In my past life, I was stripped bare, my body offered as an antidote to the drug that ravaged the man I loved, my adopted brother, Khalid Carver.
Later, we married. But on our wedding night, an assassination attempt left him crippled.
I thought my love could heal his wounds, all of them.
But in the safe house by the lake, as a raging fire engulfed us, I rushed in to save him, only for him to shatter my skull with a whiskey bottle.
Before darkness consumed me, I heard his cold voice accuse my father and me of destroying his happiness. He declared he was giving all the family's territory to Sloane. We, the ghosts of a fallen house, could all go to hell together.
Khalid's whisper was a devil's curse in my ear: "You destroyed everything for me. We can burn to ash together!"
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1
I awoke to Khalid Carver's labored, restless gasps.
I opened my eyes to the familiar bedroom in the Carver manor, a room that bore no trace of a wedding.
I had been reborn. The shock and dizzying second chance sent my head spinning.
"Cassia, come to my room."
Khalid's low, hoarse voice from the adjacent room sent a tremor of pure fear through me.
A glance at my watch sent a cold sweat prickling down my spine.
I was reborn on the very night Khalid was drugged.
The thought sparked a single, frantic urge: run. Get as far away from Khalid as I possibly could.
But before my feet were even in my slippers, he materialized in my doorway.
"Cassia, I've already called Sloane. I need you to go pick her up. Now."
Even through the haze of drug-fueled lust, I saw the wariness and loathing in his eyes.
A chilling thought crystalized in my mind.
Khalid had been reborn, too.
I gave a hasty nod, grabbing my car keys and striding past him toward the door.
As I left the manor, I could feel Khalid’s piercing gaze burning into my back.
The address Khalid gave me was for an apartment near his company.
So, he and Sloane Petrov were already living together? It was true, then. I had ruined his happiness.
When Sloane saw my car, she yanked open the passenger door and slid inside.
"How's Khalid?"
She looked anxious, but I could have sworn her eyes flickered with a greedy excitement.
"You'll see when we get there."
I had no desire to speak to her. It wasn't jealousy—neither my mother nor I had ever cared for her.
Sloane was the daughter of a Soldato, and she’d clawed her way into high society only through the Carver family's sponsorship.
At first, my parents were polite enough. She was hardworking, ambitious, and a master at wearing a pleasant mask.
She was a graduate of a prestigious university in the city. My parents had even driven her to campus themselves on her first day.
Mother, pleased, thought Sloane, being a year my senior, could guide me in social circles. Sloane took her role seriously, reporting my every move to my father after each party.
She kept reporting to him, even after I’d made it clear that my mother orchestrated my entire social calendar.
I always sensed a sharp, calculating edge behind her pleasantries, but I dismissed it as paranoia.
This continued until one night, during a clash with a rival family, she panicked. She tearfully called my father. When he rushed over, she threw herself into his arms. He went pale, snatching his hands back as if he’d touched a hot stove.
Mother parked nearby, walking over just in time to see the whole sordid display.
Sloane tearfully explained she just saw my father as a father figure and had acted out of sheer terror.
My parents placated Sloane, but the private wings of the manor were closed to her from then on. Father also ceased handling her affairs personally.
After graduation, she wanted a position in the family's legitimate businesses. She arrived at our home bearing gifts, pitifully begging my parents for a chance.
Mother, a master of social graces, had her assistant arrange a cushy job for Sloane.
Before leaving, Sloane came to say her goodbyes and ran into Khalid, who had just returned from handling business in Europe.
The next day, Sloane turned down the position. She declared that after much consideration, she had decided to start from the bottom to prove her own worth.
Sloane stood there in her simple clothes, a determined look on her face. Khalid, about to leave, saw the exchange and was visibly impressed.
A month later, Sloane joined the Carver Group as Khalid's assistant.
I warned Khalid that Sloane's motives weren't pure, that she was playing an angle to get close to him.
His only reply was, "Cassia, not everyone lives in an ivory tower like you."
But in less than a year, he had moved her into his apartment.
On the highway, I pushed the car faster and faster. Sloane gripped the door handle, her knuckles turning white.
"Cassia, even if you're upset, you need to keep your eyes on the road."
Sloane entered the manor. I didn't follow. I stayed in the car, staring blankly into the darkness.
I knew better than anyone what was about to happen between Khalid and Sloane.
I wasn't jealous.
My brutal death in a past life had dragged my parents to ruin. It made me realize my love for Khalid wasn't a weakness—it was the poison that destroyed us all.
Sloane's words in the car had hammered that point home.
"Cassia, he's your brother in name only. Your twisted feelings for him drove him to Europe. Now he has me. It's time for you to let go."
So, Khalid had known all along. He fled to Europe to escape me.
If I had known that, I never would have watched him writhe in agony, begging for relief, and offered myself to him by untying the ribbons of my nightgown.
Before Sloane got out of the car, she had one last thing to say. "You're a grown woman. It's time you found a suitable man and settled down."
She must have been worried I’d interfere. But I no longer had any feelings for him.
I sat in the car all night. Only when the first hint of dawn painted the sky did I finally open the door and go inside.
Khalid came downstairs in a bathrobe. "Where were you last night?"
A fresh bite mark on his neck—Sloane's, undoubtedly. His voice was a low, satisfied rasp.
I replied, "I went to see Maya."
Maya Russo was my best friend. Khalid knew her.
He still cared. Maybe he’d let go of his resentment. A flicker of hope ignited in me that we could go back to being simply brother and sister.
"I know you look down on Sloane, that you think her background makes her beneath you. But let me be clear: she's the woman I want. From now on, you will show her respect."
When had I ever looked down on her background? The confusion must have been written all over my face.
"Don't be so arrogant. She risked herself to clean up your mess."
I was even more lost.
"What are you talking about?"
Khalid's patience snapped.
"Don't play dumb… You drugged me last night, didn't you? Sloane is innocent. She wanted to give me her first time, and you ruined it."
"I didn't!" I retorted.
It was true, I had loved Khalid for years, but I would never use such a despicable method and tarnish the family honor.
Khalid said, "Sloane and I had dinner out, then we came back here. The only thing I drank was the glass of wine you always leave in my study. It couldn't have been anyone else."
In my past life, I’d wondered why he never investigated who drugged him. I’d assumed he was set up and was too ashamed to speak of it.
In that moment, I understood. He thought it was me. No wonder he hated me.
He hated me enough to drag my parents down with him into the flames.
He hated me so much that he wouldn't even let the child we conceived exist in this world.
Bitterness rose in my throat, and my eyes stung.
"Believe what you want, but I didn't do it. I swear it wasn't me."
Just then, the door to Khalid's room creaked open. Sloane appeared, wrapped in one of his shirts, looking like a frightened rabbit. "Khalid, is Cassia mad at me?"
Khalid shot me a wary glance. "Cassia's not mad. She's only going to wish us well."
"Khalid's right, Sloane," I said, a saccharine smile on my lips. "You were there for him when he needed someone. I'll speak to my father and the Capos, make sure they approve of this relationship."
A flicker of triumph crossed Sloane's face. Khalid's gaze, however, remained sharp with suspicion.
