Guinevere staggered to her feet, her chest heaving as ragged breaths tore in and out of her lungs. "Why are you just standing there?!" she barked, her voice sharp and frantic. "Go catch her!"

Cleopatra moved back again, but loose rocks tumbled into the sea below, forcing her to steady herself immediately.

"No, don't move!" Anthony cried, fear flooding his eyes. "Please... please come back!"

"You crazy fuck!" Guinevere screamed, grabbing his shirt. "Why are you telling her to come back? Just let her fall!"

The moment that word left Guinevere's mouth, rage flared within him. With a sharp shove, Anthony sent her tumbling to the ground.

"Shut up!" he cut in sharply.

"I can't lose her," he snarled. "I own her. She's mine!"

It dawned on both Cleopatra and Guinevere then, losing Cleopatra was a chink in Anthony's otherwise impenetrable armor.

"You're terrified of losing control because domination is all you crave, not love," Guinevere sneered. "You truly are pathetic. This is not love!"

Cleopatra raised her voice, cutting through them both.

"Over my dead body will I be your plaything." She laughed bitterly. "You fear losing me out of selfishness. That's why I'd choose Calvin over you a hundred times."

At the mention of Calvin, jealousy flared in Anthony's veins, heat twisting through him as fists clenched instinctively.

"And you think he's better than me?" he snapped. "If he was so great, why's he six feet under? Just a fool playing hero-"

Cleopatra cut him off.

"This is where you're wrong. He wasn't just a hero. He was a leader, someone who would do anything to protect those he loved. That isn't weakness; that's real love, something you'll never understand. He was a courageous soul who fought for love itself. I'd rather plunge into the abyss than spend another moment with you!"

She spun around at once, her gaze locking onto Guinevere.

"And you... you're utterly despicable. No wonder you never excel at anything. Your heart is poisoned with hate and bitterness, and even in another lifetime, Calvin would never love you."

"Shut the hell up, you trollop!" Guinevere screamed, her voice shaking.

"Guinevere, look at yourself just once," she whispered, exhaustion and grief weighing down her words. "You're beyond saving, beyond even being called human. I never thought the girl I grew up with would become this... this monster. We were best friends. We shared our childhood, our laughter, our tears. What happened to those years? What happened to the bond we had as sisters, as our mother's daughters?"

Right then, Cleopatra sobbed, her voice breaking. "Was it all so insignificant?" A hollow laugh escaped her lips. "Was I just being delusional, thinking we would always be together forever?" Her laughter faded into silence. "I suppose... I was alone in this thing called friendship."

"Guin, I'm still in denial that you hated me this much," Cleopatra whispered, her voice breaking. "It hurts so much. It really does-"

"Enough!" Guinevere snapped, cutting her off sharply.

"If you had truly cared about me, why did you keep stealing the things I loved most?!" Guinevere screamed, her voice unhinged, madness flashing in her eyes.

"Guinevere, you're deranged! I never stole anything from you!" Cleopatra shouted, her voice shaking with fury.

"Woe unto you and unto Anthony," Cleopatra said calmly. "Do you both truly lack a conscience, to take a human life without a shred of pity? Calvin may be dead, but he will always be the one I love; my selfless, unyielding shield."

Her laughter echoed as she stepped backward. She would rather die than let them capture her.

Just then, she fell. Her body tumbled down the cliff and plunged into the sea with a violent splash.

The deeper she sank, the quieter the world became. Time seemed to freeze as saltwater filled her lungs and darkness closed in.

Feeling her breath choke and fade, she muttered an earnest wish.

"If fate could be kinder, if there's a next life. Let me meet him again, I-"

Then everything went silent.

Cleopatra's consciousness returned slowly, shrouded in fog. Disoriented, her body felt broken, and a deep terror settled in her chest as distant music drifted in, making it seem as if she had been dragged back into a world that no longer felt real.

Her eyes snapped open. She gasped and coughed as though she had surfaced from deep water. Nausea twisted her stomach, and panic flooded her chest as she took in the familiar surroundings. Her gaze fell on a neatly folded uniform resting on the bench.

Suddenly, Ana grabbed her by the shoulders. A familiar face loomed before her, lips moving as if to soothe her, but no words reached Cleopatra. Her mind spun wildly, desperate to make sense of what was happening.

