The welcome party was held at the Lucchese club in Manhattan. From the outside, it looked like an abandoned theater. Inside, it was filled with New York's most respectable criminals: politicians, lawyers, dock bosses, bankers, and every ally Damian needed to keep his throne.

In five years, he had never thrown a public dinner for me. Serena came home, and he gave her the whole city as an audience.

She entered on Damian's arm, wearing the Lucchese obsidian pendant at her throat. It was the symbol of the Godfather's wife. Five years ago, Damian told me it was too dangerous to wear in public and locked it in a safe. He had never put it on me.

Now it rested against Serena's collarbone.

Whispers moved through the crowd.

"So she's the real one."

"The Godfather kept the wife hidden for five years because he was waiting for the younger Vega daughter."

"We'd better start calling her Mrs. Lucchese."

My parents stood in the middle of the room, smiling with a pride I had never received from them. Years ago, when they tried to brag about my marriage, Damian warned them to stop. They lost face because of me, so they hated me even more. Tonight, Serena was finally giving them the glory they wanted.

Damian raised his glass. "Serena has been away from New York for too long. From tonight on, she remains the jewel of the Vega family and someone the Lucchese Family will protect."

Applause thundered through the club.

Serena took the microphone with tears in her eyes. "The person I want to thank most is my sister. Eve carried so much for me, and she has always been willing to give me the best of everything. Without her, I wouldn't be here today."

Every face turned toward me.

I stood behind a pillar on the second-floor balcony and lifted my glass.

"Welcome home."

The calmer I was, the more disappointed Serena looked.

The gifts came next. My father gave her a yacht. My mother fastened our grandmother's sapphire necklace around her neck, the necklace that should have gone to the eldest daughter.

At last, Damian's underboss wheeled out a black velvet case. Inside was the deed to the San Lorenzo Winery in Tuscany. It was not just a vineyard. It was the cleanest public face of the Lucchese fortune.

Serena threw herself into Damian's arms and cried right on cue.

The room cheered.

When it was my turn, I asked a waiter to bring over a narrow mahogany box.

"A welcome-home gift."

Inside, there should have been a ruby bracelet. It was the first thing Damian had given me after our wedding, and I no longer wanted it.

Serena opened the box in front of everyone.

The bracelet was gone.

On the velvet lay a bloodstained silver bullet, pinned beneath a black card with one sentence written on it: Impostor. Pay what you owe.

The hall went dead silent. Then someone screamed.

Serena stumbled back with a hand on her stomach, her face bone-white. "Eve, why would you scare me like this? I only wanted to come home."

My father slammed his glass down. "Eve! She is your sister!"

My mother rushed in front of Serena, sobbing as if I had put a knife to her throat. "You can't stand that people love her. You can't stand that Damian cares about her, so you had to ruin her night."

I looked at Serena. She was crying in Damian's arms, but for half a second, the corner of her mouth lifted.

I understood.

She didn't just want my place. She wanted to make sure I could never come back from this.

"Someone switched the box," I said.

My voice vanished under the noise.

Damian held Serena close and looked at me as if I were staring down the barrel of his gun.

"Eve, I thought you at least had a line you wouldn't cross."

I tried to explain, but one of the Lucchese guards shoved through the crowd. In the chaos, he moved as if he were protecting Serena, then slammed his shoulder straight into mine.

I fell backward and struck the champagne tower. Glass burst across the floor. A shard opened my calf, and the edge of the table drove into my lower stomach so hard that pain shot up my spine.

Someone gasped. "She's bleeding."

Damian looked back at me.

Only once.

Serena cried against his chest. "Damian, my stomach hurts."

So he turned away, lifted her in his arms, and left. The doctors, guards, and his underboss followed him out.

I slid to the floor, one hand braced against the table leg, while my mother's voice cut through the room.

"Karma. That's what this is."

In my last life, it had been snow.

In this life, it was blood.

As long as Serena was there, they would always leave me behind.

A stranger from the party took me to St. Anne's Hospital. The Lucchese Family controlled the place, but when the nurse pushed me into the emergency room, it was almost empty.

She made three calls. With each one, her face grew paler. "The trauma surgeon and the head of obstetrics were called to the top floor. Miss Serena was frightened, so the Godfather wants a full examination."

Blood seeped from my leg into the sheets. Pain tightened low in my stomach again and again.

I caught the nurse's wrist. "Don't let them know I'm pregnant. Save my baby."

She froze, then nodded with red eyes.

