Chapter 1

As I was being burned alive, Yolanda Rivers was wearing the wedding gown I'd stitched, hosting a glitzy engagement party at the top of Silverloom Group's tower.

On the huge floor-to-ceiling screen, she clung to my fiancé, William White, smiling like a fairy-tale princess.

"Thank you, Mom and Dad," she said. "And thank you, Lily, for all you've given up over the years."

The scene shifted to the audience, where applause thundered.

My parents, who'd claimed they felt guilty for me, stood in the front row, looking utterly pleased.

No one knew that, not long before the party, I was locked in an old workshop three floors below, with gasoline pooled around my feet.

William set the fire. His voice came through the door, soft and low like a lover's whisper.

"Don't blame me, Lily. If you're alive, Yolanda's place as lead designer isn't safe, and Silverloom can't go public."

I banged on the door, my palms blistering, my throat raw. "Those designs are mine. Silverloom's gold embroidery is mine too. Grandma taught me that."

There was a brief silence outside the door.

Then my mom's cold voice cut in, "If we'd known bringing you back would cause this much trouble, we should've left you to rot in that small town."

I froze.

My dad added, "If you hadn't insisted on taking Yolanda's things, none of this would've happened."

As flames licked my dress, I stared at the neon-red sky outside and finally understood.

I hadn't stolen Yolanda's life.

They all teamed up and ripped away everything that was rightfully mine.

Before darkness swallowed me whole, only one thought remained in my mind.

If I ever got another shot, I'd make them give back every single thing they took.

The next second, I snapped my eyes open.

Blinding crystal lights hung overhead, and soft piano music filled the air.

Luna Leach, the makeup artist, spoke carefully beside me. "Ms. Rivers, the welcome-home party is about to start. Mrs. Rivers asked me to remind you to watch your words."

I glanced down: I was sitting in a dressing room, wearing an overly plain white dress.

In the mirror, my face was young, my skin glowing, no burn scars from smoke, no tired lines from pulling all-nighters to draft designs.

On the table lay a signed paper: a Confidentiality Agreement.

I stared at those words, my breath quickening.

I was back.

I was back at eighteen, on the day the Rivers family held my welcome-home party, but they only let me appear as a "sponsored girl."

In my previous life, I'd been tricked into signing that paper today.

The Rivers said Yolanda was in poor health and couldn't take any shock.

If the truth about the real and fake daughters got out, it would break her heart and drag the Rivers family's name through the mud.

Now that I was home, I should be sensible and just make a small sacrifice.

I believed them.

I thought we were family, that I could eventually warm their hearts.

But that "little sacrifice" lasted seven years.

I gave up my identity, my room, the emerald bracelet Grandma left me, credit for my designs, my engagement, and finally my life.

As I stayed silent, Luna quietly prompted, "Ms. Rivers?"

I picked up the agreement, read it, and smiled faintly.

Luna looked scared by my smile.

"Who told you to call me Ms. Rivers?" I asked.

She stared, confused.

I pressed, "The Riverses only recognize Yolanda as their one and only daughter, don't they?"

Before she could answer, I tore the agreement in half.

The rip sounded like a slap.

Luna's face went pale. "Please don't do this. Mrs. Rivers will be furious."

"Let her be." I stood up, lifted my dress, and walked out.

I was shoved into the hall like a lamb to the slaughter.

This time, I walked in on my own.

The moment the waiter pushed open the doors, every eye turned to me.

Beneath the golden dome, the Riverses' relatives and friends filled the long tables, along with reporters, socialites, business partners, and fashion industry insiders.

At the center of the stage, Yolanda stood in a haute couture dress, leaning gently against Mom, her smile sweet.

When she saw me, a flicker of surprise crossed her eyes before she quickly slipped back into that soft expression.

"Lily, you're here." She walked toward me, her voice dripping with honey. "I was worried you'd be nervous at your first big event. I almost came to get you backstage."

She'd always acted that close to me in my previous life.

But behind my back, she'd had the servants throw all my clothes out of my room, saying a country bumpkin like me needed to learn manners first.

I looked at her and remembered the fire. She'd come by once, wearing my diamond earrings.

She'd stood outside the door and said, "Don't blame me, Lily. Blame Grandma for passing down the gold embroidery only to you before she died."

She'd known all along she wasn't the Riverses' real daughter.

I shook my head and pushed the memory away.

Silently, my gaze dropped to Yolanda's wrist.

She was wearing an emerald bracelet, rich color, clear texture, carved with a tiny "Lily" on the inside.

Grandma had secretly given it to me before she passed away.

Mom had taken it away the second I got it, saying it suited Yolanda better.

I slowly reached out and grabbed Yolanda's wrist.

Her smile froze for a second. "Lily"

"Take off the bracelet," I said.

The room went dead silent.