Chapter 1

Today was my wedding day, and it was also the day I died for the 100th time.

At the end of the aisle, the man I loved most in this world, Kevin Carter, smiled as he reached out his hand to me. His eyes were as gentle as they had always been, shimmering like a sea of stars.

But I was the only one who knew that hidden beneath that devotion was a blade he intended to drive straight through my heart the moment the reception ended.

I had lived this loop 99 times. I had tried 99 different ways to save myself, only to experience 99 uniquely agonizing deaths.

But this time, I decided to stop running. I was going to smile, walk right up to him, and tear off his perfect mask before he got the chance to kill me.

*****

The priest's raspy, ancient voice echoed through the cavernous cathedral, sounding less like a blessing and more like a dry, sinister incantation.

"Do you, Kevin Carter, take Alyssa Lane to be your lawfully wedded wife, for richer or for poorer..."

I stood on the plush red carpet, the heavy, cascading layers of my wedding gown feeling like iron shackles dragging me down. Kevin turned his head to look at me.

The sunlight streaming through the stained-glass windows washed over his face, highlighting his flawless jawline. His deep, striking eyes were practically overflowing with a love profound enough to drown any woman.

"I do," he said. His voice was magnetic and unwavering, resonating like a cello played softly in its lower register.

My stomach violently cramped, a sickening mix of bile and sheer terror rising in my throat. This was the 100th time I had heard those exact words.

In the previous 99 loops, this vow was immediately followed by some horrific form of termination. I had suffered from being pushed off a balcony, a catastrophic car crash, strangulation, or a sudden stab in the back.

Swallowing back the urge to vomit, I gripped my bridal bouquet so tightly my fingernails dug into the stems. The bitter sap from the crushed roses bled through the fabric of my pristine white lace gloves.

"And do you, Alyssa Lane, take..."

"I do," I interrupted, forcing the most radiant smile I could muster. My voice trembled slightly, a biological warning flare screaming at the proximity of death, but I had to keep this "blushing bride" mask firmly in place.

I turned my head, my peripheral vision locking onto the woman standing just behind Kevin. It was my maid of honor, Sophie Green, my supposed best friend of ten years.

She was staring at the floor, both hands gripping her own bouquet in an unnaturally rigid posture. Her right index finger wedged deep into a hidden gap between the flowers.

I knew exactly what was hiding in there. It was a microscopic steel needle laced with a lethal neurotoxin. In loop number 34, when she leaned in to hug me, she drove that needle straight into the base of my neck.

I didn't even have time to scream before I plunged into permanent darkness.

Kevin took my hand and pulled the diamond ring from its velvet box. As he slid the cold metal onto my finger, his thumb slowly, deliberately traced the center of my palm, as if he were mapping out my lifeline.

It was a subtle, rhythmic stroke that meant, "The plan is a go."

I stared at his handsome profile, a violent chill racing down my spine like a thousand tiny vipers slithering across my skin. This ring had been slipped onto my finger 99 times, and it had been soaked in my blood 99 times.

The banquet hall was brilliantly lit, and the air was thick with the scent of expensive champagne, high-end cologne, and Casablanca lilies. To my hyper-aware senses, the combination smelled like suffocating rot.

"You must be exhausted, darling," Kevin said, walking toward me with two glasses of red wine. He smoothly blocked a few approaching guests, acting as a flawlessly attentive husband.

His hands were perfectly steady. The dark red liquid swirled in the glasses, reflecting the light from the massive crystal chandelier above like liquid blood. I stared at the wine, my heartbeat hammering so violently against my eardrums it made my scalp tingle.

I knew exactly what was in that glass. It was spiked with a synthetic drug designed to trigger instant cardiac arrest in a healthy adult. That had been my cause of death in loop number 12.

"Drink this with me, to the start of our new life," he murmured with a smile, leaning in close. His warm breath brushed my ear, but it sent a freezing terror through me.

The crowd around us started cheering, the noise crashing over me like a tidal wave. Standing a few feet away, Sophie swirled her champagne, glaring at me through her glasses with the cold patience of a vulture waiting for its prey to drop dead.

I smiled and took the glass, intertwining my arm with Kevin's for the traditional toast. In the exact fraction of a second when we tilted our heads back to drink, I executed a sleight-of-hand maneuver honed through dozens of failed loops.

Using the wide sleeve of my gown as a blind spot, I swapped our glasses.

The wine slid down my throat, leaving a sickeningly sweet aftertaste.

I watched as Kevin, completely unsuspecting, drained his glass of the "poisoned" wine. The fingers gripping my empty stemware trembled with pure ecstasy. My heart was practically leaping out of my chest. It was finally his turn to die.

I locked my eyes on his face, waiting for his pupils to dilate before he collapsed in agony.

But ten seconds passed, and Kevin's perfect smile hadn't wavered. He calmly pulled a silk handkerchief from his breast pocket and gently dabbed a stray drop of wine from the corner of my mouth.

"How does it taste?" he asked softly, his eyes glinting with a sadistic, cat-and-mouse amusement.

Suddenly, a piercing cramp ripped through my abdomen. It felt like a rusted saw blade was violently churning my internal organs. My vision blurred instantly, the faces of the guests morphing into a swirling mass of grotesque, distorted colors.

"You..." I opened my mouth, but my tongue was completely numb. I couldn't make a sound.

Kevin reached out and caught my collapsing body, pulling me tight against his chest. To the oblivious crowd, it just looked like the bride had a bit too much to drink, and the loving groom was holding her up.

He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his ice-cold lips brushing my ear as he whispered so only I could hear, "Alyssa, did you really think I'd only poison my own glass? You idiot. To make sure you die, I poisoned them both."