a laugh. "Keeping her weak and easy to control."

Jesus Christ. They were drugging her too.

A bright, friendly voice cut through their conversation: "Hey, you two!"

I stayed hidden, curiosity getting the best of me. I wanted to see the Soraya they'd been talking about.

The woman who appeared was nothing like what I'd expected. Beautiful, yes, but there was something sharp in her eyes, something calculating in the way she moved. This wasn't some helpless little rich girl.

"What are you doing here?" she asked them sweetly.

Reid looked like he'd swallowed his tongue. "Soraya! I thought you were resting today."

"I fired my medical team this morning," she said casually, and I saw both Reid and Marissa tense. "They were being disrespectful. Patricia actually told me you'd given them instructions to keep me in bed, Mari. Isn't that strange?"

Marissa's smile looked painted on. "I was just worried about your health after Uncle Frank-"

"How thoughtful," Soraya interrupted, but there was steel under the sweetness. "I feel better than I have in months. I'm even thinking about making some changes – updating my will, setting up trusts, maybe putting some protections in place in case of accidents."

The silence that followed was deafening. Reid and Marissa looked like they'd been struck by lightning.

I had to bite back a smile. This woman wasn't running scared – she was playing her own game, and doing it well.

After some more pleasantries that had, Soraya walked away, leaving her would-be killers looking rattled.

I waited a bit, then stepped out like I'd just arrived.

"Reid," I called out pleasantly. "Fancy seeing you here."

He jumped like I'd shot him. "Zayne! What are you doing here?"

"Business meeting. You?"

"Just... supporting Marissa at her audition."

Marissa had gone pale when she saw me. Good. Let them both sweat.

"Well, good luck," I said, clapping Reid on the shoulder just hard enough to make him wince. "May the best person win."

I walked toward the audition area, my mind spinning. Reid thought he could steal from and murder an innocent woman. He was about to learn that some games had deadlier players than he'd bargained for.

I was almost at the waiting area when someone slammed into me. Her purse went flying, and all the contents scattered across the floor.

"Shit, I'm sorry," I said automatically, then looked up.

It was her. Soraya. And up close, she was even more beautiful.

Our hands brushed as we both reached for her phone, and I felt something between us.

"Zayne Kings," I said, helping her to her feet.

"Soraya Levin."

"If you were a scene in a film," I found myself saying, "I'd watch it on repeat."

She laughed – not some fake, simpering giggle, but a real laugh that did things to my pulse. "Careful. I might make you the star instead."

"I'm hard to resist," I said, moving closer, "and you look like danger I would enjoy diving into."

Her smile was dangerous. "You have no idea."

We stood there for a moment, before I forced myself to step back.

"Break a leg in there," I said.

As I walked away, I pulled out my phone and dialed my assistant.

"James, I need you to find out everything about Soraya Levin. Background, finances, legal history, family connections. Be discreet."

"Understood. How soon do you need this?"

"Today."

--

Three hours later, James sent me the report. Soraya had left the audition and gone to Meridian, an upscale bar downtown. Without really thinking about it, I found myself driving there.

The place was dimly lit, sophisticated. I spotted her immediately- sitting at the bar, still in that blue dress, looking like she owned the place.

I ordered a scotch and took the seat next to her. "Well, this is a coincidence."

She turned, and her smile was knowing. "Is it?"

"You think I followed you here?"

"Didn't you?"

I laughed despite myself. "Maybe. Buy you a drink?"

"I'm already drinking." She held up her wine glass. "But you can buy the next one."

The conversation flowed easier than it should have. She was smart, funny, with opinions on everything from architecture to politics. Nothing like the naive victim Reid and Marissa thought they were playing.

"So what's your story, Zayne Kings?" she asked after her second glass of wine.

"Boring rich guy stuff. You?"

"Boring rich girl stuff." But her eyes were anything but boring.

When she excused herself to go to the washroom, I found myself following.

She was washing her hands when I walked in, locking the door behind me.

"This is the women's room," she said, but she didn't sound surprised.

"I noticed."

She turned to face me, leaning back against the marble counter. "Something you need?"

I moved closer, close enough to smell her perfume, to see the pulse jumping in her throat.

