I woke up gasping, as if someone had been strangling me.

Where was I?

The sun streamed through the curtains, and the faint scent of lavender filled the air. I looked around the room, hoping to find a clue. The place was extremely neat, with no signs of dust and the sheets still warm against my skin.

For a moment, the images from last night clung to my mind. Jason tangled in bed with Vanessa, my voice cutting through the room as I demanded a divorce. My heart still pounded, my breath unsteady.

It hit me like a bucket of cold water.

It hadn’t happened.

I was still trapped in this marriage. That was just a dream.

A bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it. I’d tasted freedom for a few precious seconds, only for it to be ripped away the moment I opened my eyes.

My gaze fell to the small folded paper on the bedside table. A note.

Didn’t want to wake you. Breakfast downstairs. — Vincent

I ran my fingers over the handwriting, my mind shifting. Vincent was real. Last night in court was real. The win was real. But Jason… he still had no idea how close he was to losing everything.

I got out of bed, my bare feet touching the cool floor. My jaw tightened. If that dream was any sign, it was exactly what I needed. A reminder of where this road would take me.

Jason wasn’t going to see it coming.

Not until I made it real.

I walked towards the chair and reached for the night robe wearing it. The material was super soft and smooth almost as if it was expensive. I took in the room once again. Everything looked expensive.

But why was I in a hotel room? Had I slept with Vincent Vale on our first night together?

I closed my eyes trying to remember anything but I couldn't. My phone buzzed on the table making me reach for it.

Vanessa: Lyra, where are you? The board members are waiting for you.

Seeing Vanessa's name made me clench my phone. She was still my assistant. I wanted to fire her so badly but I knew now was not the time.

My phone buzzed again.

Vanessa: The chairman is asking for you. Should I tell him you’re sick?

I typed back slowly.

No. I’m on my way.

I stepped into the bathroom and removed the night robe throwing it to the floor. Putting on the shower, I moaned as the warm water cascaded over my skin, washing away the faint chill from the air. Steam curled upward, fogging the mirror and wrapping me in a comforting haze.

For a moment, I let my mind wander back to my past life when I actually trusted Vanessa. I used to leave her in charge of entertaining the board members when I was swamped with meetings, confident she would represent me well. I never imagined she would one day use that access for her own gain… and Jason’s.

The thought burned in my chest. Wouldn't happen again.

I tilted my head back under the spray, letting the water run over my face, trying to drown out the anger. That’s when I heard the faint click of the door behind me.

I froze.

Through the glass, a tall figure moved into view, his reflection faint in the mist. My pulse quickened when I realized who it was.

Vincent.

He stood there, his gaze sweeping over me with a calm intensity, as if he wasn’t sure whether to leave or stay. I turned slightly, stunned, heat rushing to my cheeks despite the steam already warming my skin. The bathroom glass was transparent.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The air between us felt heavy, charged. His eyes lingered on mine, then dropped lower, tracing the trail of water down my collarbone before snapping back to my face.

Slowly, I reached for the glass door, pushing it open just enough to grab the night robe on the floor.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice soft but unsteady. "Didn't you already leave?"

" Yeah....I'm sorry. I forgot something important. My wallet." he said reaching for a black luxury men's wallet that was on the sink.

I didn't notice it when I walked in.

My cheeks flushed as I watched him stare at my body. "Can you please leave now?" I asked, my tone harsher than usual.

"Of course," Vincent said turning around to leave.

The door slammed behind him.

I sighed in relief frozen as the warm water continued to pour down my skin. A few seconds later, I walked out of the bathroom. The room was empty which made me relieved. I quickly reached for my clothing putting it on.

The last thing I wanted was for him to come back and meet him still here.

**************************************

"How was it?" Vanessa stood with a smile as I walked out of the boardroom being the last person to leave.

Her face was the perfect mask of concern, lips curved just right, eyes wide with false sincerity. But I saw it. The faint twitch at the corner of her mouth, the gleam that had nothing to do with kindness.

Pretending.

She was good at it. Too good.

“It went fine,” I said, brushing past her without slowing. I didn’t give her the satisfaction of asking for details. She fell into step beside me anyway, heels clicking against the marble floor like a drumbeat I couldn’t shake.

“I kept them engaged while you were gone,” she added, voice dripping with that fake helpfulness she had perfected over the years. “You know… just like old times.”

I stopped walking, turning to face her fully. My smile was calm, but my eyes told a different story. “Yes,” I said softly, “exactly like old times.”

Her expression faltered for a split second. It was so quick most people wouldn’t notice. But I did. I noticed because she had been my assistant and close friend who betrayed me with my husband.

As we reached the elevator, my phone buzzed making me reach to check my phone. Vincent had texted.

We need to talk. Tonight.

I didn’t respond. Not yet.

Because right now, my attention was on Vanessa and how best to peel away her polished mask until everyone saw what was really underneath.

The elevator doors slid shut, trapping us in a small, mirrored box together. She adjusted her blouse, glanced at her reflection, then at me.

“So, Lyra… big win yesterday,” she said. “You must be… relieved.”

