Claribel Hathaway's eyes snapped open.
The mirror across reflected everything—the cramped bathroom, the dim lighting, her messy clothes as she leaned against the man in front of her...
"Baby, I’ve been waiting forever for you."
Claribel’s mind jolted back to reality. Wasn’t she killed by that scumbag Christopher Bennett and that backstabbing Luna Fox? Why was she here?
Wait a sec... That voice—
Christopher!?
A wave of hate surged up, choking her. She remembered, like it had been burned into her skin, how Christopher locked her in a warehouse and watched her burn alive.
It was Alexander Hart—the husband she’d hated—who had rushed into the fire and dragged her out, no matter the cost.
And the people she trusted? They threw her straight into hell, smashing her to pieces.
No chance of coming back.
Last time, she was forced to marry Alexander. Even though he pampered her, loved her, handed her the world, she still pushed him away.
She had been blinded by Christopher and Luna’s lies, always picking fights with Alexander, trying everything to get him to hate her, to divorce her.
But no matter how hard she tried, he never once gave up on her.
Until that day.
Alexander walked in on this scene in a bar restroom and changed completely after that.
"Alex, Claribel’s not in there. She—she really isn’t," Luna’s fake-panicked voice buzzed in her ears.
Claribel’s eyes turned icy. Now she realized—this whole setup had been orchestrated by Luna and Christopher.
"Alex—"
"Get out of my way!"
There was just one door between her and Alexander.
One kick, and history would repeat itself.
No way.
She had to flip the script.
And make every single one of them pay for what they did.
Claribel suddenly looked up at Christopher, lips curling into a flirtatious smile. She reached out and casually hooked a finger around his tie, pulling him closer, her eyes gleaming with something dangerously alluring.
Christopher was momentarily stunned by her charm. Damn, no wonder even a man like Alexander Hart fell so hard for her.
If only her background wasn't so low, he’d definitely keep her close.
"Chris, baby," she murmured, voice coy. "Do you want me?"
Blinded by lust, Christopher's hand slid around her waist. "What do you think, little vixen?"
She grinned. "Then come here, closer."
BANG!
With a loud crash, the bathroom door burst open. At the same time, Luna’s shrill voice cut in, "Claribel! Alex’s so good to you—why would you hurt him like this—"
Cut off midsentence.
Luna’s eyes widened, utterly shocked by the scene in front of her.
This was... not how it was supposed to go.
Claribel had a fist tangled in Christopher’s hair, shoving his face straight into the toilet bowl, her voice cold and laced with contempt. "You? Trying to seduce me? Please. Do I look like I’ve lost my damn mind? Why would I trade my smoking hot husband for a meathead like you with mashed potatoes for brains, a short circuit up top, and zero self-awareness?"
She slammed his head down again. "You wanna flirt with me? Eat shit first."
After dropping that bomb, she clapped the dust off her hands and turned around.
Seeing the man at the door, she blinked with mock surprise. "Oh hey, babe—Luna—you guys here too?"
His face was mostly hidden by shadows, unreadable. But Claribel remembered clearly—on this exact day in her past life, he grabbed her, shoved her into the car, and took her with a raw rage.
She didn’t leave bed for seven days after that.
Claribel shoved those memories down, raised her head to meet his dark eyes, then flashed a sweet smile. Stretching out her delicate fingers, she cooed, "Honey, my hand hurts from that. Blow it for me?"
