Adaline POV:

Bradly and Janell clung to each other, a tableau of tragic lovers against the backdrop of the glittering gala. Their embrace was so tight, so suffocatingly intimate, it felt like the world had indeed shrunk to just the two of them. I watched, a stranger in my own life.

At one point, their lips met. A long, passionate kiss that seemed to defy the public setting, a kiss meant to wound, to assert, to claim. My stomach churned.

His arm wrapped around her waist, possessive. Her hand rested on his forearm, delicate, claiming. They looked more like a couple than Bradly and I ever had. More in love than Bradly and I could ever dream of being.

A few guests glanced our way, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and thinly veiled amusement. I could feel the whispers starting, like a slow burn.

"If that were me, I' d just die of shame," someone murmured, their voice a little too loud.

"Seriously. How thick-skinned can she be? Still standing there like a statue."

They were waiting for a show. They wanted the old Adaline, the one who would scream, cry, make a scene. The one who would confirm their cruel assumptions.

Bradly finally pulled away from Janell, his eyes, still heavy with desire, flickered to me. He let out a low, satisfied hum. He expected me to be shattered. He expected my usual hysterical outburst.

But I gave him nothing. No tears. No scream.

Just a blank stare.

He opened his mouth, probably to deliver another crushing blow, but I didn' t give him the chance. I turned on my heel and walked toward the exit. Each step was a deliberate act of defiance.

Outside, the cool night air was a balm on my heated skin. I pulled out my phone, my fingers fumbling slightly.

"James," I said into the receiver, my voice raw. "Come pick me up. Now."

While I waited, a sleek black car pulled up beside the curb, its tinted window sliding down with a soft whir. Bradly' s smug face appeared.

"Get in, Adaline," he ordered, his tone flat, leaving no room for argument.

My eyes drifted to the passenger seat. Janell. Her face was still flushed, her hair slightly disheveled, a sly smirk playing on her lips.

Bradly noticed my gaze. His brow furrowed. "You shouldn' t be in the passenger seat, Janell."

Janell' s eyes immediately welled up. "Oh, Bradly, I' m so sorry! I didn' t think… I' ll get out. I wouldn' t want to cause any trouble."

She made a show of reaching for the door handle, but her body remained stubbornly in place. Bradly gently took her hand, his thumb stroking her knuckles.

"Don' t you dare hurt her, Adaline," he warned, his eyes flashing at me. "Now get in the back. Or get lost."

I didn' t say a word. I just walked around to the back door, my hand still gripping the phone.

Seeing my silence, Janell' s smirk widened. She reached up, her delicate fingers caressing Bradly' s jawline. "Do you like the scent of my new hand cream, darling?" she purred, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness.

I heard Bradly swallow hard from where I stood. Their breathing grew heavy, uneven. Their eyes locked, a silent, intimate promise passing between them. Their faces drew closer.

Just as their lips were about to meet, a loud thud echoed in the quiet night.

Bradly' s head snapped towards the back seat. Empty.

He finally registered the sound he' d heard. The car door slamming shut. My car door. The one I had just closed.

He scrambled out of the car, his face contorted in a furious grimace. "Adaline! Where are you going?"

I stared at him for a moment, then gestured with my chin towards the sedan that had just pulled up, James already opening the back door for me.

"I don' t need a ride," I said, my voice flat. "That' s my car."

He looked at me, a flicker of something new in his eyes-confusion? This wasn' t my usual reaction. But then, it hardened into anger. He saw this as a new game. A new way to rebel.

He grabbed my arm, his grip bruising, and pulled a small velvet box from his pocket. He shoved the box into my hand.

"Stop this childish act, Adaline," he hissed, his voice tight with barely suppressed rage. "You' re my fiancée. Even for show, this makes me look like a fool."

I met his gaze, my own eyes cold. "Who is your real fiancée, Bradly?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. "Is it Janell?"

His expression wavered, a mixture of annoyance and… something like satisfaction. He let out a derisive snort.

