"Mr. Stanley, I can assure you—both my daughters are extraordinary. They'd make the perfect wives for your grandsons. You'll see—once the marriages are settled, you'll realize this is the best decision you've ever made!" A voice Gracie Sullivan knew all too well echoed in her mind—warm, eager, and shamelessly proud. Her eyes flew open, her breath hitching sharply in her throat. She was supposed to have died—she remembered the dizzying fall from the eighteenth floor, the rush of wind, and the crushing impact. So how on earth was she here again, inside her family's estate? The living room spread out before her, immaculate as ever. Sunlight streamed through the high skylight, scattering golden warmth over gleaming floors. A delicate fragrance—jasmine, maybe lilies—drifted faintly in the air. It suddenly all came flooding back to her. Today marked the arrival of Kevin Stanley, who came with a bold proposal: to weave their families together through two marriages. She'd chosen his younger grandson, Theo Stanley—a decision that opened the door to a darkness that would one day claim her life. Yet now, as she awoke into the familiarity of the scene, a chilling thought struck her—had she been reborn? If fate was offering a second chance, she'd rewrite every choice. No longer would she play the fool; every person who had hurt her would pay their price in full. The Stanley family stood unchallenged at the summit, their empire woven through the very fabric of the city. To marry into their family was a dream many dared to chase. Still, the Stanleys had chosen the Sullivans because decades earlier, Gracie's grandfather, Danny Sullivan, had served alongside Kevin in the army. Danny had once saved Kevin's life, and in gratitude, Kevin had sworn a debt of honor: their lines would be joined one day by marriage. When the grandchildren came of age, the Stanleys were honor-bound to make a formal proposal, regardless of the outcome. By then, the Sullivan family's fortunes had dwindled, so the proposal felt like a blessing they couldn't afford to reject. A shadow crossed Gracie's eyes. In her previous life, her younger half-sister, Ellie Sullivan, had made her choice first—snaring Brayden Stanley, heir to the family's powerful conglomerate. Becoming Brayden's wife had meant stepping straight into a world of luxury and influence. However, his heart already belonged elsewhere, and marrying a Sullivan daughter was nothing more than a dutiful nod to his families' wishes. Once the vows were exchanged, he kept Ellie at arm's length. In public, they played the part of a perfect couple, but behind closed doors, their lives barely touched. Too proud to accept being second to anyone, Ellie lashed out in secret at the woman he truly loved—scheming, striking, and pushing him step by step toward tragedy. Her cruelty eventually shattered him, both physically and spiritually. and her own end came soon after, dying in childbirth. Gracie slowly lifted her chin, her eyes meeting Theo's with quiet resolve. He blinked in mild surprise before curving his lips into a gentle smile. Every inch of him exuded poise and cultivated grace—the very picture of a man impossible not to admire. Even so, a chill swept through Gracie as dread clawed at her spine; she knew too well the ruthlessness concealed behind his polished demeanor. Fragments of her previous life came rushing back, draining the color from her face. She instinctively lowered her eyes, unwilling to meet his. "What would you say to this, Mr. Sullivan: we let the girls choose whom they wish to marry?" Kevin let out a hearty laugh. Alan Sullivan, Gracie's father, joined in with an easy chuckle. "Great idea." Gracie kept her head bowed, digging her fingernails deep into her palms to keep herself focused. Her father would never turn down a union with the Stanleys; neither she nor Ellie had any say in it. "Dad!" Ellie's voice broke the moment's silence. "I choose Theo." Gracie's breath caught. That wasn't how things had gone in her past life. Why had Ellie's choice changed this time? Jane Sullivan, Ellie's mother, shot her daughter a sharp look, her voice low but cutting. "Think carefully before you speak." Brayden stood to inherit the vast Stanley fortune, while Theo—brilliant as he was—had no taste for business. What kind of future could a marriage to him bring? "I'll choose Theo." Ellie rose gracefully, her smile bright and confident as she met Theo's eyes. Theo's lips curved faintly in return, though his gaze lingered on Gracie for a fleeting moment before he turned away. A frown touched Alan's lips. He didn't approve of her choice, but he could deny her nothing, so he stayed silent. "What about you, Gracie?" he asked. Drawing in a steadying breath, Gracie lifted her eyes and slowly extended a finger toward Brayden. His expression stayed glacial; he gave her a fleeting glance before shifting his gaze elsewhere. As her hand dropped to her side, the weight of someone's amused stare brushed her skin like ice. A tremor ran through her. She