"Yes, it was. Where is Jason?" I asked turning to look at her.

Suddenly, a scent caught me. Roses, soft and familiar.

The type of perfume Jason liked.

The hair on my neck rose. It wasn’t the perfume Vanessa used to wear at work in the beginning. Was this the time their affair started? Maybe it was months before now.

My hands clenched by my side as the elevator opened. Vanessa stepped out first before I did.

" I have no idea. He should be in his office."

I stepped out behind her and didn't even bother to go and check. I needed to keep an eye on the company fiances. Make sure that there was nothing that would backfire on me.

“Do you want me to bring you coffee before your next meeting?” Vanessa asked, glancing over her shoulder.

“No,” I said smoothly. “I’ll get it myself.”

We stopped at my office. She lingered, searching for something in my expression, maybe trying to read me. I gave her nothing. She finally turned away, her phone already in her hand and her fingers moving fast.

I entered inside and found Jason waiting for me.

"Darling, you're back." he said quickly jumping up the moment I walked in.

He was seated on my seat. His expression was one of fear as if he had been caught doing something bad.

Was this why Vanessa had been texting on her phone earlier?

Jason obviously didn't see the message.

"What are you doing in my office? You shouldn't be here." I said walking over to meet him.

" I thought I should wait for you while you were in the meeting with the shareholders. What did they say? Did they agree to the expansion budget?" His voice was calm, but I knew something was wrong.

Jason was the one that had suggested the expansion budget. I agreed to bring it up with the shareholders. I didn't even check.

God. You're really stupid, Lyra.

“Yes,” I said finally, my tone cool. “They agreed."

Jason leaned back in my chair as if he owned it. “Perfect. This could be the start of something big for us, Lyra.”

Us. The word almost made me laugh.

In my past life, he’d said those same words to me frequently. Now I knew that he wasn't referring to me and him but he and Vanessa.

Jason’s phone buzzed on my desk. He didn’t reach for it. But the name flashing on the screen made my breath hitch.

Mum.

He reached for it and answered it smiling wide. "Hello mum,"

His face suddenly changed a few seconds as he got up from my chair. Jason’s knuckles whitened around the phone.

“What? When?” His voice cracked, urgency bleeding into every word. I watched his jaw tighten, his other hand already fumbling for his keys. “I’ll be there right away.”

He hung up, his eyes darting to me. “It’s my mom… she’s had a stroke.”

His words suddenly made me remember what happened in my past life. Margaret had used her illness as an excuse to stay. If she had not stayed, my baby wouldn't have died.

This time, I wasn't going to let her have her way.

"Jason, wait." I called out stopping him before he could leave. "I'm coming along with you."

Margaret's hospital room was just the same way it was in my past life. She was laying down in bed with a mask over her face and a needle into her arm while she was pretending to be unconscious.

Liar.

In my past life, I had found out after she came to mock me a few days after I buried my child. She told me that my child was nothing but a bastard and her reason for staying with us was because she wanted to find Jason a new wife. I tried to tell Jason but he didn't believe me.

The sound of beeping machines caught my attention making me stare around. Just as I had expected, she chose the most expensive VIP hospital room to act her drama.

The doctor walked in a few seconds after us.

"Mr. Douglas?" The doctor asked as he looked at his notepad.

I couldn't help but wonder how much she had paid them to act this drama with her.

"What's wrong with my mother? Why did she suddenly have a stroke? She has always been healthy and strong." Jason said speaking like a caring son.

I rolled my eyes.

I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall, watching the little performance unfold.

The doctor gave a rehearsed sigh, flipping through his notes. “It seems she suffered a mild stroke due to stress. We’ll need to keep her here for observation for a few days.”

Mild stroke. Stress. What a convenient diagnosis.

Jason’s eyes softened as he stepped closer to the bed, his hand brushing against Margaret’s. “Mom… you should’ve told me you weren’t feeling well.”

Her fingers twitched ever so slightly beneath his touch. Pretending to be unconscious, yet responding. Typical.

I took a slow step forward, my gaze locked on her face. “Strange,” I said, my voice low but sharp enough to slice through the room. “For someone who’s unconscious, her breathing pattern is a little too… deliberate.”

Jason shot me a look, warning in his eyes. “Lyra—”

I lifted both hands in the air, " I’m just concerned. After all, I wouldn’t want anyone to think this is all an act.”

For a brief second, her eyelids fluttered, and I knew I’d struck a nerve.

But before Jason could say anything else, a phone rang in the room. His phone. He glanced at the screen, and his expression shifted.

“It’s from home,” he muttered, answering quickly.

The voice on the other end spoke fast, but I caught a few words. Enough to make Jason’s jaw tighten.

When he hung up, his eyes met mine, tense. “Something happened at the house.”

My gaze turned to him immediately. "What happened?"

His lips pressed into a thin line. “Someone broke in.”

Broke in? That didn't happen in my past life.

Jason quickly tucked his phone back into his pocket. I knew he wasn't going to want to leave his mother and frankly, I didn't want to stay with her for even a second longer.

I stepped forward.