"You' d better keep your mouth shut, Adaline. Janell is different from you. She' s kind. Docile. Pure. You could never compare." He spat the words, venom dripping from each syllable. "If you dare complain to the elders, or hurt her in any way, you' ll only humiliate yourself at the wedding."

I almost laughed. He didn' t want to be the bad guy. He just couldn' t give up Janell. So, it was easier to blame me. Always me.

I ignored him, yanked my arm free, and slid into my car. James pulled away smoothly, leaving Bradly standing fuming in the parking lot.

On the way home, my phone buzzed. A new social media update from Janell. Her hand, perfectly manicured, held up a sparkling pink diamond ring. It glowed in the dim light of the car. Ten carats, at least. I recognized it. The one auctioned off last month for a ridiculous sum. The anonymous buyer had been Bradly.

I looked at the small, insignificant diamond ring he had just shoved into my hand. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled it out. It was a cheap, mass-produced piece. A freebie, I realized with a jolt, likely given out with the purchase of the pink diamond.

My blood ran cold. The phone rang, startling me.

I checked the screen. Bradly.

I answered, putting it on speaker.

"Bradly, darling, what if Adaline tells everyone about us?" Janell' s voice, a little too loud, purred from the phone.

Bradly' s low chuckle filled the car. "She won' t. She can' t. And even if she did, who would believe her? You' re the only one for me, Janell. Adaline will never be my wife."

Then, a wet, smacking sound. A kiss. Disgust coiled in my stomach.

I hung up, my finger trembling.

Seconds later, a text message from Janell popped up.

The unloved one is always the third wheel, Adaline. You had your title for years. It' s my turn now.

Adaline POV:

Janell' s brazenness, her outright smugness, was a stark contrast to the subtle manipulations I remembered from my past life. Back then, she' d been a snake in the grass, whispering poison, acting the innocent victim. Now? She was practically screaming her victories from the rooftops. It made sense, then, why Bradly and Janell' s affair was such an open secret. Everyone knew. They just chose to ignore it.

My "memories" of that past life flashed before my eyes. A life where I, the naïve fool, had married Bradly, believing his empty promises. A life where I' d poured my heart and soul into his family' s failing company, transforming it into a titan of industry.

I remembered the elders' approving nods. "Adaline brings good fortune," they' d said, their voices warm, but their eyes always on the bottom line.

Their warmth had been my solace, even when Bradly' s indifference cut me. I' d found a strange kind of contentment in their approval, in building something, in believing I had a place. A purpose.

Until the day I opened the box.

The memory was still hazy, a nightmare on the edge of waking, but the betrayal was sharp. It was the moment all my illusions shattered.

A soft knock interrupted my thoughts. The door creaked open.

"Adaline, darling?" My mother' s voice was hesitant. "Garrison Fletcher is coming tonight. Your uncle."

I froze. Garrison. My uncle. In this life, soon to be my husband.

My mother caught my gaze, her mouth opening as if to say more, but she just sighed, a long, weary sound, and left. She couldn' t possibly know what I knew. Not really.

The elders, for all their kindness, were pragmatic. They liked me, yes, but their affection was tied to the prosperity I brought. Otherwise, they wouldn't have so readily covered for Bradly' s secrets in my previous life.

Garrison was the only exception.

In my last life, he' d lived abroad, a reclusive billionaire, never marrying. He' d always shown me genuine concern, even chastising Bradly on occasion. He was the only one who truly saw me.

And now, he was my ticket out. My choice. A far better choice than a complete stranger, or worse, repeating the nightmare with Bradly.

The idea had been planted in my mind shortly after I woke from the coma, after the raw, vivid "memories" of my ruined future flooded my consciousness. I had subtly floated the idea, a desperate gambit. I hadn' t expected it to work. After all, Garrison was powerful, respected. He wouldn' t agree to such a casual proposal.

But it had gone far more smoothly than I could have ever imagined. My mother had told me he' d paused, a brief, thoughtful silence, then agreed. Just like that.

