Tony Gambino never forgave me. His childhood sweetheart died saving my life, and for seven years, his hatred was a constant, silent burn.

I fasted. I prayed. I begged for absolution.

He met my penance with a cold sneer. "I'll only forgive you when you're dead."

The words were a knife to the heart. So why, when we were both poisoned, did he shove the only antidote down my throat?

As the poison claimed him, blood trickling from his lips, he choked out his last words, "Scarlett... in our next life, let's never meet."

Later, I tried to visit his grave. His sworn brother and Consigliere, Richard Bruno, blocked my path. He pressed a gun to my forehead.

"I don't know how you have the nerve to show your face here, Scarlett. He'd be alive if he hadn't saved you.

"I should never have let him give up Elma for you. You're a curse. Everyone who gets close to you gets destroyed."

Their eyes were unanimous in their blame. And they were right.

So I watched his gravesite from a distance, my own guilt a heavier stone than any marker.

Not long after, I was killed in a gang crossfire.

When I opened my eyes, I was seven years in the past. This time, I made a different choice: I let Tony go—so that everyone might live.

A familiar voice drifted into my consciousness as my eyes fluttered open.

"Scarlett, once you're elected Capo, I will honor my family's promise and marry you."

My vision cleared. Tony Gambino stood before me, dressed in a white shirt with the top buttons carelessly undone, exuding a casual sensuality. His gaze wasn't cold this time—just faintly mocking.

The sight of him made my breath catch, a familiar ache burning behind my eyes.

I had been reborn. Not to the beginning, but to this pivotal moment: the day I became a candidate for Capo.

In my past life, Tony's parents decreed that whichever of us—Elma Russo or I—became a capo first would became Tony's wife.

I won. I married the man I loved. And we spent a lifetime tearing each other apart. Because the woman he truly loved had always been Elma—his childhood sweetheart, not me.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and lifted my head, my voice quiet but steady.

"Tony... the woman you actually want to marry is Elma, isn't it?"

He went still. His eyes narrowed, sharp and assessing. "How did you know that?"

He recovered quickly, a mask of cool indifference falling back into place. "It doesn't matter. With your skills, you'll win the election. You'll be Capo."

I held his gaze. "There has to be another way."

He let out a short, derisive laugh. "What's this, a new tactic to get my attention? Save it. Just focus on planning the wedding you've always wanted."

As he turned, his back straight and unyielding, a wave of bitterness washed over me.

This was the man I had loved with my whole heart for years.

He had risked his life for me, more than once. I'd deluded myself into believing he loved me too, that he was just too proud to say it. Even his closest friend, Richard Bruno, had told me, "Tony's harsh words don't mean anything. He's soft on the inside. If he didn't care for you, why would he keep saving your life?"

I had believed them. I had believed in him. I walked down the aisle filled with hope.

But when Elma died, I finally understood the truth. He had never loved me at all.

His final words—"In the next life, I never want to meet you again"—were a blade I would carry in my heart forever.

Now, with this second chance, I decided to honor that wish. He had saved me enough for one lifetime. I only hoped he would live longer this time. And perhaps... I could finally see what my life could be without him in it.

On the official candidate form for Capo, I signed my name in the box marked Voluntary Withdrawal.

This time, I would give him what he truly wanted. I would let Elma become his bride.

When I stepped outside, Tony was leaning against the doorframe.

"Let's go," he said. "To the clerk's office. Let's get the marriage license."

I didn't move. I offered him a soft, enigmatic smile.

"There's no rush. The final competition hasn't even begun. No one knows who will win in the end."

His gaze sharpened, studying me as if I were a stranger. "Scarlett, have you lost your mind?"

I met his scrutinizing look with unwavering calm. "Tony, you'll get what you want."

He gave a short, cold snort and walked away without another word.

On my way back, I overheard a young couple chatting excitedly on the street.

"They say if newlyweds kiss under the Eiffel Tower, they'll be together forever."

"When we get married, let's go!"

"Yeah—we'll be happy for the rest of our lives."

I watched them pass, a faint, wistful smile on my lips. I felt a pang of envy.

In my past life, I had clung to that same dream. I had begged Tony to take me to Paris.

