Chapter 1

The lights in the operating room went out, but my consciousness floated above, watching as my fiancé, Matthew Lane, held his lifesaver, Yvonne Shaw, in his arms. Softly, he discussed donating my corneas to Yvonne after my death.

Matthew said, "It's what Samantha owes you. If she hadn't stolen the credit for saving me all those years ago, we'd have been together long ago."

My heart shattered. It wasn't Yvonne who had dug him out of the wreckage with my bare hands, shielding him from the steel rebar. It was me.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back to that night Matthew, now successful, was about to announce our breakup at his celebration.

*****

The harsh glare of the incandescent lights made my eyes sting. The familiar, suffocating smell of formalin from the operating room was replaced by the sickly sweet scent of expensive champagne and high-end perfume.

I sharply pinched my thigh, the pain shooting through my nerves, snapping me back to reality.

I was still alive. Or perhaps, I had been brought back to life.

"Samantha, this is no place for you," came a voice, dripping with condescension and a sense of superiority. "Go help Susan wash the glasses in the back."

I turned to see Yvonne Shaw, her face as flawless as it was fake. She was draped in a champagne-colored couture gown, strutting around like a proud peacock. In her hand, she twirled a glass of deep red Romanée-Conti, her gaze filled with contempt.

This was Matthew Lane's so-called savior, the woman who had once taken everything from me. In my past life, she stole my identity, and in the end, she even took my cornea.

A wave of nausea churned in my stomach. I fixed my eyes on her, not saying a word. When she saw I wasn't responding, a flash of malice crossed her face.

She deliberately took a step closer, her heels catching on the carpet. With a well-practiced stumble, she let her body sway toward me, her glass of wine threatening to spill as she "accidentally" bumped into me.

It was the same trick she'd pulled a thousand times before. In my previous life, I'd tried to avoid her and ended up crashing into a dining cart, ruining my dress. Matthew had been furious, chastising me for making a scene in front of important guests.

As I watched her face twist with the malice of her scheming, I could feel the blood in my veins pounding like a drum.

The moment she was about to collide with me, I didn't step back. Instead, I gripped her wrist, the one holding the glass, using her own momentum to twist it forcefully.

The slap I delivered was heavy, my palm stinging from the impact. Yvonne's body flew back like a puppet with its strings cut, crashing into the large ornamental fountain behind her.

Water splashed everywhere, the wine splattering across her face. Her perfectly styled hair collapsed into a wet, tangled mess.

The noise in the room died instantly. I shook the numbness from my hand and, through the shocked crowd, my eyes met Matthew's cold, seething gaze from the stage. His eyes were so dark, I could almost feel the hatred dripping from them.

"Samantha! Have you lost your mind?" Matthew nearly leaped off the stage, pushing through the crowd. He roughly pulled Yvonne out of the fountain, wrapping his suit jacket around her trembling body.

"Matthew... I'm not blaming Ms. Reed. It's my fault. I lost my balance. Maybe she just... just thought I looked a little too nice in this dress." Yvonne huddled in Matthew's arms, her wet hair clinging to her face, and her once-beautiful features now looked pitiful.

But every word that came out of her mouth was a calculated stab, and she had just succeeded in crucifying me as nothing more than a jealous bitch who couldn't stand being outdone.

Matthew whipped his head toward me, his expression twisted in disgust, the muscles in his jaw clenched. He looked at me as if I were the lowest form of filth, something not even worth acknowledging.

"Apologize to Yvonne," he said, his words deliberate, his voice as cold as ice.

I didn't apologize, nor did I even flinch. I could feel a faint, lingering pain in my chest where a steel beam had once pierced through. It was the phantom pain from my past life, a reminder of just how heartless this man was.

"Why should I?" I said, letting out a light chuckle. I casually took a glass of champagne from a nearby waiter's tray and sipped it slowly. "Mr. Lane, the wine at this celebration is quite good, but what a waste, spilling it on trash."

"Samantha!" Matthew's laugh was tight with fury. He pulled out a stack of documents he'd clearly been holding onto, raising them for everyone to see. "I was trying to give you some dignity, but since you're being so ungrateful, let's settle things right here."

He jabbed a finger at me and turned to the Riverdale high society gathered around. "Take a good look," he announced. "This is the orphan my family sponsored for ten years, a maid's daughter.

"And she's been using that one favor to hang around me all this time. Well, as of today, Samantha and I are done. Sign this annulment and get out."

The papers scattered across the floor. A quiet, mocking laughter rippled through the room. The ladies who had once fawned over me were now hiding behind their fans, whispering with disdain about the false heiress.

I crouched down and picked up the pen as the murmurs swelled around me. The scratching of the nib against the paper was the only sound that cut through the deathly silence of that hall.

And then I signed.

"Fine," I said, getting to my feet. "Since you've called off the engagement, let's talk about what Lane Holdings owes the Reed family after ten years."

I let my eyes drift across the room, where several of the city's most powerful business magnates sat watching. The way they looked at me had already changed. The amused curiosity was gone, replaced by something much closer to fear, deep and unreadable.

"What we owe the Reed family?" Matthew's laugh was sharp and cold, and I could see a muscle twitching at the corner of his eye. "You grew up eating the scraps from my family's table. Who the hell do you think you are to talk about it?"

Yvonne pressed herself against his chest, her finger trembling as she pointed at the sapphire necklace around my throat. "Matthew," she said, her voice thin and reedy, "look at her necklace.

"That's the Reed family heirloom, the one that went missing. I looked everywhere for it, and now I see she's the one who stole it."