The next morning, I arrived at the office, the air still thick with the lingering scent of last night' s humiliation, but my mind was set. I needed to finish the proposal. It was my wedding gift to Garrison.

My magnum opus. A proposal for the acquisition of the largest electronics company in the country. If successful, it would catapult his firm into the top three, globally. It was a project I' d poured countless hours into.

Originally, it had been for Bradly. Every intricate detail, every projected growth, tailored to his family' s business. Now, it had to be refashioned for Garrison. His company. His vision.

I' d spent sleepless nights hunched over my laptop, reshaping, refining, perfecting. Finally, it was done.

I rubbed my tired eyes, the ache a familiar companion, and headed downstairs for a much-needed coffee. The office was quiet, the early morning hours a sanctuary.

When I returned, a chill seized me. My laptop. The screen was on, but the folder containing my proposal was empty. Gone.

Panic flared, cold and sharp. I grabbed my phone, my fingers flying as I accessed the office security footage.

The figure on screen was cloaked in anonymity-a mask, a baseball cap pulled low. But then, a flash. The distinctive glimmer of a pink diamond ring on her finger.

Janell.

Rage, pure and unadulterated, coursed through me, making my hands tremble. My "memories" had painted her as sly, but never this openly destructive.

I stormed toward Janell' s office, my feet pounding against the carpet. The door was ajar.

I pushed it open.

Bradly sat perched on Janell' s desk, his arms wrapped around her. Their lips were still glistening from their hurried, hungry kiss as they pulled apart, a thin strand of saliva connecting them for a fleeting moment.

I didn' t care about propriety. I didn't care about their sordid display. I lunged forward, grabbing Janell' s wrist, my grip tight.

"Who the hell gave you permission to touch my computer?!" I demanded, my voice shaking with fury.

Bradly shoved me back, his eyes blazing. "Are you insane, Adaline?!"

Janell, the master of theatrics, dissolved into sobs, hiding behind Bradly. "Oh, Adaline," she sniffled, peeking out from behind his shoulder, her eyes wide and innocent. "I' m so, so sorry. I didn' t mean to delete it. I' ll make it up to you. I' ll even get on my knees if I have to."

She began to lower herself, her knees bending dramatically.

Bradly caught her, pulling her into a protective embrace. "What is wrong with you, Adaline?" he snarled, his eyes accusing.

"What' s wrong with me?" I shrieked, the last vestiges of my self-control burning away in a fiery inferno. "That was my wedding gift! To my fiancé!"

Bradly scoffed, a cold, derisive sound. "Am I not your fiancé? I appreciate the sentiment, but why are you making such a fuss over a simple proposal?"

My gaze fell on Janell' s laptop. The screen was still open, displaying a report she' d been working on.

I grabbed the nearest glass of water from her desk and, without a second thought, flung it across the room.

The water hit the laptop with a crackle. Smoke billowed from the keyboard, followed by a series of angry pops.

Janell shrieked, clutching Bradly' s arm. "My report! My report!"

I smirked, echoing Bradly' s earlier words. "It' s just a report, Janell. Why are you making such a fuss?"

Bradly stared at me, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. He' d been saying for days that something was different about me. Now, he knew it.

I turned to leave. He reached for my wrist, but Janell' s hand shot out, tugging at his sleeve.

"Bradly! My hand! It' s burning from the hot water!" she cried, a fresh wave of tears streaming down her face. "Go talk to Adaline. I' ll be fine."

Bradly hesitated for a second, his hand still outstretched towards me, before letting it fall.

"She did nothing wrong," he seethed, turning his fury on me. "You' re just petty, Adaline."

Adaline POV:

The destruction of my proposal, the careless, deliberate act of sabotage, finally extinguished the last ember of affection I might have secretly harbored for Bradly. It was a cold, hard finality.

I took a deep, shuddering breath, pushing down the surge of grief and anger. Tonight. Tonight was the night I would meet Garrison. My uncle. My future. And I needed to be ready.

A tremor of nerves ran through me. He was, in a way, still my uncle from my previous life, a distant, respected figure. This was all so… new. And terrifying.

