The pregnancy test sits on the marble counter. Two pink lines. In my past life, I cried tears of joy when I saw them. This time, I feel nothing but cold, calculated rage. Because I remember everything. I remember the underground interrogation chamber. The smell of mold and blood. The way Dominic Vale—my husband, the man I loved, the father of my child—stood in the shadows while his men broke my fingers one by one. I remember screaming that I was innocent. I remember him not believing me. I remember the execution. Quick. Clinical. A bullet to the back of my head while I knelt on cold concrete. I was twenty-eight years old. Now I'm twenty-seven again. One year before the Eastern Syndicate declares war. One year before everything falls apart. And I'm pregnant with the child who will be stolen from me, replaced with Lena Moretti's bastard, the boy I'll raise as my own only to have him spit on my grave. Not this time. I pick up my phone and dial. "Archway Women's Clinic," the receptionist answers. "How can I help you?" "I need an appointment," I say. My voice is steady. "Today, if possible. For a termination." --- The clinic is in a part of the city where the Vale empire doesn't have eyes. I chose it carefully. I wear sunglasses and a scarf, though I know I'm being paranoid. Dominic doesn't track my every move. Not yet. In this timeline, I'm still the obedient wife. The loyal one. The woman who asks permission before leaving the estate. He has no idea what I'm about to do. The procedure is quick. Painless, compared to what's coming. When it's over, I sit in the recovery room and stare at the white walls. In my past life, I carried that baby for eight months. I felt him kick. I sang to him. I loved him with everything I had. And then they took him. Replaced him with Lena's son. The boy had Dominic's eyes. His sharp jawline. I never suspected. Why would I? I gave birth to him. Or so I thought. The truth came out three years later. A DNA test ordered during a routine security sweep after the war started. Dominic's paranoia had grown. He tested everyone in the family. The results showed the boy wasn't mine. But instead of investigating how this happened, Dominic assumed I'd betrayed him. That I'd swapped the children myself. That I was working with the Eastern Syndicate. He never considered that his precious Lena—the woman he'd loved since they were teenagers, the woman he kept in a penthouse across the city, the woman he visited three nights a week—might be the traitor. She was. She'd been sleeping with Konstantin Volkov, the Syndicate's second-in-command, for two years. The baby was Konstantin's. But Dominic didn't discover that until after I was dead. I learned it in the moments before the bullet. Lena visited me in that chamber. She wanted to gloat. She told me everything. How she'd seduced Konstantin to gain leverage. How she'd gotten pregnant and panicked. How Dominic's personal doctor—a man loyal to Lena, not the family—had helped her swap the babies in the hospital. How easy it had been. "Dominic will never believe you," she'd whispered, her breath hot against my ear. "He loves me. He's always loved me. You were just the suitable wife. The one his father approved of. But me? I'm the one he dreams about." Then she'd left. And Dominic had given the order. --- I leave the clinic and take three different cabs before returning to the estate. The Vale mansion sits on forty acres outside the city. High walls. Armed guards. Security cameras everywhere. It's a fortress. It's also a prison. I've lived here for three years. In my past life, I stayed for six. Not this time. I have one year to dismantle everything Dominic has built. One year to make sure that when the war comes, the Vale empire falls. And I need to be far away when it does. The guard at the gate nods as my cab pulls through. He knows me. Mrs. Vale. The boss's wife. Quiet. Polite. Harmless. I smile at him. He has no idea I'm planning his employer's destruction. Inside, the house is quiet. Dominic is in meetings all day. He runs the empire from a secure office downtown. Shipping. Smuggling. Money laundering. Protection rackets. The Vale family controls half the city's criminal infrastructure. And I know every detail. In my past life, I paid attention. I listened during dinners with his associates. I memorized names, routes, weaknesses. I thought I was being a good wife. Turns out, I was gathering intelligence for my second life. I go upstairs to our bedroom. It's massive. Cold. We sleep in the same bed, but Dominic rarely touches me. Our marriage was arranged by his father before the old man died. A merger of families. My father ran the southern docks. Dominic needed that access. I was the price. He was always polite. Distant. He did his duty—got me pregnant—but his heart was never in it. His heart belonged to Lena. I open my laptop and start making lists. Contacts. Allies. People who owe the Vale family favors. People who secretly hate Dominic. People who can be bought. I have money. My father left me a trust fund that Dominic can't touch. It's not much compared to the Vale fortune, but it's enough. Enough to disappear. Enough to burn everything down first. I'm three hours into my research when I hear footsteps in the hallway. Heavy. Confident. Dominic. He's home early. I close the laptop and stand, smoothing my dress. I need to be normal. Obedient. The woman he expects. The door opens. Dominic Vale is forty-two years old. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dark hair starting to gray at the temples. He's handsome in a brutal way. Sharp features. Cold eyes. In my past life, I loved him desperately. Now, looking at him makes my skin crawl. "You're home," I say softly. He studies me. There's something different in his expression. Something I can't quite read. "Where were you today?" he asks. My heart stops. But my face stays calm. "Shopping," I lie. "I needed some air." He steps closer. "You took three different cabs." Fuck. He was tracking me. "I didn't want to bother the driver," I say. "I know you need him for—" "Don't lie to me, Celeste." His voice is quiet. Dangerous. He knows. But how much? "I'm not lying," I say. I meet his eyes. "I went shopping. I took cabs. That's all." He reaches out and touches my face. His fingers are cold. "You're different today," he says. "I'm not." "You are." He leans in close. His breath smells like whiskey and mint. "If you're planning something," he whispers, "I'll find out." Then he pulls back and walks to the window. "We're having dinner with Lena tonight," he says casually. "She's been asking about you." Of course she has. In this timeline, Lena and I are supposed to be friends. She plays the role perfectly. The sweet mistress who respects the wife. The woman who knows her place. It's all an act. "That sounds lovely," I say. Dominic turns back to me. "Good. Wear the blue dress. The one I bought you." It's not a request. "Of course," I say. He leaves. I wait until his footsteps fade, then I go into the bathroom and lock the door. My hands are shaking. He's suspicious. I need to be more careful. But I also need to move faster. Because if Dominic discovers what I'm planning before I'm ready, he won't just kill me. He'll make sure I suffer first. ---