Candice curled into a ball in the corner of the hospital bed, the darkness of the room a thin, fragile blanket of security.

The image of Julius at a party, laughing with his friends as he called her a "beautiful, but necessary, acquisition," flashed behind her eyelids. The memory was so vivid it made her head throb.

She squeezed her eyes shut, whispering the current date to herself over and over. A mantra to keep the ghosts at bay. It hasn't happened. You can stop it.

Her breathing slowly evened out. The wild panic began to recede, replaced by a cold, clear purpose.

A series of sharp knocks echoed from the door.

"Miss Luna? It's your nurse. I need to check your vitals."

"Go away," Candice said, her voice flat and devoid of emotion. "I don't want to see anyone."

A sigh from the other side of the door. "Miss Luna, avoiding everyone won't solve your problems with the Hansen family. The engagement is still-"

"I said, go away!"

The word "engagement" was like a physical blow. Candice grabbed a pillow and pressed it over her ears, trying to block out the world, to block out his name.

The nurse's footsteps retreated, but they were replaced by another sound. A slower, more deliberate tread. The sound of expensive leather shoes on linoleum. The footsteps stopped directly outside her door, followed by a voice she would never forget-smooth, calculated, and dripping with false concern.

"Nurse, if you don't mind," the voice said, low and penetrating even through the wood. "I'm Mr. Hansen's legal counsel. I need a word with Miss Luna."

It was Arthur Vance. The voice that had, in her other life, calmly read the terms of her family's destruction.

Candice scrambled back, pressing herself deeper into the corner of the bed. It felt like a wolf was sniffing at the door of her cage.

The lawyer knocked, his knuckles rapping twice against the wood. "Miss Luna? My name is Arthur Vance. I'm here on behalf of Mr. Hansen to go over some details of the merger."

Her breath hitched. The merger. The beginning of the end. She stared at the door, her heart pounding a frantic, painful rhythm against her ribs.

When she didn't answer, the doorknob began to turn.

A soft click echoed in the silent room.

The sound was an alarm bell. In a single, desperate motion, Candice threw herself off the bed. Her bare feet hit the cold floor as she launched herself at the door, slamming her full weight against it just as he began to push it open.

The door shuddered but held.

"Miss Luna," Vance's voice was laced with irritation now. "This childish behavior is unproductive. The Hansen family's patience is not unlimited."

Her hands were trembling, but she pressed them flat against the cool wood of the door, her shoulder aching in protest. "Get. Out," she snarled through gritted teeth.

A dry, humorless chuckle from the hallway. "As you wish. Mr. Hansen will be here tomorrow to speak with you himself. Perhaps you'll be more reasonable with him."

His footsteps receded down the hall.

Candice slid down the door, her legs giving out, and landed in a heap on the floor. She gasped for air, cold sweat plastering her thin hospital gown to her skin.

Hiding wasn't enough. As long as that engagement existed, they would never leave her alone. They would hunt her, corner her, and devour her family's legacy, just like they did before.

She staggered to her feet and went to the window, pulling the edges of the blackout curtains together until not a single sliver of light could penetrate the room.

In the suffocating darkness, she thought of her father. She remembered his warmth, the way he always believed in her, even when she didn't believe in herself. A surge of strength, born of love and grief, flooded her veins.

She had to get out of here. She had to get to him.

She found her phone on the nightstand and dialed the number for her father's head of household, the family butler. Her voice shook, but her words were firm.

"I'm discharging myself. I'm coming home. Now."

The butler, shocked, tried to reason with her, but Candice cut him off. "If a car is not here in thirty minutes, I will walk out of this hospital and take a cab. Do you understand?"

She hung up before he could argue further.

In the dim light of her phone screen, she saw her reflection in the darkened window. A pale, haunted face with eyes that burned with a terrifying intensity.

She started throwing her few belongings into a small bag, her movements frantic. This room felt like a tomb, and she had to escape.

As she was about to leave, a commotion erupted in the hallway. Nurses were scurrying, their voices hushed but urgent.

"...Mr. Hansen is awake... in the room at the end of the hall... he's in a terrible mood..."

The bag slipped from Candice's numb fingers, hitting the floor with a soft thud.

Julius.

He was here. On this floor. Just a few doors away.

The devil was awake. And he was close.

Julius Hansen shot up in bed, his chest heaving as if he'd just surfaced from a deep, dark ocean.

