Chapter 1
Edward Harper "died."
His car plunged off a cliff, leaving no trace of him behind.
I shattered my spine giving birth to his posthumous child, and for twelve years, I kept the family business running from a wheelchair in his absence.
It wasn't until the day he came back holding hands with his first love that I finally realized the truth.
The car accident was all staged.
His feelings were never real.
All the pain I went through for twelve years was just part of their plan.
It was on that stormy night, overwhelmed by rage and betrayal, that I literally died from anger.
When I opened my eyes again, I was three months pregnant, and the sun was shining brightly outside.
He hadn't "died" yet.
This time, I wouldn't cry.
I'd just smile and watch him put on his show.
And then, step by step, I'd take his lifeline into my own hands.
*****
When Claire opened her eyes, the crystal chandelier above her was still swaying.
Light scattered across the floor, like the broken bones of her past life.
She glanced down at her hands, and they were soft and fair, with no calluses and none of the roughness that years in a wheelchair had left on them.
Her belly was only starting to show, because she was three months along.
Claire's breath caught, her fingers tightening around the sheets.
Back in her previous life, right now, Edward had just two weeks left before he was supposed to go on that so-called "business trip."
That black van would speed off the mountain road, roll over seven times, and crash straight into the riverbed.
The rescue team scoured the river for three days and nights, but in the end, all they found was just a burnt shoe.
She knelt by the river, crying until she passed out. When she was carried back to the Harper Estate, Edward's mother, Deborah Harper, said, "The baby must be born."
So Claire went through with it and had the baby.
Her spinal cord was crushed at the third vertebra, and she was stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of her days.
Meanwhile the man who was supposed to be dead was alive and well on an island two thousand miles away, with his arm around Isabelle White, drinking red wine and watching the sunset.
It had been twelve years.
She managed 3.3 billion dollars of Harper Holdings assets for him, and she raised a son he could not have cared less about.
But instead of the reunion she had waited for, all Claire got was a letter of introduction from his so-called "benefactor," along with a few weightless words from Edward. "Claire, step aside."
"Step aside," he had said, as if the words weighed nothing.
And so, she did. She stepped aside, just like he asked.
And so, on that stormy night, she died alone in the shadows of his engagement party with Isabelle White.
The last thing Claire heard was Isabelle's mocking laughter as she clung to Edward. "Twelve years, and she still isn't dead? Didn't you say her body should have failed ages ago?"
Edward's voice was flat and emotionless. "Soon."
Soon, he had said.
Claire closed her eyes, her stomach twisting with rage and nausea.
She clenched her fists so tightly that her nails bit into her palms, drawing crescent-shaped lines of blood.
She slowly sat up.
Her phone was on the nightstand, the date clear as day: March 17, 2014.
Just fourteen days left until Edward's "accident."
Claire stared at the numbers on the screen, a slow, predatory smile creeping across her lips.
It wasn't a bitter smile, nor was it one of relief.
It was the grin a hunter wears when their prey steps right into the trap.
The door swung open and Janet Lowe, the housekeeper, came in carrying a bowl of chicken soup, and she nearly jumped when she saw Claire sitting up.
Janet said, "Mrs. Harper, you're awake already? The doctor said you need to rest more. The baby..."
"Janet," Claire said calmly. "Where's Edward?"
"Mr. Harper left for the office early this morning. He said he has a business dinner tonight, so you don't need to wait up for him."
He had told her not to wait up.
She'd spent twelve years waiting for him in her last life.
This time she would not wait a single second, and she would never wait again.
"Bring me my coat. I'm heading out," Claire said.
Janet hesitated. "But Mr. Harper made it clear that you shouldn't be going out while you're pregnant..."
Claire threw off the covers and stepped barefoot onto the floor, the chill shooting straight up her spine.
She glanced down at her legs, almost in disbelief.
She could stand. She could walk. She could run.
The spine that had been shattered in her last life was now perfectly intact.
She clenched her fists, her throat constricting with emotion.
"Janet, I said bring me my coat," Claire said, and her voice was calm but firm.
Her voice wasn't loud or sharp, but the bowl in Janet's hands trembled. Without another word, she turned and went to the closet.
Claire stood in front of the full-length mirror, staring at her reflection.
She was twenty-four, and her face was clean and bright, with no dark circles and none of the lifeless, haunted look that twelve years of misery had once etched into her eyes.
She reached up and touched her own face.
It was good to be young.
It was good to be alive.
This time she was not handing her life over to anyone.
After getting dressed, Claire walked past the Harper family's driver waiting downstairs and headed straight to the curb, where she hailed a cab for herself.
"Where to?" the driver asked.
"Seaview District, Goldcrest Law Firm," Claire replied.
Back when she was stuck in that wheelchair, every single document from Harper Holdings crossed her desk.
Over twelve years she had memorized every contract, every transfer, and every organizational chart from every affiliated company.
It wasn't because she was particularly smart.
It was because she couldn't walk, had no freedom, and nothing to distract herself.
All day, there was nothing else for her to do but pore over those documents.
Edward probably never imagined that the documents he tossed to his "useless" wife would one day become a blade turned against him.
The taxi glided through the March sunlight, and Claire leaned back in the seat, her hand resting on her gently rounded belly.
She was going to have this baby.
But this time, she wasn't risking her life for it.
This time, she'd already chosen the hospital, the doctor, and exactly how she'd deliver.
The spinal injury from giving birth naturally last time? Not happening again.
Twenty minutes later, the taxi pulled up in front of Goldcrest Law Firm.
Claire pushed open the glass door, and the receptionist looked up, pausing for a second, surprised to see Claire walk in.
"Hello, can I help you?" the receptionist asked.
"I'm here to see Simon Reed. I have an appointment," Claire said.
She had not actually made an appointment. But in her previous life Simon had been Harper Holdings' legal counsel, until he spoke up for her and Edward cut him off from every future deal.