'Wait... this is the Atelier Club...?'

Her voice shook as she forced the words past her dry lips.

"H-How... How am I not underwater? Didn't I die?" she stammered

Her hand went to her skin, her fingers pinching sharply. Disbelief lingered, but the sharp sting searing through her confirmed it was real.

'I'm not dead. I'm ... alive.'

In the chaos, she wrenched free from Ana's grip and lunged toward the door only to slam headfirst into someone the moment it swung open.

"Ah, my head..." she groaned, clutching it. The pain confirmed it, she was truly reborn.

"Her head felt impossibly heavy as a familiar voice cut through the haze, calling her name. Soft, gentle hands steadied her, and the moment their eyes locked, her body froze every nerve ignited by a shock so profound it stole her breath."

"K-Ka...tie?" Cleopatra whispered, She couldn't believe Katie was alive and standing before her.

"Ka...tie... is this really you?" She struggled to steady herself, but faltered when Katie tried to help, Katie's movements hesitant."

Meanwhile, Cleopatra felt a strange wave of familiarity wash over her, as if déjà vu had settled in her chest. She barely had time to process it before Katie's voice cut through her thoughts.

"Are you okay?" Katie asked, a flicker of annoyance in her eyes. "Did you get hurt?" Her gaze swept over Cleopatra, widening as she searched for any sign of injury."

Cleopatra glimpsed the brief flicker of irritation in Katie's eyes, yet it stirred no reaction within her.

"You're alive, I can't believe you're alive," she sobbed. "I'm so sorry-so sorry for not believing you, and for treating you so badly."

Katie's chest constricted painfully, her words trembling yet heavy with disbelief, each one carrying the sting of years unacknowledged. "Since when did I ever matter?"

Meanwhile, confusion swirled through Katie's mind as she struggled to understand why Cleopatra was being unusually kind and asking such strange questions. Her eyes remained fixed on Cleopatra's tear-streaked face.

Still, Cleopatra drew her close, holding her as if the world itself were crumbling around them. Her grip tightened with unspoken desperation. Feeling the raw ache in her friend's soul, Katie mirrored the embrace, her hands gentle against Cleopatra's back, trying to soothe the storm within her.

"Stop crying, it's okay," Katie whispered, her hand lightly resting on Cleopatra's back, soothing yet hesitant.

Cleopatra raised her eyes to meet hers, calm on the surface but heavy with unspoken weight. "Katie, may I have a moment?"

Katie exhaled slowly, relief washing over her. 'Yes of course."

They found a quiet room where they could speak in peace. Once seated, Cleopatra wasted no time.

"Where is Calvin? How is he? Is he safe?" she asked abruptly.

Katie blinked. "Did I hear that correctly? Wow! you're asking about Calvin. He's fine," she said, astonished.

At that point, Cleopatra felt a wave of relief, a shy smile softening her lips. "We should keep in touch. Actually, there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about."

Katie fixed her gaze on her, giving her undivided attention. "Alright, go on."

In an instant she poured out everything to Katie. How Guinevere had harbored jealousy since high school, how she had manipulated her into giving up her INK Model debut after her parents' death, and how, behind a façade of friendliness, Guinevere's heart had held nothing but hatred. Katie listened in quiet composure, unsurprised; she had warned Cleopatra about Guinevere more times than she could count.

"Hello!" Katie's voice rang with unshakable confidence, sharp and unapologetic. She lifted both hands, twisting her index and middle fingers with effortless flair.

"I noticed it long ago, and I even told you back in school. She doesn't just despise you, she's envious that Calvin chose you over her."

Katie's eyes narrowed as she shook her head with sharp disdain. "You pushed my beloved brother aside and clung shamelessly to that damn Anthony."

Cleopatra smiled and offered an apology, her gaze lingering on Katie as echoes of her old, familiar warmth resurfaced only for the smile to slowly fade as she slipped into quiet reflection.

'I'm sorry, Katie. I can't tell you that I've been reborn.'

The words remained trapped in her chest. 'I'm truly disappointed in myself for pushing such a good person out of my life.'

Her gaze fell, regret tightening around her heart as the weight of everything she had lost finally settled in.

Without hesitation.