I squared my shoulders. I would present myself with poise. Even if I couldn't make him fall in love with me instantly, I would at least ensure he didn't find me repulsive.

I finished my makeup, a mask of calm confidence, and left the office. Just as I reached the underground parking garage, a low moan echoed through the concrete cavern.

My head snapped up. There, in the dim light, was a black car, rocking rhythmically.

I recognized the license plate. Bradly' s.

Through the half-open window, I could see Janell. Her eyes were glazed over, her head lolling back and forth with Bradly' s thrusting movements. He was panting, his body a relentless rhythm against hers.

A wave of nausea washed over me. I felt nothing for Bradly, truly. No love, no jealousy. But the raw, animalistic display still disgusted me. It was crude. Uncouth.

Janell' s head turned. She saw me.

A slow, triumphant smirk spread across her face. Then, she seized Bradly' s head, pulling him into a deep, ravenous kiss. Her moans, thick and guttural, mingled with the wet sounds of their kiss, reverberating in the hollow space of the parking garage.

I fought the urge to vomit. My stomach roiled. I turned quickly, desperate to escape. My own car was waiting. I needed to get to the gathering. Now.

Just as I reached my car, a low groan, followed by a sigh, emanated from Bradly' s car. They were done.

They both emerged, Janell' s face still flushed.

"Adaline! Oh, my goodness, I didn' t see you there!" she chirped, her voice falsely sweet.

Bradly' s eyes, when he heard my name, showed a flicker of embarrassment. But it was fleeting.

I didn' t stop. Didn' t pause. I just got into my car and drove. As I passed them, my gaze accidentally dropped. Bradly' s belt. A scrap of lace, a delicate pair of underwear, dangled from it. Janell' s, no doubt. The disgust solidified into a hard, cold knot in my chest.

I made a quick stop at a shopping center, picking out gifts for the family elders. Something tasteful, a gesture of respect. And for Garrison, something special. A quiet acknowledgment of the path ahead.

When I arrived at the family estate, Bradly was waiting by the door. He strode toward me, a curious mixture of apology and defensiveness on his face. He opened his mouth, but then his eyes landed on the gift box in my hand. His expression shifted, from strained to a satisfied, arrogant sneer.

"So, you went shopping for me, did you?" he asked, a smug glint in his eye. "Good. You' re finally acting sensible."

He reached for the box. I quickly stepped back, blocking his path.

"These aren' t for you," I said, my voice flat.

He lit a cigarette, exhaling slowly. "You saw, didn' t you?" he said, his voice casual, almost bored. "Janell. She' s my wife, you know. My real wife. All of this… it was always meant for her."

He took another drag, then his eyes met mine, dripping with condescension. "If you' d been more obedient, maybe I would have been generous enough to spend a few nights with you after the wedding."

His gaze lingered on me, a lecherous glint in his eyes. Goosebumps rose on my arms. It was utterly repulsive.

I turned to walk away, but his hand shot out, gripping my arm.

"Garrison is coming tonight," he reminded me, his brow furrowed. "Don' t cause any trouble. After dinner, go see Janell and apologize. If you want this wedding to happen, you' ll behave."

He released me, turning on his heel before I could respond, disappearing into the house.

I watched his retreating back, a cold, humorless laugh bubbling in my throat. Soon, he would know exactly whether our wedding would happen.

I walked into the dining room. The elders were already seated, a smattering of polite conversation filling the air. Garrison, however, was nowhere to be seen.

There was an empty seat beside Bradly. I ignored it, walking past him. My destination was a seat near the head of the table, usually reserved for the most respected family members. I sat.

Bradly, seeing my audacious move, stomped over, his face red with annoyance.

"Adaline!" he hissed, pulling out the chair next to mine and sitting down. "That seat is for Garrison! Get back to our assigned seats before you embarrass us further!"

I took a deep breath, trying to tamp down my irritation. I opened my mouth to explain this wasn't his wedding.

But before I could speak, a deep voice, rich and resonant, cut through the quiet.

"My apologies for being late."