"You're not what they think you are," I said.

"Who's 'they'?"

"Reid. Marissa. Your loving family."

Her eyes flashed, but she didn't deny it. "And what do you think I am?"

"Dangerous."

She reached up and grabbed the front of my shirt, pulling me closer. "You have no idea."

When our lips met, it felt divine more than I could imagine. She tasted like wine, her mouth hot and demanding against mine. My hands found her waist, pulling her against me as she backed into the wall.

Her fingers tangled in my hair, her body arching against mine as I pressed her against the wall.

I lifted her onto the counter, stepping between her legs as she wrapped them around my waist. Her dress had ridden up, and my hands found bare skin that made her gasp into my mouth.

"We shouldn't be doing this," she breathed against my lips.

"Probably not."

But neither of us stopped. Her hands were working at my belt, mine sliding up her thighs, the air thick with heat and desire.

The smart thing would be to walk away. To keep this simple, professional.

But looking into her eyes, feeling the way she responded to my touch, I realized that was the last thing that would happen.

SORAYA

My legs were still a little unsteady when I stepped out of the bathroom.

Why?

ZAYNE HAPPENED.

His scent: dark, expensive, addictive. It still clung to my skin.

My lips tingled like he was still kissing me.

We almost had sex. He'd stopped.

And that said a lot, more than an actual make-out session ever could.

Men like him don't pull back unless they're thinking, calculating, wanting.

I pushed through the bar crowd, sucked in the cold night air and let it cool down the fog of heat he left behind.

I needed to focus.

Zayne was a distraction.

Though I feel he might be a good distraction for me in the nearest future.

A very attractive and dangerous one at that.Don't know how, but I'll figure that out later.

For now, I have enemies who were already ten steps ahead of me. I need to get my head back in the game.

My phone buzzed as I walked down the street toward the parking lot.

A message from Reid:

<b> Where are you?

Marissa said you disappeared after the audition.

We need to talk.

I laughed out loud.

People turned, but I didn't care.

He needed to talk because he was scared.

Good.

I reached the car, leaned against it and scanned the street.

Cars pulled up; people were leaving already.

Then, Reid's familiar SUV rolled into the parking lot.

He hadn't seen me yet.

I stayed in the shadows.

Marissa was in the passenger seat, legs crossed, hair perfectly curled, smiling at Reid in a way that looked sweet to strangers... But I knew better.

That smile was a leash.

Reid said something.

Marissa's smile tightened, and then he flinched.

Hmmm... Still the same dynamic.

Marissa is pulling the strings.

Reid tripping over himself just to please her.

I must commend Merissa for being too good at this manipulating stuff.

Their car idled for a moment.

Marissa adjusted her mirror.

Her eyes flicked toward where I stood.

And for the first time ever, I didn't look away.

I held her gaze, calm and unblinking.

Her smile faltered by a millimetre, but I saw it.

"Good!" I whispered to myself and smirked.

She nudged Reid. He looked too. Then, his face tightened.

Even better.

That single look told me everything;

They might not know what I remembered.

But they know for sure that something changed in me.

I stepped out of the shadows and walked toward the bar entrance, passing their SUV.

Not close enough to speak to them but close enough to make them feel unsettled.

I walked slowly, in such a way that I could still see them with the side of my eye.

A paper slipped from my purse and floated to the ground, completely intentionally.

Reid noticed immediately.

He always noticed things that made him paranoid.

Then Marissa stepped out of the car and picked it up.

Her eyes scanned the single, scribbled line:

"We should recheck my dad's will. What do you think?"

Her fingers stiffened.

Reid reached for it.

She snatched the paper back again.

"Do you think she's suspecting things already?" he whispered.

"I-"

She cleared her throat.

"I don't know, but we need to be more careful now."

"But what if-"

"Reid," she hissed, "we just need to be careful. I doubt she suspects a thing."

No, sweetheart.

I know everything.

I didn't go back, didn't acknowledge them and didn't even glance back.

The best wounds are the ones made without touching.

---

"Interesting technique."

His voice slid into my ear like silk dipped in sin.

I didn't jump. I should have.

But Zayne already had that effect on me, showing up like shadows shifting into shape.