"Guinevere is still INK's model, right?" Cleopatra's voice carried a cold edge.

"Yeah. Why are you asking? Don't tell me-"

Cleopatra cut her off.

"I'm coming back into modeling." Cleopatra smirked

“Now that’s the spirit, girl!” she exclaimed, her voice alive with excitement. “Getting into the spotlight won’t be easy. Start with backstage work for now, while I comb through potential brands. Securing even a few good ones will give your debut a real edge.”

“Okay thanks Katie”

Moments later, Cleopatra hugged Katie tightly before reluctantly letting go, their whispered goodbyes laden with unspoken words.

At 10 pm, Cleopatra retired from her work and rushed back to her apartment.

Pausing at the keypad, doubt flickered would the old password still work?

She entered the code.

The door unlocked.

Stepping inside, she froze. Nothing had changed. Nostalgia hit her all at once, followed by a sudden, chilling realization.

‘If I’ve truly been reborn… then I have the upper hand,’ she mused, her eyes widening with realization. ‘My life has been reset. If I can foresee every pattern, I can defy the fate that once shattered me.’

“Holy moly!” she gasped, her breath catching. “I can rebuild my career and save Calvin from dying”

A spark of determination ignited in her eyes as she lunged for the calendar, scanning it frantically.

January 3rd, 2018.

She grabbed her bag and pulled out her phone. The glowing screen confirmed the date.

Her heart thundered. Nearly a whole year lay ahead of her, a chance to rewrite fate and prevent Calvin’s death.

Her thoughts churned like a raging storm. She needed a solid plan to deal with Guinevere and Anthony.

“This time, I won’t be naïve,” she sneered, contempt filling her gaze. “I’ll break every wall and go all out. It’s my turn to drag you out from behind your masks and destroy you both.”

She suddenly unlocked her phone and checked her serving schedule.

“If today’s the third, that means I’ve already served Anthony twice,” she muttered. “Before the third time, I should run into Calvin.” Her breath caught. “Bloody hell, yes. That’s why I ran into Katie today. It’s like I’m reliving my past.”

In a flash she shook her head sharply. “No. I shouldn’t jump to conclusions. I’ll wait and see how things unfold.”

Even so, a decision had already taken root in her heart. After work tomorrow, she will go to INK’s Model Agency to see him. She only needed Katie’s help to come up with a convincing excuse.

In a fleeting moment, a thought struck her like a spark. She rushed to the table, yanked open the drawer, and pulled out a notebook. Sitting down, she flipped it open and began sketching her plans. The once-blank pages quickly filled with bold notes: debuting as INK’s model, sabotaging Guinevere’s gigs, and exposing Anthony’s fractured personality.

Once the decision was made, there was no turning back. Fate had already begun to shift.

Eventually, the next day arrived. Cleopatra rummaged through her wardrobe, pulling out outfit after outfit, but none of them felt right.

“I can’t wear any of this,” she muttered, hands planted on her waist as she stared at the clothes scattered across the floor. “I’ll stop by the department store and pick up something better after I finish work.”

“This time, I’ll come to you Calvin,” she whispered softly. “Just wait for me.”

Without a second thought, she grabbed her bag and dashed out, racing toward work. As she arrived at the gates of the Atelier, something strange made her pause. The workers moved with eerie precision, every motion sharp and perfect, as though an unseen force were directing them.

She brushed it off as she entered the club building and made her way toward the changing room.

The instant she pushed the door open, she froze.

A flicker of wonder passed through her chest as her fingers tightened around the doorknob. Inside, voices clashed with the sharp click of heels, while the scent of perfume and hairspray thickened the already tense air. A petite girl darted past, nearly colliding with her, and the room buzzed with electric energy.

“No… no! My skirt, it’s torn. Why today of all days?” the girl cried, her voice trembling.

Another voice snapped back, impatient. “Just wear a gown!”

“No!” she barked, yanking the fabric from the girl’s hands. Her cheeks burned with frustration, eyes blazing. “I wanted a skirt. It’ll be easier to seduce him that way.”

Her words crackled through the room, turning heads, but she didn’t care.

Suddenly, a piercing scream shattered the silence of the hallway.

