Chapter 1

Henry Lancaster, the undisputed prince of Sterling City's elite, finds me just as I am slamming some sleazy director's face into the bar counter.

I snap, "You roofied my friend and still expect me to have a drink with you? Maybe you'd prefer a cocktail of your own brains mixed with that top-shelf gin."

Before the city's most powerful heir, I grab a champagne bottle and damn near beat that balding creep into a coma. Henry, who has clearly shown up to play knight in shining armor, is left standing there like a useless mannequin, watching the show.

Once the director is twitching on the floor and foaming at the mouth, I wipe my hands in disgust and finally turn my attention to the cool, untouchable figure frozen in the doorway.

"Your saintly fiancée shoved me off a cliff. I spent three months in a hospital bed, and you couldn't be bothered to send a single text," I say, my voice dripping with ice. "So, what is it now? Does she need another blood transfusion from me?"

Genuine shock crosses his handsome face. A man who has been worshipped his entire life has probably never been called out so brutally.

I smirk, "Wait, you did come for me, didn't you? Ready to drag me off so I can take the fall for her again?"

That seems to jolt him back to reality. He closes the distance between us in three long strides, his hand locking around my wrist like a steel cuff. "Jade Rivers. You're coming with me."

I stare into his eyes, the same eyes that watched me die in another life. He has personally ripped the oxygen tube from my throat just so that he can harvest my heart for the woman he truly loves. Hatred blazes through me like wildfire.

If being his lovesick puppy gets me nothing but a slab in the morgue, I'll be the goddamn villain this time.

*****

"Go back?" I sneered, my hand snapping around his wrist, my nails digging into his skin like claws. "Henry Lancaster, what in God's name makes you think I would ever go back with you?"

His brow furrowed, a flicker of irritation crossing his perfectly sculpted features. He clearly wasn't used to me using his full name, let alone fighting back.

"Stop making a scene," he gritted out. "Sophia is at home waiting for you to apologize."

"Apologize?" I snapped as the word ripped from my throat on a wave of hysterical laughter. "The fact that I didn't gut Sophia Winters with a steak knife is an act of divine mercy, and you want me to apologize to her?"

With a violent wrench, I tore my hand free. In the same motion, I snatched an empty wine bottle from the table, pointing it directly at his ridiculously handsome face.

"Touch me again," I snarled, "and I swear to God, you'll be joining that greasy director on the floor. You think I'm kidding?"

Henry's face went dark, the fleeting shock in his eyes hardening into a simmering rage.

"Jade Rivers, have you lost your mind?"

"I lost my mind a long time ago!" I screamed. "I lost it when you stood there and watched Sophia shove me off that cliff, and the only thing you cared about was whether she was frightened!

"I lost it when you ripped the oxygen tube from my throat and personally sent me to Hell with your own two hands!

"I've been insane for a long time!"

A collective gasp went through the crowd of onlookers.

"Murder..." someone whispered.

"Someone should call the cops..."

It was clear Henry understood the stakes. He lowered his voice, lacing it with a threat. "What the hell are you talking about? Put the bottle down."

I just smirked, swirling the bottle in front of his face in a lazy circle.

"Getting scared, are we? 'The Golden Boy Commits Murder for a New Heart.' How's that for a headline? Catchy enough for you?

"Or maybe you'd prefer a live demonstration of how you and your precious fiancée teamed up to murder me?"

My gaze flickered past him to the bodyguards now rushing in from behind.

"Here to grab me?" I taunted. "Go on. Try it."

With a suddenly sharp movement, I smashed the bottle on the floor. The sound of shattering glass was both jarring and beautifully clear.

I bent down, scooped up a jagged shard, and pressed its razor-sharp edge against the soft skin of my neck. A thin line of blood immediately welled up.

"Anyone makes a move, and I die right here," I promised.

I watched the color drain from Henry's face, and my smile grew sharper, almost wicked.

"Let your little fiancée live a long, happy life," I whispered, the words dripping with venom. "Pumping my blood and using my heart, she will be haunted every single day by the shadow of the woman she murdered.

"Henry, even as a ghost, I will never, ever let you two go."

Everyone was frozen, utterly terrified by my self-destructive will.

Henry's bodyguards were paralyzed, caught between their duty and the very real threat of me bleeding out on the club floor.

His gaze was locked on me, a turbulent storm of anger and bewilderment swirling in his eyes, along with a hint of terror I didn't understand.

I didn't give him another second to process it. Clutching the shard of glass, I backed away, step by agonizing step, as every eye in the room was fixed on me. Then I turned and melted into the night.

The second I collapsed into the back of a taxi, my hand went limp, the shard clattering to the floor mat. The sharp sting on my neck was nothing, not even a fraction of the agony tearing my heart to pieces.

This time around, I was setting the board. And the game was just getting started.