He stood near the wall, hands in his pockets, eyes following the SUV like he already knew exactly who they were and why I cared.

"You still haven't gone home," I said softly.

He tilted his head.

"Then I would have missed out on this drama."

His gaze dipped to my lips, slowly, deliberately.

Heat rushed through me.

I hated that he could do that with just a look. I mean, it hasn't been up to 24 hours since we met. How can he have such an effect on me??

"Forgot to ask, did you enjoy the audition?" he asked.

"Did you enjoy the bathroom?" I shot back.

His smirk sharpened, just a twitch.

"Very much," he said. "Which is why I'm curious what you're doing now."

I stepped closer, just enough.

"Making small moves," I whispered.

"And those two?" He jerked his chin slightly toward Reid and Marissa's SUV.

"Bigger moves," I said.

"So you have enemies."

It wasn't a question; it didn't sound like one. Sounded more like an observation.

I met his eyes fully.

"Don't you?"

For a moment, something dark flickered behind his gaze, not danger, but recognition.

Then he chuckled, low and soft.

"You're going to get yourself into trouble," he murmured.

I smiled.

"I already did."

-

After Zayne walked away, slipping into the night like a warning, I headed toward my car.

As I pulled the door open, a thin folder slid off the seat onto the ground.

Dr Chen's handwriting clipped across the top.

My breath caught. I picked it up and flipped it open.

Sedative dosages.

Dates.

Adjustments.

Side effects.

Instructions.

And then, one line circled twice:

"Monitor closely. Cardiac response expected."

My father's medication.

My medication.

My throat tightened, anger rising like heat behind my eyes.

I am not grieving anymore, nor am I depressed.

I've been given an opportunity to rewrite all wrongs from my past.

Time to make a plan.

A quiet erasure.

I closed the folder with trembling fingers and whispered:

"Not this time."

I put it in the passenger seat, started the engine, and stared at my reflection in the rearview mirror.

I looked younger.

But the woman in my eyes?

She isn't just a younger Soraya.

She is a reborn one.

Sharper, smarter and more dangerous than they ever expected.

Then I smiled, slowly, cold, promising.

"Let the games begin."

SORAYA

The steering wheel was still warm from my hands even after I parked in front of my house.

My pulse hadn't slowed. Today was a lot for me.

 From the rebirth to the auditions to almost making out with Zayne...

Zayne...

His breath on my cheek...

His hand on my waist...

The way he paused, like kissing me would've been a mistake he'd make twice.

I swallowed, leaning back.

Get it together, Soraya. You're not here for romance. You're here for revenge.

Inside my living room, the silence wrapped around me like a blanket I didn't trust.

I picked up my phone, scrolled through and saw one name: Attorney Lawson.

Dad's oldest friend. His lawyer too. The only one I wasn't sure had been compromised.

My thumb hovered. A second of hesitation. Then two. Then I finally hit call.

 He picked up after the line rang twice.

"Soraya? Are you alright?"

My throat tightened. "No. But I will be."

A beat of silence carried the unspoken questions.

"I need someone who sees deeper than the surface," I said quietly. "Someone I can trust."

"You can trust me," he said firmly. "Tell me what's going on."

Not yet. Not until I had solid proof.

"Soon," I whispered. "I promise."

I ended the call before he could pull me into more emotion.

If I'm going to win this, I can't fight alone. But I have to choose my allies like I choose my weapons, very carefully.

 --

 It's been two weeks now; I still haven't heard any news from the audition, but there isn't a "no" message. That's something positive to hold onto.

Besides, I believed in myself and I did very well in the auditions, plus my memory is very correct.

 I didn't get the role in my past life; Marissa did in place of me. This time, I'm winning the audition for sure.

I stepped out onto my balcony for some air; a familiar black car slowed in front of my gate.

My heart kicked.

Zayne.

He wasn't coming to me, no. He didn't even know I lived here.

But as he spoke to someone through the open window, his voice carried up the quiet street.

"I don't tolerate incompetence," he said, tone sharp and controlled. "Fix it. Tonight!"

The command in his voice vibrated through me.

His shoulders were relaxed but ready, like a man used to handling problems without raising his voice.