Their hearts racing, everyone surged toward the source of the scream. When Cleopatra arrived, she came to an abrupt halt, paralyzed by what she saw.

Tall, impeccably dressed bodyguards swept through the corridor, their perfectly tailored suits, sharp haircuts, and disciplined strides clearing a pathway with military precision. Their broad shoulders gleamed under the lights.

Completely unbothered, Cleopatra dismissed the commotion, assuming the girls were squealing over yet another boy-band idol hardly worth her notice.

But then something shifted.

It wasn’t the bodyguards that made her pulse falter.

It was the man walking behind them.

A young, breathtakingly handsome figure emerged, dangerously elegant. His marble-carved jawline, styled dark hair, and russet, custom-fitted suit gave him a sculpted, commanding presence.

With every step, a soft, commanding echo rolled across the tiles, his black shoes gleaming in the light with deliberate precision. The air itself seemed to crackle with energy, as though the hallway acknowledged his presence.

Cleopatra’s gaze locked onto him, unblinking, as if the world around her had ceased to exist.

He walked down three slow, deliberate paces each one echoing like a command before Alvin practically flew toward him.

“Good evening, Mr. Ink. This way please,” his voice trembling with the kind of politeness that bordered on fear.

At the same moment, one of the workers rushed by and accidentally collided with the girls standing in the queue, sending a ripple of movement through the crowd.

Cleopatra stumbled and collided with him.

He instinctively reached out to steady her, unaware it was her and in that instant, their eyes met. Recognition ignited between them like a bolt of lightning.

Both froze, caught in an invisible force that seemed to pull them together, impossible to break.

“Cleopatra,” Calvin whispered, his deep voice carrying a weight that could make anyone fall under its spell.

“Uh… ah… sorry! I didn’t mean to bump into you,” she stammered, barely able to catch her breath.

Instantly, Alvin stepped forward, trying to draw Calvin’s attention away from Cleopatra.

“It’s an honor to have you visit Atelier Club, Mr. Ink,” Alvin said, smiling like a man who just discovered gold in his backyard. “Opportunities like this are extremely rare. We’ll take excellent care of you with our most beautiful escorts—”

Cleopatra cut Alvin off instantly.

“I will serve him, sir,” she said abruptly.

At that very moment, Alvin flustered, trying to push her away, but Cleopatra refused to budge. Calvin’s eyes widened, stunned by her sudden interest.

“Let her serve me,” he commanded, his gaze locked firmly on her.

Without delay, Alvin led him straight into one of Atelier Club’s most luxurious VIP rooms, the kind reserved for people whose names opened doors on their own. Calvin entered with the quiet dominance of a man who didn’t need to announce his power every breath he took announced it for him.

Alvin hovered anxiously. “How’s the air conditioner, sir? Too cold? Too warm?”

“It’s fine,” he replied, voice level and dangerously indifferent.

As Alvin scanned the room again, restless. “Should I bring in some air freshener? Something citrus? Floral? Whatever you like”

Calvin didn’t bother speaking. A simple lift of his eyes, and His secretary stepped forward.

“Mr. Alvin, please bring citrus freshener,” Smith said smoothly.

“Yes, right away!” Alvin whispered to a worker, panic sharpening his movements as the door slammed shut behind him.

The door swung open again, and Cleopatra glided in, pushing a cart adorned with glittering wine and meticulously plated gourmet dishes. With practiced, almost hypnotic precision, she arranged everything before pouring a glass of wine and presenting it to Calvin

All the while, Calvin’s gaze remained fixed on her, unblinking.

“Here’s your wine, Mr. Calvin,” she said softly, her eyes lingering on his face as a sweet smile curved her lips.

“Mr. Calvin?” he murmured, his fingers grazing hers as he accepted the glass.

A faint smile curved her lips.

“Then may I call you as I always do?”

Sliding close, their bodies nearly touching, she tilted her head and murmured, ‘Cal,’ the word dripping with a sultry allure, waiting for nothing in return yet daring him to respond

“Cal,” she called again, this time her voice softer and warmer, almost impossible to resist.

Right there, she inched closer, their skin grazing in the slightest touch, and a shiver of anticipation raced between them, electric and unspoken.

Calvin’s thoughts lingered on Cleopatra’s behavior. Cal; that single name was enough to draw the past back into his heart.