Cold sweat beaded on his forehead. The last thing he remembered was the suffocating emptiness of his penthouse, the scent of Candice Luna's perfume still clinging to the furniture like a disease. He remembered the weight of the wedding ring on his finger, a shackle binding him to a woman who had systematically destroyed his life to possess him.

He remembered Amina's face, streaked with tears, as she walked away from him for the last time.

"You chose this, Julius," she had said. "You chose her empire over our love."

The memory was a physical pain, a phantom limb that ached with a loss so profound it had hollowed him out.

He gripped the edge of the mattress, his knuckles white. The hatred he felt for Candice Luna was a living thing, a fire in his blood.

A private nurse rushed into the room, her eyes wide with alarm. "Mr. Hansen, you need to lie back down. You've been in an accident."

He batted her hand away, his gaze sweeping the room, sharp and assessing. "Where am I? What's the date?" His voice was a low growl.

The nurse, intimidated, stammered the name of the hospital and the current date.

Julius froze.

He looked at the calendar on the wall, then at his own hands. No wedding ring. No faint scar on his palm from where he'd punched a wall in a fit of despair.

A wild, incredulous joy surged through him. He was back. He was back before the forced engagement, before he'd lost Amina, before Candice had sunk her claws into him and his family.

He tried to sit up fully, but a wave of dizziness and a sharp pain behind his eyes forced him back against the pillows. He took a steadying breath, the physical discomfort a dull echo compared to the psychological torment he'd just escaped. He grabbed his phone from the bedside table, his fingers shaking so badly he could barely unlock it. He had to hear her voice. He had to know she was safe.

"Sir, you really shouldn't be using your phone," the nurse began, but a single, withering glare from Julius silenced her.

He found Amina's number and pressed call. It rang twice before she answered.

"Julius?" Her voice. It was warm, real, not a figment of his tortured memory. It was the sound of his salvation.

His throat closed up. He couldn't speak.

"Julius, are you there? Is everything okay?"

He cleared his throat, forcing the words out. "I'm fine, Amina. Just... wanted to make sure you were safe." He ended the call before he could break down completely.

She was still there. He hadn't lost her yet.

And he would burn the world to the ground before he let Candice Luna take her from him again.

Just then, the door to his room burst open. His personal assistant rushed in, his hair disheveled and his suit jacket damp. He looked both furious and humiliated.

"Sir," the assistant sputtered, "that woman, Candice Luna-she's completely unhinged!"

Julius's eyes narrowed. "What's the status on the Luna merger? And how is she?" he asked, his voice dripping with disdain.

The assistant recounted the humiliating encounter, from the thrown water to the smashed roses.

Julius didn't get angry. He let out a short, sharp laugh. It was a cold, mirthless sound.

"So, she's starting her games already," he murmured to himself. He remembered this from his past life. The calculated tantrums, the feigned vulnerability. Candice Luna was a master manipulator, playing the victim while she moved her chess pieces across the board. This time, he wouldn't fall for it.

"Ignore her," Julius commanded his assistant. "Send Vance, the lawyer. I want the merger documents pushed through. I want her legally boxed in before she can make another move."

"Sir, she seemed... genuinely unstable," the assistant offered timidly.

"It's an act," Julius snapped, his patience gone. "She's an actress, and a damn good one. Do as I say."

He swung his legs out of bed and walked to the window, pulling back the curtains. Sunlight streamed in, glinting off the glass and steel of the Manhattan skyline. He could see the Luna Group tower from here.

This time, he would be the predator. He would protect Amina, and he would take back control of his own life.

His phone buzzed. It was General Morrison, an old friend of his father's from his military days.

"Heard you took a spill, son. You alright?"

"I'll live," Julius said curtly. "Listen, I might be making some aggressive moves in the coming weeks. I may need enhanced security. Someone discreet, the best you know."

"I've got just the man," Morrison said without hesitation. "Brandon Castro. Ex-Delta. Runs his own private firm now. The man's a ghost. I'll send you his contact."

Julius grunted his thanks. He'd take every advantage he could get.

Just then, Arthur Vance appeared at the door. "Mr. Hansen. I tried to see Miss Luna. She refused to open the door. Barricaded it from the inside."

Julius's eyes narrowed. The game was more intricate this time. She was playing hard to get, trying to make him chase her, to make him want the prize.

A slow, cold smile spread across his lips.

"Let her hide," he said, his voice dangerously soft. "Tomorrow, I'll go over there myself. And I will tear her pathetic little mask right off her face."

He lay back in bed, closing his eyes. He pictured Amina's smile, the one true and good thing in his life. She was his lighthouse.

