The beeping was the first thing she heard. A steady, rhythmic pulse that matched the throbbing in her neck. The smell of antiseptic filled her nose again.

Adriana opened her eyes. White ceiling. Hospital.

She reached up, her fingers brushing against the thick gauze wrapped around her throat. She was alive. Again.

She turned her head on the pillow. A figure was slumped in the chair beside the bed, red hair spilling over the armrest.

Janna.

Adriana's breath hitched. She looked so young. Her skin was fresh, her face relaxed in sleep. She wasn't bruised. She wasn't broken.

"Janna," Adriana whispered, the word scraping past her sore throat.

Janna jerked awake, her eyes flying open. When she saw Adriana looking at her, she gasped, leaning forward to grab her hand. "Oh my god, Adriana. You're awake. Are you in pain? Should I call the nurse?"

Tears spilled down Adriana's cheeks. She squeezed Janna's hand, holding on like it was a lifeline. "You're here. You're real."

"Of course I'm real," Janna said, her brow furrowed with concern. "I've been here all night. You scared me to death. Why would you do that?"

Before Adriana could answer, the door was thrown open. It hit the wall with a bang, making Janna jump.

Hector and Dolores Guzman strode into the room. They looked impeccable, dressed in designer clothes, their faces set in matching expressions of fury.

"What were you thinking?" Dolores demanded, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. "Do you have any idea the damage control we've had to do? The press is circling like sharks!"

Hector stood at the foot of the bed, his arms crossed over his chest. "Mills called us. He was furious. Do you want to destroy this family? Is that your goal?"

Not a single question about her health. Not a single glance at the bandages on her neck.

In the past, this would have gutted her. She would have begged for their approval, cried for their attention. But now, looking at their cold, calculating faces, all she felt was a chilling clarity.

"I'm tired," Adriana said, her voice flat. "I want to rest."

"Rest?" Dolores scoffed. "You try to kill yourself over a man, and you want to rest? You will fix this, Adriana. You will apologize to Everette, and you will make him believe it."

Adriana looked at her mother. The woman who had sold her to the highest bidder. She knew that fighting them head-on would only bring more pain. She needed to be smart.

She let her shoulders slump. She lowered her eyes, letting her face crumple into an expression of defeat. A tear rolled down her cheek, perfectly placed.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I panicked. I was so scared. I didn't mean to ruin everything."

Dolores blinked, clearly surprised by the quick surrender. Hector's frown lessened slightly.

"I'll apologize to him," Adriana continued, keeping her voice meek. "I'll tell him it was a mistake. I just need a little time to recover. Please, don't be mad at me."

Hector nodded, satisfied. "See that you do. The Mills connection is everything. Don't mess this up again."

Dolores patted her leg stiffly. "Get well soon. We have a reputation to maintain."

They walked out, leaving the door open behind them.

Janna stared at her, wide-eyed. "Adriana... are you okay? You just agreed to-"

Adriana looked up, meeting Janna's eyes. The meekness was gone. In its place was a cold, hard determination that made Janna go silent.

"I'm not apologizing," Adriana said quietly. "I'm surviving."

She closed her eyes, her mind already racing. She needed money. Her trust fund was controlled by her parents, but her grandmother's was different. She had access to that on her terms.

She needed to protect Janna. She couldn't let her friend fall into the trap that was Troy Boggs.

And she needed to get as far away from Everette Mills as humanly possible. This time, she wasn't going to just die. She was going to disappear.

The door clicked shut, and the oppressive atmosphere left with her parents. Adriana let out a long breath, her body sinking back into the mattress.

Janna handed her a cup of water, her hand trembling slightly. "You scared me. The way you talked to them... it was like you were a different person."

Adriana took a sip, the cool water soothing her raw throat. She looked at Janna, really looked at her. In the other timeline, Janna had been beaten black and blue by Troy Boggs. She had been a shadow of herself, terrified and broken.

The memory was a knife in Adriana's chest. She couldn't let that happen again.

She set the cup down and reached out, grabbing both of Janna's hands. Her grip was tight, almost painful.

"Janna, listen to me," Adriana said, her voice low and intense. "This is important."

Janna blinked, startled by the intensity. "What is it?"

"You need to break up with Troy Boggs. Today. Right now."

Janna's face flushed. She tried to pull her hands back, but Adriana held on. "Why are you bringing him up? Troy loves me. He's just stressed."

"He's stressed?" Adriana repeated, her voice hard. "Is that what he calls it? I see the way he looks at you when other guys are around. He doesn't look at you like a partner, Janna. He looks at you like property."

Janna went pale. "How... how could you say that?"

"Because I have eyes, Janna," Adriana said, leaning closer. "He checks your phone, he tells you what to wear, he isolates you from your friends. That is not love. That is a cage. And that cracked phone screen last week... you told me you dropped it, but did you, Janna? Did you really?"

Janna looked away, her bottom lip trembling. "He said he was sorry. He bought me that necklace..."

"A necklace is an apology for a mistake," Adriana said fiercely. "It's not a license to do it again. Janna, he is going to hurt you. I know it in my bones."