“What else may I serve you, Cal?” she asked, her voice tinged with anxiety.

‘Cal…’ he muttered under his breath, and memories he hadn’t dared touch in years surged forward, crashing over him like a river long buried, carrying the ache, the warmth, and the weight of a past he thought he had lost.”

“What else can I serve you?” she asked again, a small smile curling at the corners of her lips.

Calvin was both surprised and confused by her sudden change. His eyes stayed fixed on her as she spoke, this was not the same aura she had carried six years ago before they had parted.

Simultaneously, Cleopatra picked a crimson grape and held it out to him, her fingers brushing delicately against his, inviting him to take it from her.

“Try this crimson grape,” she said, holding it out. “It’s healthy and will give you a boost of energy.”

In an instant, Calvin seized her hand, halting her attempt to feed him the grape.

“What is this?!” he demanded, his tone so cold it seemed to slice through the room. “Are you merely doing your job, or messing with me?!”

“I’m merely serving you,” she replied, her calm demeanor contrasting sharply with his icy glare.

“Is this how you serve everyone else?” His tone was sharp and demanding, laced with jealousy.

“No, no. I only set the table and leave. I’m not an escort, but for you, I want to serve you beyond that.”

He spoke with a frosty calm. “Serve me, but nothing more.” One leg crossed over the other, he leaned back, watching her carefully.

At the same moment Cleopatra caught the glimpse of his coldness but couldn't know if he was still angry at her about choosing Anthony or if he move on from her but she wouldn't budge and pressed forward

“Okay if you insist, your glass is empty I will pour you some wine”

She poured the wine into the glass and gave it to him intentionally, letting her hand brush against his. Their eyes met and like magnetic force not wanting to pull away from each other.

“How is work going? I know it's coming late to congratulate you for being the CEO of INK Model” her eyes still locked into his as says those words to him

Meanwhile, his eyes were glued to her pouty lips as she spoke, every word igniting something fierce within him. He swallowed hard, struggling to choke back the storm of desire and frustration swirling through his chest.

“Sure so now I’m finally getting congratulations, four years after becoming CEO,” he smirked, tossing his head aside with playful exasperation.

In an instant, she caught his hand with both of hers, pouting like a child as if silently pleading.

“I’m sorry for hurting you back then. I know there’s no excuse for how I behaved, but I’m truly sorry for everything.” Her eyes drooped, heavy with sorrow.

She knew Calvin had every reason to treat her coldly. After all, she had inflicted pain by pushing him away and letting Anthony take her choice.

“I know I was too foul-mouthed with you and with Anthony—”

The mere mention of Anthony sent fire through every fiber of his being, and he stopped her mid sentence

His voice dripped with fury. “Don’t you dare speak his name in front of me! Do you miss him so much that you have to say it right in my face?!”

His hand clasped hers with a force that made her heart skip. His jaw clenched, eyes burning like fire, and every fiber of his being radiated tension at the sound of that name.

She froze for a moment, then lightly patted his hand, her voice trembling. “No… no! I didn’t mean it that way,” she whispered, a soft sigh escaping her lips. “We… we didn’t even—”

Suddenly, the door flew open, and Smith strode in, cutting through the chaos outside. Every pair of eyes instantly turned toward him.

“Chairman! Miss Guinevere is here, she insists on being let in!”

Cleopatra knew exactly what all the fuss was about. “Let her in,” she commanded.

Smith turned to Calvin, eyes waiting for his orders.

“It’s alright. Do as she said,” he said, waving his hand.

Smith opened the door and ushered Guinevere inside, then stepped out of the room.

As Guinevere stepped inside, the sight struck her like a bolt of lightning. Cleopatra and Calvin sat dangerously close, drawn together like an unbreakable magnet and iron. Her heart plunged, sinking straight into her chest.

“Hi, Cleo. I’ve been trying to reach you on the phone, but you weren’t answering,” she said, walking in and intentionally attempting to seat herself between them.

Cleopatra reacted instantly, stopping her in her tracks and steering her away, firmly settling her into the chair opposite them.

“Guinevere, you really shouldn’t inconvenience a VIP,” Cleopatra said coolly. “Please, remain seated there.”