And as for the woman in the room down the hall, the manipulative viper who had ruined him once before?

He felt nothing but cold, calculating disgust. And the unshakeable certainty that this time, he would win.

The long-wheelbase Lincoln glided to a stop in the circular driveway of the Luna family estate. Before the driver could even open her door, Candice ripped the IV needle from the back of her hand.

A single drop of blood welled up, bright red against her pale skin. She ignored the sting, pushing the car door open and stumbling out onto the gravel.

The familiar, ornate front door of her home loomed before her. An image of her father's body lying on this same gravel, broken and lifeless, flashed in her mind. Her knees buckled, and she caught herself on the car's fender to keep from collapsing.

She pushed the memory down, forcing her legs to move.

Inside, the grand foyer was quiet. Her father, Silas Luna, was standing by a large oak table, staring down at a thick document-the Hansen merger agreement. He looked up as she entered, his face a mask of worry.

"Candice!" he shouted, his voice cracking with alarm. He dropped the papers and rushed to her side. Seeing the raw needle mark and the drop of blood on her hand, his face went white. "My God, are you insane? You should be in the hospital!"

He grabbed her by the shoulders, his grip tight with a father's terror. "What happened? Are you hurt? Someone call Dr. Evans, now!"

The warmth of his embrace, the sheer panic in his voice-a feeling she thought she'd lost forever-shattered the last of her composure. She buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed, the tears a torrent of grief and relief held back for an entire lifetime.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, sweetheart," Silas murmured, stroking her hair. He thought her tears were from the trauma of the accident. "It's over now. No one is going to hurt you."

Candice pulled back, her face wet, her eyes blazing with a desperate intensity. "I'm not marrying Julius Hansen," she said, each word a vow.

Silas's expression shifted from concern to confusion, then to unease. "Candice, we've talked about this. Luna Group... we have a cash flow problem. The merger, the marriage... it's the only way to stabilize the company. It's our lifeline."

The same words he'd used before. The same logic that had led them to the slaughterhouse.

"It's not a lifeline, Dad. It's a noose," she said, gripping his arm. "They're not trying to save us. They're trying to swallow us whole. I have a way to fix this, a better way. You have to trust me."

Silas stared at her, truly seeing her for the first time since she'd walked in. The desperation in her eyes was familiar, but beneath it was a steely resolve he had never seen before. He hesitated, then gave a slow nod. "Okay. Okay, Candy. We won't talk about it right now."

Just then, the doorbell chimed. The butler announced that Mr. Preston Hester was here to see her.

Candice's blood ran cold. Preston. In her past life, he had confessed his feelings for her. After she'd gently turned him down, his wounded pride had turned to spite. He'd used his family's influence to create small, but significant, obstacles for Luna Group, weakening them just enough for the Hansens to strike.

"I can't see him," she said quickly, her voice low. "Please, Dad. Tell him I'm resting."

Silas looked puzzled by her vehemence but did as she asked.

Candice watched through the living room's floor-to-ceiling windows as Preston stood on the porch, holding a bouquet of lilies. He had that easy, confident smile of the old-money elite, a smile she now knew could hide a petty, vindictive streak. She instinctively shrank back into the shadows.

He was turned away, but not before leaving the flowers with the butler.

Candice let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. She turned to her father. "I need to see the company's financials. The core reports. Right now."

Silas's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he saw the urgency in her face. He led her to his study and opened the heavy safe behind a painting, retrieving a set of bound ledgers.

Candice's hands flew over the pages. The numbers were just as she remembered them-bad, but not yet fatal. Her finger traced along a line item. "Here," she said, her voice sharp. "And here. These are hidden losses, disguised as asset transfers. Hansen's people told you these were stable, didn't they?"

Silas stared at the pages, his eyes widening. He had just started to have his own suspicions about those very accounts. "How did you know?"

"Because their plan isn't to merge, Dad," Candice said, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "It's a hostile takeover dressed up as a wedding. They're going to bleed us dry from the inside."

The color drained from Silas's face. He looked from the ledgers to his daughter, a dawning horror in his eyes. He was finally starting to believe her.

Candice closed the ledger and stood before him, placing her hands on his shoulders. "Trust me, Dad. I will protect what you built. I swear it."

He pulled her into another hug, this one tight with fear and a newfound respect. For the first time, Candice felt like she had an ally.

The intercom on the desk buzzed, startling them both.

The butler's voice was strained. "Sir... Mr. Vance from the Hansen legal team is here. He's... he's brought his entire team with him."