forced down the lump in her throat, her pulse quickening. The rest of the conversation faded into a blur—words slipping past her like wind. Her thoughts spiraled inward. Maybe this second chance at life was nothing more than a cruel illusion? But the sting of her nails digging into her palm told her it wasn't a dream at all. When their talk concluded, everyone drifted toward the dining room. The Stanleys made their excuses shortly after dinner. Theo lingered for a polite farewell, his voice mellow and magnetic, his gaze holding a quiet charm. Brayden, on the other hand, offered neither Gracie nor Ellie a glance—he simply turned and strode out. Once Theo's attention shifted away, tension drained from Gracie's body, and she exhaled a long breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Rising from her seat, she made her way back to her room. As she passed the study, faint voices reached her ears—a conversation she hadn't meant to overhear. "Have you lost your mind? Why would you pick Theo? With Brayden in the picture, Theo doesn't stand a chance of taking over the Stanley empire!" Jane snapped at Ellie, her voice edged with irritation. Ellie and Gracie shared the same father but not the same mother—Gracie's mother had passed away a year before Alan remarried. Jane had entered the household soon after, bringing her daughter, Ellie, along with her. It was no secret Alan had betrayed Gracie's mother, and for years afterward, Gracie existed in her own house like an unwelcome visitor. "Mom, you don't get it!" Ellie's voice cut through from the hall, tight with frustration. "Brayden is in love with someone else. He only agreed to this arrangement because he had no other choice. No matter what I do, he won't even look at me." Jane snapped back, her tone sharp and anxious, "But if you marry Theo, you're handing all that prestige straight to Gracie!" Ellie let out a brittle laugh. "Please. What makes her worthy of that? Brayden's heart belongs to another woman. Gracie couldn't compete even if she wanted to. Even if she married him, her quiet nature would never capture his affection. Theo, on the other hand, was thoughtful—gentle in speech, steady in manner, and utterly devoted once he cared for someone. And truth be told, the successor of the Stanley empire was far from decided." Lowering her gaze, Gracie pushed the door open and leaned lightly against the frame. Her eyes drifted to her wrist, smooth, flawless, without a single scar. A hideous scar had once marred that spot in her past life. Theo was devoted? Ellie couldn't have been more wrong. In truth, that man was cold, manipulative, and disturbingly adept at twisting people's minds. Everything he had gained before had been built upon Gracie's torment. She swore that in this life, no one would ever hurt her the same way again.

The next morning, Gracie and Ellie set out with neatly wrapped gifts to visit the Stanleys. The lunch proceeded with flawless harmony—every gesture was polished and every word perfectly measured. When the dishes were cleared, Valeria Stanley, the mother of Theo and Brayden, offered a gentle smile. "You're both so sweet. No need to stay cooped up with us all afternoon. Since you're all here, why don't you youngsters go out and enjoy yourselves for a while?" Her suggestion drew easy agreement, and Gracie rose from her seat, smoothing her skirt before following the others out. Moments later, the dining room stood deserted. "Gracie." The low timbre of Brayden's voice broke the quiet. He had appeared beside Gracie without warning, his expression unreadable. "Come with me." Before she got a word out, he had already turned and strode off. Left with no choice, she hurried after him, her heels clicking softly as they entered the study. The door clicked shut behind him, the muted sound slicing straight through her composure. In an instant, she was yanked back into the horrors of her past life. Each time Theo lost patience with her defiance, he would haul her into a room, drop his mask of gentleness, and unleash his cruelty—his belt striking again and again until her skin burned and welted. The phantom sting still haunted her, sharp enough to steal her breath. A tremor coursed through her body as she instinctively retreated a step, her pulse hammering in her ears. Brayden caught her startled reaction and halted, keeping a measured distance between them. "Relax," he said evenly. "I'm not going to touch you. Some conversations are simply better held in private." Gracie drew in a quiet breath and steadied herself, her fingers curling into a tight fist. "I get it," she murmured. Even now, she hadn't completely escaped the fear Theo had carved into her. Pulling her thoughts together, she studied Brayden's composed face before her. In her previous life, their paths had only crossed twice—once during the engagement arranged between the two families, and again after his devastating car accident, when he was left scarred and confined to a wheelchair. She had only glimpsed him from