But he had just looked at me with that quiet mockery. "Is there even love between us? What difference would Paris make? Our relationship is a business arrangement. What exactly are you expecting?"

So this time, I let go of all expectations.

But then Tony stopped mid-stride. He glanced at my face, perhaps catching that flicker of longing, and said, his tone awkward, almost grudging, "After the engagement ceremony, I can take you there. But a lavish wedding is out of the question. The family is too busy."

I looked up at Tony, startled. I hadn't expected him to be the one to suggest it.

Something tight in my chest loosened its grip.

He had always been a good man at his core—why else would he have thrown himself in harm's way for me, over and over, in our past life?

The first time, I was seventeen, kidnapped by a rival faction. Tony came for me. They severed the tendons in his hand. He never regained full strength in it.

The second time, a fire. He shoved me clear of a collapsing beam, taking the full impact. Several broken ribs, second-degree burns across his back. I walked away with barely a scratch.

The third time, a gang shootout. A bullet meant for me tore through his shoulder. He nearly bled out that night.

The fourth time, he bankrupted a rival corporation. They took me hostage in retaliation. Their price for my release was for him to stab himself. He didn't hesitate.

How do you stop loving a man who has saved you like that? A man who, time and again, valued your life over his own?

When I didn't answer, his voice grew sharp with impatience. "Scarlett? If you don't want to go—"

"Alright," I interrupted softly. "After the election is over. I'd like that."

My easy agreement seemed to throw him off balance.

"I'll have someone take you home. Focus on preparing for tomorrow." He changed the subject, the words clipped. Then his phone rang. His brow furrowed deeply, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the device.

"It's Elma," he said after a moment. "She's sprained her ankle. I need to go. Someone will drive you."

"Go ahead," I urged, my voice carefully neutral.

He blinked, studying me. "You're different today. You used to make a scene whenever I went to see Elma."

I opened my mouth to explain, but the knowing look in his eyes stopped me.

"Oh, I see," he said, a dry, cynical edge to his voice. "You're so confident you'll win the election and become my wife that Elma doesn't seem like a threat anymore." He waved a dismissive hand, already turning away. "Forget it. Someone will be here for you shortly."

He didn't see the quiet sorrow on my face, or the finality settling in my heart. He had no idea that the Elma he was rushing to wasn't the woman he believed her to be.

Once, while out shopping with my sister, I'd seen Elma in a shadowy alley, entangled with the Don of a rival family. My sister had been livid, ready to confront her on the spot, but I held her back.

Later, my own investigations revealed Elma had been involved with several other Dons from opposing factions.

From that moment on, I had done everything in my power to keep Tony away from her.

He never knew. In his eyes, Elma was still that pure, radiant girl—an untarnished camellia.

I watched him disappear, then drew a steadying breath. My decision was firm: I would apply to study abroad as soon as possible.

His bodyguard drove me back to the Gambino estate.

Mrs. Gambino's face brightened when I entered. "Scarlett, you're here! Where's Tony?"

"He had an urgent matter to attend to," I said lightly.

She frowned. "You two are about to be married. How can he still be so consumed by work? Marriage is a commitment—he can't treat it so casually."

Mr. Gambino offered a conciliatory chuckle. "Ambition in a young man isn't a bad thing. Come, let's eat."

I took a silent, deep breath. Before I could second-guess myself, I spoke. "Mr. and Mrs. Gambino... I've withdrawn from the election. I'm preparing to study overseas. I'll be leaving soon."

I met their stunned gazes. "Tony and I aren't right for each other. He already has someone he loves. I want to step aside."

They both froze.

"Scarlett," Mrs. Gambino began, her voice laced with confusion and concern, "you've always loved Tony. And becoming Capo has always been your dream. Why give up now? Did he do something? Or is this because of Elma?"

Mr. Gambino sighed, his tone gentler, persuasive. "Scarlett, you know how Tony is. He might be harsh with his words, but look at his actions. He's risked his life for you, more than once. You, of all people, should know what that means."

I had heard those exact words before—in my last life, from so many people. I had believed them then.

And it led to nothing but ruin.