Before I passed out, I thought I heard Damian's voice at the end of the hall.

"Where is she?"

Someone answered, "Sir, Miss Serena is still waiting for you."

His footsteps stopped for one second, then moved away.

When I woke up, two days had passed. The nurse told me that if I had arrived ten minutes later, the baby would have been gone.

There were no missed calls from Damian. No message. Not even a question.

Only two new alerts waited inside my encrypted app.

The first was a video. In the garage, Serena opened my gift box, removed the ruby bracelet, and replaced it with the bloodstained bullet and the black card. Then she leaned close to a Lucchese guard and gave him an order. When the party fell into chaos, that same guard deliberately drove his shoulder into me.

The second file was an investigation. Five years ago, Serena had not run because she feared marriage. She had stolen the Vega ledger and eloped with the heir of a rival family. Now she was pregnant with that man's child, abandoned, and back in New York because she needed Damian's name to cover the scandal.

The last message read: The private plane is ready. Passport, new identity, and offshore accounts are in place. Say the word, and you leave on the wedding day.

I replied: As planned.

That evening, Serena sent me an invitation. Groom: Damian Lucchese. Bride: Serena Vega.

On the back, in her looping handwriting, she had written: Eve, Damian promised me the grandest wedding in New York. You have to come. After hiding as Mrs. Lucchese for five years, you should see with your own eyes which woman he truly can't let go of.

I read it once and dropped it into the trash.

She had no idea that from the moment I died in that snowstorm, I had stopped waiting for Damian to turn around.

The next day, Damian came.

He stood beside my bed with faint red lines in his eyes, as if he had not slept for nights. Yet the first thing he said was, "You still won't apologize to Serena?"

I looked at him quietly.

"She was terrified," he said. "The doctors said she can't handle any more stress. You're her sister. Is it really so hard to lower your head once?"

"So the wedding is my apology?" I asked.

"It's not a real wedding. It's a show, something decent for her to stand on. You're still my wife. That won't change."

I almost laughed. His signature was already on the divorce papers. He simply didn't know it yet.

At last, he seemed to remember I was injured. His brows drew together. "How's your leg?"

"Fine."

"You always do this. It hurts, and you say you're fine. You're wronged, and you say you're fine. Eve, what the hell do you want from me?"

In my last life, I had wanted him to claim me, to defend me in front of my parents, to choose me over Serena just once.

Now I wanted nothing.

"You don't have to do anything," I said.

"Show up on the wedding day. Once the ceremony is over, I'll make her move out. Your place won't change."

"All right."

He froze, as if all the comfort he had prepared got stuck in his throat.

His underboss knocked outside the door. "Sir, Miss Serena fainted during the gown fitting."

Damian rose at once. "Eve, don't disappoint me again."

The door closed.

I opened the encrypted chat.

[Pick me up at the North Hill helipad on the wedding day.]

The reply came at once: [Confirmed.]

On the day of the wedding, snow covered the private chapel of St. Michael's. Serena walked toward the altar in a priceless gown, holding my father's arm. Damian stood before the priest with the silver wolf badge on his chest, his face colder than the storm outside.

I sat in the last row, closest to the door.

As the priest began the vows, I looked down at my phone. The blue dot that marked the helicopter had already stopped at North Hill.

My father placed Serena's hand in Damian's. "I'm giving you my most precious daughter."

Damian did not take it right away. His gaze moved over the guests and suddenly landed on me.

It was as if he had finally noticed how quiet I had been all day.

Serena whispered, "Damian?"

I stood and slipped out through the side door.

The wind outside was brutal. I walked down the old stone steps toward the helipad. Behind me, another helicopter roared over the chapel. Black envelopes spilled from the sky like some obscene version of snow.

Inside every envelope was a copy of the signed divorce page, screenshots of Serena switching the gift box, and proof that she ordered the guard to hurt me.

The chapel erupted.

I shut off the feed.

A silver-gray helicopter waited in the snow with its rotors already turning. My lawyer stood by the open door and held out his hand.

"Ma'am, it's time to go."

I stepped inside. Before the door closed, I looked down at the chapel one last time. Serena was clutching Damian's hand, and the priest's voice broke apart in the wind.

"Damian Lucchese, do you take..."

The helicopter lifted off.

The roar swallowed whatever answer he gave. I didn't want to hear it anyway.

I lowered my head and placed my hand over my stomach.

In my last life, I died on a snowy night while they rushed toward their perfect reunion.

In this life, I would take my child and fly toward a dawn that belonged to us.