a distance back then. Unlike the broken, humiliated man he had become in her past life, this version of Brayden still carried the sharp confidence of a man untouched by downfall. Standing a solid six-foot-three, his slicked-back hair caught the light, and the dark shirt clinging to his frame highlighted his broad shoulders. Rolled-up sleeves revealed lean, powerful forearms that spoke of strength and control. "What do you want?" Gracie murmured, her eyes dropping instinctively. A chill prickled her skin as it struck her—if someone like him ever chose violence, she'd have no way to fight back. Brayden moved toward the desk, his stride steady and unhurried. He pulled out a document, dropped it onto the surface, and said flatly, "Let's set things straight. I may have agreed to this marriage, but there's no affection between us." Gracie already knew there was someone else in his heart. "I take it you're agreeing to this marriage only because you have to." Brayden nudged the document toward her with a composed, almost detached air. "Before this marriage is dissolved, I expect you to honor the terms in the agreement. In public, we'll act the part of a devoted couple. Behind closed doors, I won't touch you or meddle in your affairs. The same courtesy should go both ways—you stay out of mine." Gracie lifted her head, a flicker of urgency in her voice. "Wait—seriously?" Something about her reaction felt off. Brayden arched a brow, amusement glinting faintly in his eyes. "You sound almost eager." "Not at all." Her teeth caught her lower lip as she snatched up the agreement and began to read through it carefully. The clauses were concise and impartial, spelling out the expectations and limits of their arranged marriage in stark, practical terms. She didn't object. Her hand hovered over the agreement, pen poised to sign, but she hesitated at the last second. Brayden's brow furrowed. "What's wrong? Something unclear?" Her gaze lifted to his. "If I continue my research after we're married, you won't interfere, will you?" A faint, knowing smile touched his lips. "Naturally not. Our lives stay separate." Before she could respond, his phone buzzed. He answered, his tone shifting instantly—low, gentle, almost tender. "No need to stress. I'll have someone sent over right away. Just wrapping things up here—I'll be on my way shortly." The warmth in his voice was nothing like the distant tone he used with Gracie, revealing just how much the other person meant to him. Feeling oddly at peace, Gracie picked up the pen and swiftly signed her name. When Brayden ended the call and turned back, he noticed her signature already in place. A faint nod followed. "Appreciate it." Two copies of the agreement lay on the desk; she gathered hers and quietly slipped it into her purse. With everything finalized, Brayden made no move to linger. He gathered the signed agreement, tucked it neatly away, and pushed the door open for her. Stepping out of the study, Gracie noticed the hallway was quiet—Theo and Ellie were nowhere in sight. "It looks like they've gone off somewhere," Brayden said, his tone measured. "How are you planning to get back? Should I have a car sent for you?" He stood a few paces away, his posture courteous yet detached. The polite distance between them felt deliberate—he'd been upfront from the beginning, setting clear lines neither of them were meant to cross. Oddly, that restraint made Gracie's shoulders relax. For the first time that day, she felt she could breathe a little easier. Having endured Theo's psychological games and suffocating control in her past life, she yearned for someone steady like Brayden. With him, she could sever her family's hold on her and focus on her research in peace. Once their marriage ran its course, she'd finally be free to live as she pleased. "There's no need." Her tone was calm but distant. "I'll call a cab myself. Thanks anyway." Brayden inclined his head in acknowledgment, his expression unreadable, and walked away without another word. Gracie refused the butler's polite offer to send for a car and chose to leave on her own. Crossing the garden, she slowed when faint voices drifted through the trimmed hedges. "Relax, Ellie. I'm nothing like Brayden. He might be marrying out of obligation, but my feelings for you are real." Theo's voice sliced through the still air. Gracie stiffened on instinct, her breath catching in her throat. A familiar chill crept down her spine—she had never stopped fearing him. She froze where she stood, afraid even to draw a breath. Between the shifting leaves, she could see Theo's tender smile as he clasped a delicate necklace around Ellie's neck. "Here, let me help you with this," he murmured softly. Ellie's cheeks flushed, her voice light and shy. "All right." But because she faced away, she never noticed the flicker of cruelty that cut through his eyes like a blade. Alan's obvious favoritism had already marked her as the future of the family business. To Theo, that simply made Ellie the perfect