Chapter 1
My fiancé was supposed to die of kidney failure.
So I did what any devoted bride-to-be would do—sold my family's estate, worked eighteen-hour days to pay for treatments, and when no donor could be found, I went under the knife myself.
But when I wake up from surgery, he is gone.
I tear through the hospital until I find him in the most expensive private suite, holding another woman, his true love.
"Thank fucking God it worked," he tells her, relief flooding his face. "Otherwise, I would've wasted all that time with that disgusting woman for nothing."
He laughs. "That stupid bitch actually gave me her only healthy kidney. Can you believe it? She knew she'd probably die, and she still went through with it. If she dies from complications, I'll make sure her ghost never comes back to haunt you."
Everything clicks into place. He's been in love with someone else all along. The only reason he kept our engagement going was because she needed a kidney. I was just her walking organ donor.
The shock rips my stitches open, and I bleed out on the cold hospital floor.
But then, I open my eyes. I am right back on the day he first tells me he is sick.
*****
Ryan Cooper sprawled across the couch, putting on his best dying-swan performance as he handed me a crumpled diagnosis slip.
He poured on the drama, milking every word. "Evie, I've got kidney failure. The doctors say I need a transplant, but my blood type is super rare. It'd be almost impossible to find a match."
Staring down at those fake test results, the ones I'd already seen in another life, I swallowed my fury, forcing my voice to stay level even as it trembled.
"How did this happen? Is it going to cost a lot?"
He saw me take the bait, and the waterworks began.
He sighed like a martyr, "There's this new drug that ups the odds of finding a match, but a single shot runs over 30 grand. The surgery's at least a hundred fifty. And after that? Who knows what else we'll need?"
He was making it up as he went, trying to wring me dry.
I lowered my head, jaw clenched. "But I don't have that kind of money right now..."
He caught my hand, urgency dripping from every syllable.
"Just take out an online loan. It's not hard for girls like you to make money.
"Besides, didn't your folks leave you a house? You could sell it. You love me, right? I'm only trying to get healthy so that I can marry you."
He clutched his chest and hacked out a theatrical cough for good measure.
Last time, he pulled the same stunt and led me around by the nose.
I begged anyone who would listen, drowned myself in debt, sold my family home, and worked eight jobs at once just to shovel cash into his bottomless pit.
Later, when a kidney infection knocked me down, I gave him my only good kidney.
But the whole thing was a con. He was ready to let me die just to save his one true love, Olivia Green. They were even planning to bury me in an unmarked grave.
But heaven must've been watching, because I got a second chance at life. This time, I was going to make both of those cheating bastards pay for everything they did.
When I didn't respond right away, he got antsy and shoved a bank card into my palm.
"Evie, I know you'll figure something out. Just wire the money to this account once you get it together," he said, trying to sound grateful while his eyes gleamed with greed.
I stared at the number stamped on it and felt the room tilt.
I would know that account in my grave. In my last life, he had me send every penny to this exact card for Olivia.
He was trying to run the exact same scam.
Rage flared hot, and I almost called him out. Then a cleaner thought snapped into place.
"Fine," I said evenly. "I'll help. But we're going to Presbyterian General for another round of tests. Private clinics screw up all the time."
He hesitated for a moment but finally agreed.
The second he agreed, I fired off a text to his parents: [Ryan has kidney failure. We're at Presbyterian General.]
In this life, he wouldn't get a dime out of me.
And I would make damn sure his honest parents got a front-row seat to watch their "perfect son" fake an illness just to con everyone around him.
When the results came in, Ryan snatched the report first, something twitching in his face.
"What'd the doctor say? Let me see," I said, reaching for it.
He dodged, pulling the papers out of my reach.
"It's the same result," he said, trying to sound casual. "I just don't want you to worry."
He just didn't want me to expose his lies.