"Mr. and Mrs. Gambino, please understand," I said, my voice soft but firm. "This isn't a whim. I had a dream—so vivid it felt like a memory. In it, after Tony married me, he was miserable. Elma died in an accident, and he blamed me. He grew to hate me. No matter what I did, it only pushed him further away. He told me the greatest regret of his life was our marriage."

I paused, steadying myself. "I can't bear to see him live that life. I won't make that mistake again."

Mrs. Gambino reached for my hands, her expression deeply troubled. "Scarlett, it was just a dream. To throw away your future because of it... it's such a waste."

I swallowed hard, fighting back the tears. "It didn't feel like just a dream."

Mr. Gambino let out a long, weary sigh. "Very well. If your mind is made up, we will respect your decision. If you do not wish to marry him, you will not be forced."

I stepped forward and gently embraced Mrs. Gambino.

"Tony doesn't love me," I whispered. "He saved me because that's who he is—a good, selfless man. But in my dream, he died at thirty, saving me one last time. I'm terrified that future is real. I don't care who he marries; I just want him to live a long, happy life."

I managed a faint, sad smile. "Even if I can't be your daughter-in-law, I can still be like a daughter to you. I'll study hard overseas, and when I return, I'll stand by Tony's side as his ally. I will still help him build the family's legacy. That part hasn't changed."

Mrs. Gambino's eyes welled up. She pulled me into a tight hug, her voice thick with emotion. "Oh, my dear girl... you have such a good heart."

Perhaps this was enough to free Tony from the burden of me. Once he married Elma, the debt between us would be settled. The ledger would finally be clear.

That night, I stood alone on the balcony, gazing at the stars. I wondered if the sky over Paris looked the same. Two lifetimes, and I'd never made it there. When this was all over, I would go. I would see it for myself. No more regrets.

The sound of the door crashing open shattered the silence. I turned, a reflexive, hopeful smile touching my lips. "Tony? You're back?"

His voice was a lash of pure venom. "Scarlett! Elma called you for help! Why did you ignore her? She's been taken by Nico, the arms dealer! Are you satisfied now?"

I stood frozen, my blood running cold.

In my past life, Elma and I were kidnapped together. She took a bullet for me. But this time... she was taken alone.

The butterfly effect. My choices were already rewriting fate.

If I could save Elma now, perhaps I could erase Tony's regret forever.

I met his furious gaze. "Do you truly believe I would do that on purpose?"

"I don't care about your intentions!" he snarled. "The fact is, you didn't answer, and now she might die because of it!" His voice rose to a roar. "If anything happens to Elma, I will hate you for the rest of my life."

His words should have shattered me. The girl I was seven years ago would have screamed and wept, begging him to see the truth. But that girl was gone. He had hated me until his dying breath once before. Now, I just felt a vast, hollow emptiness.

"Tony," I said, my voice unnervingly calm. "Don't worry. I won't let anything happen to her. I will bring her back."

He let out a sharp, derisive laugh. "You? How could you possibly save her?"

Ignoring his scorn, I turned to my laptop, my fingers flying across the keys as I hacked into Elma's phone signal, triangulating her location.

A moment later, a video call window flashed on my screen. Nico's face appeared; Elma was bound and gagged behind him.

"Tony!" she sobbed. "Please, help me!"

I sent the coordinates to Tony's phone and slipped out into the night before he could stop me.

When I reached Nico's compound, I located the main power conduit and cut it. The villa plunged into darkness.

I moved like a ghost through the shadows until I found Elma. She flinched violently at my touch.

"Don't make a sound," I whispered, working at her ropes. "I'm getting you out."

But panic overtook her. She let out a piercing scream.

Shouts echoed through the house. The staccato burst of gunfire filled the air as I hauled Elma toward the nearest exit.

We stumbled into the courtyard just as Tony and his men arrived.

His eyes locked onto Elma, the raw fear in them a stark contrast to the hatred he'd shown me hours before.

"LOOK OUT!" he yelled.

I spun around. Nico stood in the doorway, his pistol aimed directly at Elma's back.

There was no time to think. I shoved her out of the way with all my strength.

And the bullet meant for her tore into me instead.