pawn in his own play for power. Gracie, meanwhile, lived quietly in her own world, the kind of introverted scholar who spent most of her days tucked away in a lab. Ellie traced her fingers along the delicate necklace at her throat, a faint smile tugging at her lips. In her past life, she had married Brayden with hope, convinced that affection could blossom from duty—that someday, they would be happy together. Instead, their marriage had been nothing but a cold contract. Each misguided choice had pulled her deeper into ruin, until the end came—alone, in the delivery room, her life fading with the child she never got to hold. This time, she picked Theo—the man who seemed quite gentle. When the wedding day came, she vowed to eclipse Gracie in every way. "The night's getting late. Let me take you home," Theo murmured, his eyes soft as he smiled. "Alright." Ellie slipped her hand into his without hesitation, her heart swelling with satisfaction. From the opposite path, the pair departed together. Concealed beneath the dim canopy of trees, Gracie's legs nearly buckled, and she braced a trembling hand against the rough stone beside her. When her pulse finally steadied, she straightened and walked toward the entrance. There, Theo was holding the car door open with his usual polished grace, waiting as Ellie stepped in with a radiant smile. Through the tinted window, Ellie glanced back—her eyes glinting with smug delight, a sly smirk curling her lips as she savored the sight of Gracie's pale, wounded face. She assumed Gracie had Brayden's signed agreement by now. Happiness wasn't something meant for her—not in this lifetime. Watching the car fade into the distance, Gracie felt nothing but a quiet, exhausted relief. This time around, whatever bound her to Theo had finally come to an end.

Time slipped away, and the wedding day loomed ever closer. After the engagement, Ellie and Theo plunged headfirst into a whirlwind of romance—dinners under candlelight, long drives through the city, and an extravagant Valentine's celebration. Meanwhile, Gracie hadn't heard from Brayden since that last, measured conversation in his study. She'd buried herself in research instead, finding solace in the quiet hum of her laboratory. After several rounds of negotiation, the two families agreed to host both weddings on the same day—a grand double ceremony designed to dazzle society. The night before the wedding, a pristine white gown and a box of glittering accessories arrived at Gracie's door, all carefully prepared and sent by Brayden's assistant. As promised, Brayden maintained the façade in public, presenting her with all the poise and reverence her title demanded. "Ms. Sullivan," Charlie Willis, the assistant, said with a respectful nod. "This is a bespoke haute couture gown Mr. Brayden Stanley commissioned three months ago. And these are rare blue diamonds, handcrafted by a master jeweler from a centuries-old atelier and personally selected by him." The gown shimmered under the light, the necklace catching glimmers like captured starlight. Gracie merely curved her lips into a serene smile. "Thank you," she said softly, her tone calm, unshaken by the grandeur before her. Brayden's earnestness couldn't be denied. As long as she upheld their agreement, she figured, he would keep his end of the bargain. Once Charlie left, Gracie turned back and found Ellie lingering in the living room. "Impressive, isn't it?" Ellie said with a faint edge of envy glinting in her eyes. "Marrying Brayden definitely puts you above the rest." Recalling all that Ellie had done in her previous life, Gracie saw no point in engaging with someone so small-minded. Her voice remained calm and cool. "You and Theo seem to get along well. I doubt he'll cut corners. Every detail of the gown and accessories must be selected with thoughtful precision." In their previous life, Theo had hidden behind a flawless façade, revealing his true nature only three months after their marriage. Before that wedding, the gown and jewelry he'd arranged for her, while modest compared to what Brayden had given her in this life, were still of respectable quality. Even so, Gracie's calm remark cut deep into Ellie's pride. Theo had reasoned that since both weddings were to be held on the same day—and Brayden was the family heir—it wouldn't be proper for theirs to appear more extravagant. Though Ellie's gown and accessories were elegant enough, beside Gracie's dazzling ensemble, they seemed dull and inferior. "Feeling proud of yourself, are you?" Ellie curled her lips into a spiteful smile, her eyes gleaming darkly. "Don't get too cozy." In their previous life, she had destroyed Brayden, leaving him scarred and crippled. Now, she convinced herself that with Theo's love, she could lift him to the position of heir. Gracie gave only a mild nod, unwilling to waste another word, and brushed past Ellie with quiet grace. At four in the morning, the makeup team showed up. Gracie and Ellie were assigned to separate rooms to get