Tears welled in Janna's eyes. "You don't know him like I do."

"I know that you deserve better," Adriana said, her voice cracking. She let go of Janna's hands and cupped her friend's face, forcing Janna to look at her. "You are the best person I know. You are smart and kind and you do not need a man to validate you. I cannot lose you to someone like him."

Janna stared at her, the fight draining out of her. She saw the desperation in Adriana's eyes, the raw fear, and it scared her more than Troy ever had.

"I'll try," Janna whispered. "I'll talk to him."

"No," Adriana said firmly. "You don't talk to him. You tell him it's over, and then you block him. If he comes near you, you call me. If he threatens you, you call the police. Promise me."

Janna swallowed hard, then nodded. "I promise."

Adriana let out a breath, her shoulders dropping. It wasn't a guarantee, but it was a start. She had planted the seed.

"Good," Adriana said. She reached for the phone on the nightstand. "Now, I need you to do me a favor. Hand me my bag."

Janna grabbed the designer tote from the chair and handed it over. Adriana dug through it until she found her phone. She plugged it into the charger, waiting for the screen to light up.

It booted up, and instantly, it buzzed with notifications. Missed calls from her mother. Texts from her father. And dozens of messages from Everette.

She didn't read them. She deleted them all without a second glance.

Then she scrolled through her contacts until she found the number for her grandmother's personal assistant.

"Who are you calling?" Janna asked.

"Someone who can help me get out of here," Adriana said. The line connected. "Hello? It's Adriana Guzman. I need to access my trust fund. All of it. I need you to start the process immediately."

The doctor stood in the doorway, his arms crossed, his expression stern. "Ms. Guzman, I cannot discharge you. Your blood loss was significant, and your psychological evaluation-"

"I am signing myself out against medical advice," Adriana said, pulling the IV line out of her hand for the second time in this life. A small drop of blood welled up, but she ignored it, pressing a cotton ball to the spot. "Give me the forms."

"Adriana," Janna said, hovering by the bed. "Maybe you should stay one more night."

"No." Adriana swung her legs over the side of the bed. She was wearing the clothes Janna had brought her: simple black pants and a cashmere sweater. The collar of the sweater hid the bandages on her neck.

She stood up, her legs steady. The dizziness was there, but she pushed through it. She didn't have time to be weak.

She signed the forms with a flourish, ignoring the doctor's disapproving stare. She grabbed her bag and walked out of the room, her heels clicking on the linoleum.

The sunlight outside was blinding. It was a beautiful, crisp morning, the kind of day that felt like a fresh start. But all Adriana felt was the chill in the air.

"Where are we going?" Janna asked, following her to the curb.

"You're going home," Adriana said, pulling out her phone. "Remember what I said. Stay away from Troy."

"But what about you?" Janna grabbed her arm. "You can't just go back to the hotel. Everette is looking for you."

"I'm not going to the hotel," Adriana said. She opened the Uber app and typed in an address. "I'm going to Long Island."

Janna's eyes widened. "The Mills Estate? Are you insane?"

"Probably," Adriana said. A black SUV pulled up to the curb. The driver rolled down the window. "But I have to finish this."

She climbed into the back seat before Janna could argue. She closed the door, shutting out her friend's worried face.

The car pulled away from the hospital, merging onto the expressway. Adriana watched the city skyline give way to the leafy suburbs of Long Island. Her heart was beating fast, but her mind was clear.

Her phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number.

Emergency trust liquidation authorized. Funds will be available within 24 hours. Awaiting your final instructions.

Five million dollars. Her grandmother had come through. It was her inheritance, the money that was supposed to be for her wedding. It was enough to start over. Enough to disappear.

The car turned onto the private road leading to the Mills Estate. The wrought-iron gates stood open, a silent invitation to the gilded cage. The house loomed at the end of the drive, a massive stone mansion that looked more like a museum than a home.

Adriana paid the driver and stepped out. The air smelled like cut grass and money. She walked up the steps to the front door.

The butler opened it before she could knock. His face was a perfect mask of professional calm, but his only sign of surprise was a fractional hesitation before he stepped back, his voice a low, even murmur. "Miss Guzman."

"Where is he?" Adriana asked, her voice leaving no room for small talk. "Where is Everette Mills?"

The butler hesitated. "Mr. Mills is in his study."

"Good," Adriana said. She didn't wait for an invitation. She stepped past him and walked into the grand foyer. Her heels echoed on the marble floor, a steady, rhythmic sound that matched her heartbeat.

She walked down the long hallway, her eyes straight ahead. She didn't look at the family portraits on the walls. She didn't look at the fresh flowers that cost more than most people's rent.

She was here for one reason. To burn the bridge to the ground.

She reached the study doors. They were heavy oak, carved with the Mills family crest. They were slightly ajar.

She raised her hand to push them open, but a voice from inside stopped her.

"You can't be serious, sir." It was Graham Fletcher, Everette's head of security. His voice was tight with panic.

Adriana froze, her hand hovering in the air. She leaned closer to the crack in the door.