Chapter 1
Cecily Reed is dead.
She has died in a car crash, a "tragic accident" meticulously staged by Lucy Reed, that two-faced imposter she'd been forced to call a sister.
But pure rage has a way of defying the laws of nature. She is simply too furious to rot in a grave while Lucy got away with murder.
Her eyes snap open. Staring at the all-too-familiar living room before her, Cecily feels her heart hammering against her ribs, threatening to burst right out of her throat.
The digital display on the wall clock glares back at her with impossible clarity: March 17, 2030.
The truth washes over her like ice water. She hasn't just been reborn. She's woken up three years in the future.
*****
"Holy crap," Cecily Reed exclaimed, her mind reeling.
The situation was so ridiculous it felt completely surreal. Instinctively, she pinched the flesh of her thigh, sucking in a sharp breath as pain shot up her leg, which also proved that this was not some bizarre illusion.
But the initial rush of joy was short-lived, chased away by a chilling realization.
She had been dead for three years.
Her husband, George Hayes, must be utterly destroyed. After all, she was his whole world.
She shot to her feet, scrambling up the spiral staircase toward the master bedroom.
But before she could even reach the door, a series of suppressed moans drifted out from the crack.
"Oh... Mr. Hayes... please, be gentle!"
The blood rushed to her head, and a loud buzzing sound filled her ears, completely overwhelming her senses.
A rush of volcanic anger, mixed with the agonizing sting of betrayal, surged through her veins.
"George Hayes! You motherfucker!" she yelled, her voice trembling with rage.
She kicked the solid wood door with all her might.
"You have the balls to cheat on me in my own house? Have you no goddamn shame?"
But the scene that greeted her left her utterly speechless.
It wasn't the sordid affair she had braced herself for.
A woman in a white dress was on the bed. Her hands were tied securely behind her back with a man's necktie, and her mouth was gagged with a crumpled piece of cloth.
But the bed was empty. George, the owner of the room, simply wasn't there.
He stood by the window, the afternoon sun outlining his tall, imposing, and almost perfect physique. His features were chiseled and cold, his presence radiating an intimidating stillness. Two buttons on his collar were undone, revealing his sculpted collarbone.
Three years hadn't aged him a day.
He was still devastatingly handsome. But when Cecily looked into his eyes, the gentle affection she knew was gone. All that was left was icy coldness.
He shot a cool glance at the murderous figure in the doorway and sneered, "Drop the innocent act. Wasn't this little gift delivered by you, Ms. Reed?"
Lucy Reed made a muffled noise.
Seeing Cecily, Lucy began to struggle frantically, her eyes pleading for rescue.
It was a clear cry for help.
Cecily was completely lost.
Suddenly, a rush of dizziness hit her, and a flood of foreign memories crashed into her mind.
It turned out that for the three years she was gone, her body had been possessed by the spirit of some deranged, ancient-era matron who had been scorned by her husband and obsessed with producing heirs.
And with her warped "perfect wife" logic, she had turned Cecily's life into a living hell.
Not only did she try to "graciously" find George a lover to ensure the family line continued, but she also managed to warp Cecily's three sweet children into unrecognizable strangers. The kids were picking up all this toxic nonsense from her.
Her eldest son used to be so warm and lovely. The woman brainwashed him into becoming this reserved person with all that twisted nonsense about the firstborn son having to inherit the family fortune.
Her younger son was always so bright. But the woman indulged his every whim to the point that he knew nothing beyond partying and spending money. A completely illiterate.
And her sweet, sensitive little daughter had been force-fed ancient doctrines on female obedience until she became too insecure to even speak up!
As the last of the memories settled, Cecily felt her world crumble.
This was utterly insane!
For the past three years, that woman had been living Cecily's life with her face. What in God's name had she done?
Just then, Lucy managed to wriggle free from her bonds. She ripped the gag from her mouth, gasping for air.
"Cecily, I knew it! You did this on purpose!" she shrieked.
She scrambled off the bed, her pleading expression twisting into one of pure venom.
"You set me up! You did this just to humiliate me, didn't you?"
Dizzy with rage, she clumsily put on her shoes, pausing at the door to spit one last threat.
"You're a real piece of work, Cecily. Just you wait. This isn't over!"
Bang!
The door slammed shut behind her.
Cecily barely registered her departure. The sheer shock of it all made her vision swim, her body swaying as she struggled to stay upright.
A strong hand shot out, steadying her arm.
Cecily looked up, her gaze meeting a pair of piercing eyes.
At least her husband still cared for her.
Tears welling in her eyes, she opened her mouth to explain, a fragile hope flickering within her.
But in the next second, George recoiled as if he had touched something foul, shoving her away forcefully.
Caught off guard, Cecily slammed back against the doorframe, the sharp pain making her curse under her breath.
"George, what the hell? Are you trying to kill me?!"
George shot her a frosty look. "Save the drama, Cecily. The whole playing innocent routine? I've seen it all for three years. I'm over it."
He bent forward, bringing his impossibly handsome face mere inches from hers. His deep eyes looked icy, and within them glinted a cold threat.
"Trying to faint to cover up your screw-ups? Don't even bother," he sneered.
Cecily froze, totally speechless.
She whimpered to herself.
Where did her clingy hubby, who loved to snuggle and call her "wifey," go?
Why was he so cold now?
But seriously, how was she supposed to tell him that for the last three years, her body had been taken over by a deranged soul?
He would think she had gone from possessed to just plain crazy.
Steeling herself, she decided to take the blame for now. And she would win them back, one by one.
"George..." Cecily looked up, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she tugged weakly at his sleeve. "Please, let me explain. I mean, I know I've been awful these past few years. I see that now, and I really do.
"Can you please just give me a chance to make it right?"
She didn't call him by his formal title or "Husband." She used his name.