When Antonio’s childhood sweetheart, Astrid, once again publicly cut off a lock of my hair at a party, I didn’t douse her with a bottle of champagne like I did in my past life. I just calmly removed the thirty-carat yellow diamond, our engagement necklace, from my neck and placed it around hers.

"He's yours now," I said softly. "Have fun, you two."

This time was different because I had already died once. In my past life, I had furiously broken off our engagement, only for him to use his power to blacklist me, which ended with me dying in a car crash out of sheer desperation. And my biological father, a tech mogul at the top of his field, didn’t even find my body until a day later.

This time, I refused to repeat my mistakes.

I swore I would be done with Antonio for good.

————————

1

I didn't expect him to follow me.

"Scarlett, Astrid didn't mean it. She's just childish—she loves cruel pranks."

"Look, Astrid’s father died in prison covering for my family’s financial scandal. His dying wish was for me to take care of her. I know she's spoiled, but you're my fiancée. Can't you let a small thing like this go?"

In New York's high society, having your hair forcibly cut was a profound public insult. It was never a "small thing."

In my past life, Antonio had said the exact same words.

Back then, already seething over the lock of hair, his defense of Astrid sent me over the edge. I had ripped off my diamond ring in front of everyone, announced our engagement was over, and stormed out.

I’d once believed my dignity was worth more than my life.

But then I endured the humiliation of a broken engagement, dragging my suitcase through the winter night until my arms ached and trembled. Antonio never sent anyone for me. Instead, at a press conference the next day, he branded me "ungrateful and disloyal." The city's elite conspired to ostracize me, and I was dragged into a suffocating vortex of social ruin.

The irony was staggering.

A bitter smile touched my lips.

Antonio’s expression hardened. "What's that look for? I've told you a thousand times—since her father's death, Astrid is like a sister to me. Don't you get any funny ideas."

"It's a lock of hair, not your whole head. You're the future lady of this house. Start acting like it."

I saw the ice in his eyes.

A sharp pain twisted in my chest, a poisoned dagger straight through the heart.

But the pain wasn't for him. It was for the fool I’d been in my past life—the girl who had given him her all.

In that life, after society blacklisted me and my career imploded—after I went bankrupt and had to sell the apartment my adoptive mother left me—a loan shark cornered me. He threatened to make me disappear from New York if I didn't pay up.

I huddled on the floor of a grimy motel, trembling, my fingers still clutching the engagement ring Antonio had given me. He'd presented it to me when we first went public, swearing before God that his wealth, his status, would one day be mine, that I would be his only wife.

So, on the verge of death, I swallowed my tears and made one last call.

But when I dragged myself to him for help, all he said was:

"Scarlett, you finally realize you were wrong? Too late. Our engagement is over. Your problems have nothing to do with me."

The loan shark's threats echoed in my ears. I coughed up blood, my body convulsing.

In my last moment of consciousness, I saw a news report on his engagement to Astrid—the tender look in his eyes had once been reserved for me.

The ring slipped from my grasp.

Only then did I understand. I was never his one and only.

I buried the memories deep and said calmly, "Antonio, I don't have any funny ideas about you and her."

"Don't worry. I know Astrid is young. She was just playing. I'm not mad. I'm just… tired."

A flicker of surprise crossed Antonio's face.

I didn't spare him another glance. I just turned and headed for my apartment on the Upper East Side.

After I died, my soul floated over my own body.

That’s when I learned the truth: I was the only daughter of tech mogul Maximilian Sterling. A childhood kidnapping had stolen my memories and my name.

In this life, as I opened my eyes, those memories were slowly returning—and with them, the certainty that my father was still searching for me.

I pulled out a newly purchased burner phone and dialed the head of security at Sterling Industries.

"Hello. I need to speak with Mr. Maximilian Sterling."

In this life, I wasn't going to be some neglected high-society fiancée. I just wanted to be a daughter again. My father's daughter.

I had just hung up when Antonio burst in, his face a mask of impatience.

"Scarlett, what game are you playing now?"

"I've made myself clear. So why are you still jealous of Astrid? Why are you giving me the silent treatment?"

I kept my voice even. "Antonio, I'm not jealous. And I'm not giving you the silent treatment."

"See? I even kept the lock of hair she cut. I wouldn't dream of holding it against her."

He clearly hadn't expected that. For a moment, he just stared.

He was about to say more, but a call from Astrid pulled his attention away.

I locked the door behind him and squeezed my eyes shut.

Late that night, my burner phone buzzed.

Astrid had sent photos. Antonio, bare-chested, leaning against her by the penthouse pool. There were angry red scratches clawed across his shoulder.

Then came the taunt:

"So what if you're marrying him, Scarlett? Antonio comes running when I call. If you're smart, you'll give up your title as the future Mrs. Vanderwood."

This wasn't the first time Astrid had tried this. But it was the first time I'd replied.

"Got it. He's all yours."

I just wanted to find my father.

I wouldn't make the same mistake twice—clinging to Antonio’s love like a lifeline.

I blocked her number and tried to sleep.

But when I closed my eyes, memories of my past life flooded my mind.

