Chapter 1

After spending five years abroad on archaeological digs with my grandpa, I came back to find that Sophia Taylor, the poor student my dad had been helping out, had somehow become Yara Lynch, the Lynch family's heiress.

She even stole my spot as the bride-to-be and threw a lavish engagement party with Vincent Harris.

That day, Sophia was poured into a couture gown, diamonds dripping from her throat like water, gliding through the ballroom as if her name were already engraved on the deed.

When she spotted me, her mouth curved into a scalpel-sharp smile. She sneered, "Oh, Sylvia Lynch. Did the family allowance run out? Back to play starving orphan, so my dad will open his wallet again?"

She flicked her fingers like swatting a fly and called out, "Security, drag this nobody out. One tile here is worth more than her entire outfit."

If it were in my previous life, I probably would've just stood there, stupidly arguing with her about who was the real heiress, and everyone would just laugh at me.

This time, however, I strode up, cracked my palm across her diamond-dusted cheek, and hissed, "Keep dreaming you're family, princess. Tonight, we find out whose name hits the curb."

The whole place went nuts.

Yara clutched her cheek, staring at me in shock. Her voice rang out, sharp and furious. She snapped, "You dare hit me?"

In an instant, a squad of black-clad security guards closed in around me, waiting for Yara to give the word.

I never imagined that after just five years away, I'd come back as a complete outsider in this house.

Vincent stepped in front of Yara, eyes cold with irritation. He demanded, "Who let this crasher in? Today's my engagement to Yara. You know how we deal with troublemakers?"

Yara nestled into Vincent's arms and whimpered, "She's that poor scholarship kid I told you about. She claims she wants to study archaeology, so my dad decided to fund her.

"Look how she repays him: gate-crashing our engagement in that tacky get-up. I should have warned him not to throw money at every sob story."

Back in my previous life, Yara had played the same tune. She said, "Today's my engagement party. I am so glad you could make it to wish me well."

Then she caught sight of my muddy work boots and launched into the same whine, "How dare you show up like that? These are designer rugs, and you're tramping dirt everywhere. At least pretend you respect me."

I really did blame myself back then, thinking I should've found out what was going on at home before popping up out of the blue.

I tried to reason with her, but Yara twisted every word, branding me a crazy impostor out to steal her life. In the end, I had no way out, and I died a miserable death, sinking into that icy lake.

But now, I gave her a dismissive look and scoffed, "Just because you changed your name doesn't mean you can cheat fate, Sophia Taylor!"

The guests around us started shooting me looks and whispering among themselves.

One whispered, "Sophia Taylor? Who's that? Robert's been bringing Yara to every event for five years. She's gotta be the real deal, right?"

Another chimed in, "Maybe all that digging messed with her head, and now she thinks she's the real heiress. What an ungrateful backstabber."

Yara put on her best saintly act and let out a dramatic sigh. She said, "I was just worked up. Today's supposed to be a huge deal for me, and then you show up like this. Maybe I said some things a little too harshly.

"But seeing your attitude now, I'm seriously going to tell my dad to cut you off and make sure you're out of the Lynch family for good."

I curled my lips into a smirk and jabbed a finger at myself. I asked, "You're saying Robert will kick me out of the Lynch family?"

Vincent snorted, as he'd never seen anyone so brazen, "What else? You think he will kick Yara out instead? Talk about guts.

"Robert's just running late, not ditching the party. You'd better scram before you get cut off for real!"

I raised an eyebrow, grabbed a chair, and sat down, casually popping a cherry into my mouth. I said, "Alright, I'll just sit here and watch. Let's see who really gets thrown out."

Yara was trembling with fury, practically throwing herself at me, hand raised, ready to slap me across the face.

I spent years lugging equipment and tools with my grandpa; no pampered princess who only waltzed at fancy parties could ever compare to me.

I caught her hand and twisted it. Instantly, Yara cried out, tears spilling down her cheeks from the pain.

She snapped, "You've been living off my family's money, and now you actually dare to break my hand? Sylvia, are you looking for trouble or just have a death wish?"

I had already died once. Empty threats like that meant nothing to me now.

Instead, I shot her a mocking smile and sneered, "Oh, so you do remember who I am? Then tell me, does pretending to be me really make you feel that special?"

Vincent stormed over, yanking Yara into his arms and shooting me a furious glare. He snapped, "You psycho. Don't think I won't have you dragged off to the psych ward right this second!"