Chapter 1

Three years into our marriage alliance, Charles Sterling hated me down to his core.

He always said, "Carina, you're just like your father, always using underhanded means to take whatever you want."

I smiled as I put on the earrings designed by his beloved. "Mr. Sterling, we're a couple. Doing something intimate is only natural, isn't it?"

But on the day the Quinn family collapsed, he gripped the birthmark on my collarbone so hard that he actually destroyed it. Then, he sent me straight to prison.

When I woke up again, I was back on that stormy night, the night I forced him to marry me.

Charles's eyes were icy. "So, Ms. Quinn, what tricks are you up to this time?"

I wiped the blood from my forehead and slid the signed divorce agreement across the table.

"Mr. Sterling, congratulations. You're free now," I said.

His eyes locked onto the extra clause: [Voluntarily relinquish all shares in Quinn Group.]

His expression finally changed.

He had no clue that this was only the beginning.

I came back to reclaim everything.

And while I was at it, I'd watch him and his innocent sweetheart go down.

*****

The rain was coming down so hard, it felt like the sky had split open.

I stood outside the study at Sterling Manor, blood from my forehead mixing with the rain and running down, blurring half my vision. Warm yellow light spilled out from the crack in the door, along with Charles's icy voice.

He said, "Tell Carina to give up. I'd rather marry a dog than her."

That old, familiar ache twisted in my chest, like a rusty saw dragging back and forth, slow and relentless.

Here it came again.

Even after I time-traveled back, just hearing those words made my body flinch out of habit, just like in my previous life.

I lifted my hand and wiped my face, feeling the rain and the blood, both cold as ice.

Perfect. This time, my heart stayed cold.

"Ms. Quinn, how about you go to the hospital first?" Carl, the butler, called out behind me, his voice shaky as he held the umbrella.

He'd watched me grow up, but he'd never seen me looking so battered and yet so eerily calm.

I shook my head and pulled out a document from my bag. The papers were pristine; not a single drop of rain had touched them.

Then, with a sudden kick, I sent the heavy wooden door flying open.

The door crashed into the wall with a thunderous noise.

Inside the study, Charles was seated behind his massive desk, focused on his computer. When the noise hit, he looked up, his eyes narrowing behind those gold-rimmed glasses. They were cold and deep, like a pool iced over.

On the sofa next to him sat a woman in a white dress, Wendy Lane. She let out a soft gasp, startled, and edged closer to Charles for comfort.

In my previous life, it was on this exact stormy night that I caught them in the act. I went wild, like a lunatic, smashing a vase over Wendy's forehead.

And that shattered whatever tolerance Charles had for me, if he ever had any to begin with.

"Carina," Charles set down his pen, his voice colder than the rain outside. "What are you up to now? Playing the victim again?"

His eyes lingered on the blood dripping from my forehead, and he was completely unmoved. All he showed was irritation.

Wendy said gently, "Charles, Ms. Quinn is hurt. Maybe you should take it easy—"

"Wendy, don't bother speaking up for her," Charles cut her off, fixing his gaze on me. "She's capable of any tricks."

I tugged at the corner of my mouth, trying to smile, but my face just wouldn't cooperate.

Of course, in his eyes, I was nothing but a scheming, heartless woman.

To get him, I'd stoop to anything—drugging him, forcing him to marry me, using the whole Quinn Group as leverage, even hurting his precious Wendy, the flawless angel he kept so close to his heart.

Step by step, I crossed the room, my heels echoing crisply on the polished floor. Drops of blood marked my path, leaving behind a trail of stains like tiny, withered flowers.

Reaching his desk, I slammed the document down in front of him with a loud smack.

Charles frowned.

Wendy looked over, curious.

"Sign it," I said, my voice rough but calm. "Charles, congratulations. You're free now."

Charles's pupils contracted ever so slightly. He lowered his gaze to the bold title on the cover of the document: Divorce Agreement.

The air seemed to freeze for a few seconds. Only the relentless sound of rain outside filled the silence.

Charles looked up, studying me again, as if trying to decide whether this was just another one of my ploys. His gaze was razor-sharp, searching my face for any cracks in my resolve.

But he found nothing.

There was nothing left in my eyes. No love, no hate, no resentment, no schemes. Only a silence as deep as the abyss.