The words were smooth and polite, yet beneath them ran a sharp current of mockery, striking with quiet, precise force.

“What are you talking about? A VIP?” Guinevere scoffed. “It’s Calvin, he’s my CEO.”

Cleopatra paid no mind to Guinevere.

Her fingers grazed a grape as she lifted it from the bowl, eyes fixed on Calvin with a mischievous, almost daring intensity. Slowly, deliberately, she brought it to his lips, the space between them humming with unspoken tension.

“Open your mouth, Cal,” she purred, her voice dripping with sultry mischief. “Let me tempt you, let me treat you sweetly.”

Then, with a poised elegance, she turned her attention to Guinevere.

“He may be your CEO,” Cleopatra murmured, her eyes smoldering with a dangerous, irresistible allure, “but in my domain he’s mine.” Her smirk lingered, sharp and teasing, cutting through the air like a blade. “Isn’t it only proper to indulge my clients? After all, would it not be unbearably rude to interrupt?”

Calvin stood frozen, a storm of confusion and desire swirling within him as their words volleyed back and forth. Every glance, every subtle movement was etched into his mind, yet his lips remained sealed, his body still a silent observer caught in the electric tension between them.

Guinevere’s eyes widened in shock, stunned that Cleopatra could look her dead in the eye and speak such audacious words.

“Ah, right,” Guinevere said softly. “I suppose it wouldn’t be respectful to interfere with your work.” Her composure was strained, barely holding.

“Bingo!” Cleopatra’s voice rang out, her head tilting toward Calvin’s shoulder, slow and charged with an undeniable electricity.

“Indeed, escorts are always possessive of their clients, not just one,” Guinevere said, her eyes blazing as they locked onto Cleopatra’s.

“Can you really call your manager a model?” Cleopatra asked, her tone sharp and laced with challenge.

“Of course not!” Guinevere snapped.

"Good,” Cleopatra said, her tone laced with teasing disdain. “Seems your two brain cells are still managing to function.”

“You—”

Cleopatra cut her off sharply, her gaze unwavering.

“It’s the same here. There’s a difference between a server and an escort,” she said, her tone sharp and unwavering.

As anger surged through her, Guinevere snatched a glass of wine and downed it in a single, defiant gulp.

Another chime echoed through the room as Alvin burst in, carrying two cans.

“I apologize, Mr. Ink. We ran out of citrus freshener, so we rushed to get more,” he said, motioning as his staff placed the cans with meticulous precision. “I hope the service meets your standards. Please, inform me if anything displeases you.”

His sharp gaze sliced through the lingering tension in the room.

“Very well. Enjoy your evening,” he said, bowing gracefully before departing with his staff.

“You shouldn’t drink so much, do you want to ruin that flawless skin of yours?” Cleopatra’s voice dripped with playful scorn, her eyes flashing like sparks. “Honestly, bestie, I’m still on duty, I’ll get back to your call later.”

Cleopatra stepped closer, her voice a soft whisper. “You just go on ahead, alright?” She gently guided her toward the open space.

Guinevere grabbed her immediately, her voice trembling in a whisper. “What’s going on? Are you cool with Calvin now?”

“I don’t remember ever not being cool with him,” Cleopatra replied smoothly. “I’ve got work to do, bestie. Bye for now.”

She closed the door behind her and turned, striding toward Calvin with a bright, teasing smile.

“Aren’t you two supposed to be cool?” he asked, confusion flickering across his face.

You shouldn't concern yourself with her, okay?” Cleopatra murmured, stretching out her hand to caress his cheek.

After serving Calvin a few drinks, he rose, only for Cleopatra to stop him, holding out her phone.

“Please… please can you input your number?” she asked, eyes locked on him.

Calvin, masking his hesitation, muttered, “Sure,” and typed in his number before giving her a nod and a brief goodbye.

Stepping outside, he turned to Smith, “Settle the bills and meet me in the car.”

He left without a moment’s hesitation, his guards flanking him like shadows. Calvin slid into the car, and a few minutes later, Smith took the driver’s seat. Calvin’s gaze lingered on the call window, his hand folded beneath his chin, sharp and focused, until he finally broke the silence in a measured, commanding voice.

“Hire a skilled investigator. I want everything about Cleopatra uncovered, leave no stone unturned.”