ready. Having spent the entire night absorbed in her research, Gracie had barely caught an hour of sleep. Even as the stylist unpacked her brushes and palettes, her own thoughts lingered on a single line of data looping in her mind. "That's strange," the makeup artist muttered, frowning as she twisted open a tube. "This lipstick looks off. Could it be expired?" "Doubtful," the assistant stammered, her tone edged with unease. "I think it's just how it is. We're running out of time—let's use a different shade for her instead." The makeup artist, unconcerned, reached for another tube and leaned closer to Gracie's lips. "Hold on," Gracie interjected, lifting a hand to stop her. "Let me take a look at that lipstick first." Her gaze shifted toward the assistant, and for a split second, she caught the flicker of panic flashing across her face. The makeup artist passed the lipstick to Gracie. "It does look odd, but maybe that's just how this brand is. Good thing we've got a few backups." The assistant added quickly, "Right, we'll save this one in case we need to touch up during the ceremony." Gracie lowered her eyes, uncapped the lipstick, and studied the smooth surface. She lifted it closer, inhaled lightly, and a faint smile ghosted across her lips. The scent gave it away—it contained peanut powder. And she was allergic to peanuts. No one but Ellie would be this malicious. Gracie couldn't imagine anyone else going to such lengths. Ellie had always favored such petty tricks, even in their previous life. Gracie's lips curved in a knowing smile as she handed the lipstick back, then beckoned the makeup artist closer with a single, elegant gesture. Bending slightly, the artist listened while Gracie murmured something under her breath. The assistant hovered uneasily, straining to catch their words but hearing nothing. A moment later, the makeup artist's face changed subtly, and she nodded with quiet resolve. "Got it." When the final touches of makeup were done, the bridesmaids entered the room in a flurry of satin and perfume. Gracie had only one—Jessie Holt, her lifelong best friend and partner in mischief. Jessie leaned close, her eyes gleaming as she whispered, "Everything's set, just like you wanted. But seriously, how did you guess Lia would pull that stunt? Are you sure she's even coming to the wedding?" Brayden's heart had always belonged to Lia Douglas. In their previous life, Ellie had gone after Lia time and again, desperate to claim Brayden for herself. In the end, she'd even joined forces with his enemy to orchestrate a trap that left him grievously injured—his once-sharp features scarred, his powerful frame bound to a wheelchair. Lia, the woman he had nearly died protecting, stayed by his side for three months. But when she saw he could no longer serve her ambitions, she walked away without looking back. "I can't say for certain," Gracie murmured, her lips curving into a serene smile. "But it never hurts to be prepared." In their previous life, Lia had barged into the wedding and turned the crowd's sympathy against Ellie. Jessie gave a thoughtful nod. "You're right. Even if your marriage to Brayden is just a contract and you're not coming between them, Lia might still take it personally. Better to stay alert." Gracie had confided in Jessie for a reason—because in that other lifetime, Jessie had died protecting her from Theo's rage. Gracie had made up her mind—this time, she wouldn't let anything happen to her friend. Soon, the brides and grooms made their way to the grand ceremony hall. At the entrance, the four of them paused—Gracie and Brayden standing at the forefront, poised and elegant, while Ellie and Theo followed just a step behind. When the doors finally swung open, a wave of applause burst forth, echoing through the glittering venue like a tide of celebration. With effortless charm, Brayden offered his hand, and Gracie took it, the two stepping inside in quiet sync. To the guests, they seemed every bit the elegant, harmonious couple. Ellie followed a short distance behind. Just before walking out, she dabbed on a final layer of lipstick, checked her reflection, and looped her arm through Theo's with a confident smile. Yet the moment the spotlight hit her, the air went eerily quiet, the festive buzz collapsing into stunned silence. A sudden throb of unease rippled through Ellie. Heat flared along her lips, then crept across her cheeks in a spreading burn. Her pulse quickened as she turned toward Theo. "What's happening? Is there something wrong with my face?" Theo's brows drew together, his voice steady but edged with concern. "Relax. It looks like a mild allergic reaction. I'll have someone bring ointment right away." Ellie froze, disbelief flickering across her face. An allergic reaction? That couldn't be right. The suffering was meant for Gracie all along, not her! A sharp glint of malice lit her eyes as realization struck. Gracie had clearly meddled with it! That deceitful woman—when had she learned to turn the tables so ruthlessly?