When he ended the call, he glanced up the street by chance.

His eyes met mine across the distance.

A small, knowing smile tugged at his lips.

He didn't call me over.

He didn't speak.

He just looked... like he already knew I was on the same path he was.

And then he drove off.

He doesn't just talk power... He moves like someone who owns it.

I hated how much I noticed that.

The next morning, I left the house earlier than usual and headed toward Dad's real estate firm building.

The sky was still pale, barely awake. Perfect.

They weren't expecting me.

The security guards bowed slightly when they saw me. They were polite... but cautious. Ever since Dad died, everyone in this building moved like they were walking on cracked glass.

I didn't bother heading to my usual office. I took the long hallway instead, the one wrapped in thick glass that reflected my silhouette back at me. I looked calm. Unbothered.

But inside?

Every step felt like loading a gun.

Just as I approached the west wing, I heard it: whispers. Sharp, hurried, and annoyingly familiar.

I slowed down.

The door was slightly open. Enough for sound to leak out.

Marissa's voice cut through first. Cold. Irritated.

"She's getting restless," she muttered. "We need her distracted."

Restless? Of course she would be talking about me.

I almost laughed out loud. The audacity.

If only she knew how deeply I'd been studying her.

Her patterns, her pride, her obsession with winning.

Reid's voice followed, lower than hers, almost strained. "Just... don't underestimate her."

I felt my lips curve.

Interesting. So he was starting to feel it. The shift. The fact that I wasn't the quiet, grieving girl they thought they could manoeuvre around anymore.

Marissa scoffed, pacing. "She's emotional. That's her weakness."

I blinked slowly.

Emotion wasn't my weakness.

It was my weapon.

I leaned closer, careful not to make a sound. My heart wasn't beating fast; it was steady. Steady in a way that told me I was exactly where I needed to be.

They kept talking, throwing out little details. Minor plans, minor lies, and small manipulations – they wanted to slip into place over the next week.

Pathetic.

They thought they were plotting.

They were just exposing themselves.

Good, I thought. Keep underestimating me, both of you. Let's see how far that gets you.

I stepped back, heels silent against the floor, and walked away before they sensed anything.

By the time I reached the elevator, my pulse had finally picked up from the thrill of being several steps ahead of them.

---

 I had different meetings.

All discussing with the shareholders and higher executives in the firm how the ownership of the firm would be transferred to me.

Marissa's facial expressions were a true sight to behold.

Back in my car, I didn't even turn on the engine. I just locked the doors, slid into the seat properly, and pulled out Dad's old leather notebook, the one he never went anywhere without.

Found it in his drawer. Lucky for me, no one saw it while clearing my dad's stuff from his office.

The moment it touched my palms, the world outside went quiet.

This is where the real war started.

I flipped to a fresh page and tapped my pen against the paper, steady and rhythmic, like a heartbeat syncing with my thoughts.

I replayed everything from the hallway earlier.

Marissa's impatience.

Reid's uncertainty.

The cracks are forming between them.

Every detail mattered.

My mind mapped out the battlefield:

Pressure points - Marissa's ego, Reid's lack of confidence, their need for control.

Weaknesses - their overconfidence, lack of subtlety, and desire to push me out quickly.

Predictable habits - they moved fast when scared, sloppy when overconfident.

Possible allies - Zayne... maybe. If I could trust him. Attorney Lawson.

Possible traps - anything involving my emotions, my routines, or my father's legacy.

Step one: make them stumble.

Step two: gather proof.

Step three... strike.

A targeted hit, clean and precise.

Something they wouldn't recover from.

I drew a small box around one phrase on the page:

"Control the narrative."

If they thought they could spin stories behind closed doors, I would open every door and make the truth echo.

I shut the notebook with a soft click and leaned back, inhaling deeply.

For a moment, my reflection in the car window held my gaze.

My eyes looked... different. Sharper. Focused.

Alive in a way I hadn't seen since Dad smiled at me the last time.

"I can't fight this alone," I whispered into the quiet car. "But I refuse to lose."

The old Soraya died the day Marissa pushed me down the stairs.

This one?

This one is ready to burn their entire plan to the ground and rebuild everything they tried to take.