Antonio had once saved me from a sleazy investor. I fell for him, hard and fast.

But with my unknown background, I was just another designer. He was the heir to an old-money New York real estate empire. We were worlds apart, and he was always surrounded by a flock of beautiful socialites.

So, the night before my birthday, I left him a letter saying I was leaving New York.

But Antonio—the man who was always so composed—sent a dozen private investigators and his best people after me.

When he found me, his eyes were bloodshot. I'd never seen him so vulnerable. He gripped my hand and whispered:

"I love you, Scarlett. Please, don't leave me."

That one sentence shattered all my defenses. I stood on my toes and kissed him.

From then on, we were inseparable.

He would buy white roses and wait for me before every date.

He remembered every little thing I liked and commissioned handmade jewelry just for me.

Even though I was just an "ordinary" designer, he defied his family and the world to make me his fiancée.

At our engagement party, he placed the ring on my finger in front of all of high society, a faint blush warming his cheeks.

That night, he held me tight and whispered it over and over:

"I swear to God—nothing is more important than you. If anything ever happened to you, I couldn't live. You are my one and only love."

But somewhere along the way, everything changed.

He got busier. Had less time. We went from seeing each other daily, to weekly, to monthly.

Even without Astrid, we were already falling apart.

But I couldn't let go. I couldn’t give up on those years of affection.

So I fought. Again and again. Until my life became a living nightmare.

A single tear escaped the corner of my eye.

When I opened my eyes again, it was dawn. The pillow was damp.

Antonio called.

"The Vanderwood annual charity gala is in seven days. Be ready."

Seven days. In my past life, that was when my father's private investigator had tried to reach me.

I died in a car crash the day before.

As a wandering soul, I watched my father clutch my cold body, roaring at the lawyers surrounding him:

"I will sue every single person who hurt my daughter until they are bankrupt! They will pay for what they did to her!"

Then he used the full might of his corporation to crush the Vanderwood Group and strip Antonio of everything.

A pang of pain shot through me. I kept my voice level.

"High society never wanted me as Mrs. Vanderwood. Astrid—a proper socialite—is a much better fit. Let her go in my place."

I was serious. But Antonio erupted.

"The charity gala is a serious affair, Scarlett. Can you stop making everything about you for once?"

A bitter ache bloomed in my chest. So this is what it feels like when love dies.

Before, if I’d said something like that, he would have pulled me into his arms and coaxed me out of my mood.

Now, he just thought I was being difficult.

From the other end of the line, Astrid's voice cooed, "Antonio, what's wrong? You sound upset."

His tone softened instantly. "It's nothing. Did I wake you?"

I let out a sharp, humorless laugh and ended the call.

For the next few days, Antonio left me alone.

But the housekeeper let slip that Astrid had taken ill, and Antonio had been by her side constantly.

On the day of the charity gala, I returned to the penthouse.

I hurled everything that reminded me of Antonio into the fireplace—including the engagement ring I once cherished above all else.

As I turned to leave, I remembered: my adoptive mother's heart-shaped box was still in the study.

I headed for the study. Just as I reached the door, I heard Astrid’s voice on a video call with two men I didn’t recognize.

"Astrid, you have to find a way to trick Antonio into revealing the location of the financial records. It's the only way we can move against the Vanderwood Group."

I froze. Astrid was a corporate spy?

Astrid smiled, her voice dripping with confidence. "Don't worry. Antonio is wrapped around my little finger. One word from me, and he'd drop that pathetic designer in a heartbeat."

"Once I'm the lady of the Vanderwood Group, those financial secrets are as good as mine."

I almost laughed out loud.

Antonio’s coddling had made her so bold she was plotting his downfall in his own study.

I shoved the door open and strode inside. "If you want him to break off our engagement, Astrid, you'd better learn to beg."

The color drained from her face, but she recovered quickly. "What are you doing here? Antonio said no one is allowed in his study but me!"

I met her gaze and gestured to the two men on her screen. "Is that so? Then who are they?"

Her eyes darted nervously. "I don't know what you're talking about."

I nodded, turning as if to leave. "You don't? Fine. Let’s go ask Antonio what he thinks about you plotting with men from Aperture Dynamics in his private study."

Astrid’s composure finally cracked. She lunged, grabbing my wrist and shoving me hard.

"Antonio is in a board meeting. You're not going anywhere!"

The small of my back slammed into the sharp corner of the desk. Cold sweat prickled on my temples.

"Even if you tell him, he won't believe you!"

Her shrill voice pierced my ears, igniting the fury I had been bottling up.

I slapped her. Hard.

"That's for shoving me."

I glanced down at the burner phone in my hand.

Of course Antonio wouldn't believe my word against hers. That's why I'd hit 'record' the second I heard her voice.

Spoiled by Antonio for years, Astrid had never faced a real consequence. The slap stunned her, a trickle of blood blooming at the corner of her lip.

When she recovered, she let out a nails-on-a-chalkboard shriek.

"You trashy designer! You hit me! I'm telling Antonio!"

Just then, a familiar, cold voice echoed from the doorway.