"I'll go and check it out. You stay and take care of your mother." I said glancing at her one last time as I left.

Margaret still maintained her facade but I couldn't even bear to look at her.

********************************

I opened the door carefully making sure not to make a sound in case anyone was still around. The entire house was a mess. Shards of glass crunched beneath my shoes as I stepped inside. The living room looked like it had been turned upside down. The cushions ripped open, drawers yanked out, papers scattered across the floor.

I moved slowly, my eyes scanning every corner. The curtain by the window swayed gently, though the air inside was still. Someone had left in a hurry.

In the dining room, a chair was tipped over, and the table runner had been pulled halfway to the ground. It didn’t look random. Whoever did this wasn’t after jewelry or electronics. They were searching for something.

My eyes darted up the stairs.

I made my way upstairs, my hand resting on the railing. Each creak of the wood echoed louder than it should have, and my chest tightened. My eyes landed on the open door of our bedroom and I walked inside. The place was just as disarranged as it was downstairs.

My nightstand had also been searched.

Luckily, I had moved my stamp and checkbook the moment I returned. I had still not signed over the transfer of power. In my past life, Jason had managed to frame me for embezzlement.

Was he the one? Or was it Vanessa?

I looked around to check if anything was missing. Just as I had suspected, nothing was taken. My phone buzzed making me bring it out.

It was Jason.

"Lyra, are you okay? Has the police arrived yet?" Jason asked sounding all nice and concerned.

I knew he was behind it.

"Here is the warm water you asked for." A voice echoed in the background. It was Vanessa's voice.

I froze.

The sound of her voice rippled through me like ice water down my spine.

She was at the hospital with him.

Jason cleared his throat quickly, as if trying to cover it up. “That was… a nurse. Don’t worry about it. I’ll send the police over right now. Just stay put, okay?”

I forced a calm tone. “Sure.”

The line went dead, but my grip on the phone only tightened.

In my past life, Jason had been good at hiding his dirt. Careful. Calculated. But now? He was making mistakes. And every slip was proof I could use to deal with him later.

Suddenly, footsteps echoed in the hallway. I quickly hid behind the door reaching for one of Jason's golf clubs and held it tightly ready to swing it. The footsteps got nearer and my hands tightened around the golf club.

The door creaked open. I lifted the golf club, my pulse pounding in my ears.

“Lyra?"

I froze, lowering the club just enough to see him step into view. Vincent. He was dressed in a dark suit, his expression unreadable, eyes scanning the wreckage in the room before settling on me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice tight.

“I was in the area,” he said, but his gaze was too focused, too alert for it to be a coincidence. “I called and your secretary told me that you had gone home to check after your house was robbed. I had to come. What were you thinking coming here instead of calling the police? What if someone was still around?"

I opened my mouth ready to answer when red and blue lights flashed outside the window. The wail of sirens grew louder until two police officers knocked on the door downstairs.

My eyes widened. Vanessa had told Vincent that I would be here? How did she know? And why did she tell him?

The knock on the door grew louder.

I tightened my grip on the golf club, my mind racing. Vanessa.

Of course.

She wanted this. The break-in, the timing, the fact Vincent was here before the police even arrived. It all painted the picture she was dying to frame. A cheating wife caught at home with another man.

The knock downstairs turned into heavy pounding.

Vincent glanced at me, his brows furrowing. “We should answer before they break the door down.”

I grabbed his hand stopping him before he could move. Vincent's eyes widened as he looked down at my hand holding his.

I couldn't explain.

“Hide under the bed,” I whispered sharply, my voice low but urgent.

His brows lifted. “What—”

“Just do it,” I hissed, pulling at his arm. But as I stepped back to make space for him, my foot hit the edge of the bed

I stumbled, my balance giving way. Vincent reached out instinctively to steady me, but instead, the pull of his weight tipped us both backward. We landed on the bed in a soft, tangled heap.

The faint scent of his cologne surrounded me. It ch, warm, and intoxicating. His body was firm against mine, his hand braced beside my head, his face hovering so close I could feel the heat of his breath.

For a moment, the world outside faded. The pounding on the door, the flashing lights, the danger. All I could hear was the quick, uneven rhythm of my heartbeat…and his.

His eyes locked on mine, dark and intense, searching. “Your heart's beating fast,” he murmured, his voice low enough that it seemed meant only for me.

I swallowed, my lips parting slightly. “Because you… nearly crushed me.”

The corner of his mouth lifted, the faintest hint of a smirk."Or because you also feel the same as I do. You're shy."

My eyes darted to his.

Pushing him off me, I quickly got off the bed and looked away. He was right. There was this sort of pull between us. It hadn't been there in my past life.

"The police can't see you here. If they do, it's not going to end well for both of us." I said trying to sound serious.

"What do you mean?" Vincent asked as his eyes narrowed.

"This is a setup by my husband's mistress," I replied, my voice low, my gaze locked on his.

Before he could respond, heavy boots pounded up the stairs. The sound was getting closer. Fast.

Vincent’s jaw tightened, and in that brief second, I realized… we were out of time.