The sharp, freezing pain nearly knocked Amelia Johnson out cold.
Sabrina Johnson gripped a fruit knife tightly, slashing her face over and over until it was a bloody mess.
She’d been lured here today by her half-sister, only to witness her fiancé, Ethan Collins, in bed with that same girl.
Ethan didn’t even look guilty—on the contrary, he shot her a look full of disdain. “Typical. Acting all holy when you’re anything but.”
“If it weren’t for you, Ethan and I would’ve been married ages ago,” Sabrina sneered, eyes full of venom. “You should’ve stayed in the countryside where you belong. Thinking you can fight me for the family fortune? Keep dreaming, you backwater bumpkin.”
Amelia’s mouth was sealed with tape, so all she could manage were muffled whimpers. Her tears mixed with the blood dripping from her wounds.
“You wanna talk? Too bad,” Sabrina chuckled darkly, tapping the knife against Amelia’s cheek. “Whatever you were gonna say—just keep it to yourself.”
“Funny, huh? You actually lived after my mom dumped you in the wild when you were a kid. Someone picked you up and raised you—what luck.” Sabrina's laugh turned twisted. “But this time, you’re not getting out alive.”
Without another word, she shoved Amelia off the balcony.
Amelia plummeted from the 27th floor like a broken kite, her bones shattering on impact, blood splattering everywhere.
Her eyes stared wide open—blood-red, filled with despair and rage.
She died with too much left unsaid. If there was a second chance, she swore she'd make Sabrina pay—tenfold.
...
...
Her head buzzed like it had been hit by a train. Amelia slowly opened her eyes, barely able to make out two blurry figures.
The shorter man stared at her lying on the bed, practically drooling. He patted his pockets and cursed, “Crap, I forgot my phone. Bro, lend me yours—I wanna snap a few hot solo shots of this babe first.”
“Mine’s in the car,” the taller one grunted, checking his coat before tossing out a curse. “I’ll grab it. Don’t touch her yet, alright? I get first go—we agreed.”
As her vision cleared, Amelia’s heart dropped. She remembered these two scumbags all too well.
Three months ago, on her birthday, Sabrina had spiked her drink.
These two men were handpicked by Sabrina, their job was to ruin Amelia’s life.
She had fought them with everything she had. They got spooked that she’d raise hell later, so they only managed to take a few dirty photos before leaving.But these weren’t just any photos—they were X-rated, explicit to the point anyone could instantly guess what had gone down between the girl and the two guys.
And yeah, those exact pics ended up in Ethan Collins’ hands.
This whole scene, it was déjà vu.
The news was playing on the TV in the background, and sure enough, the date matched—Amelia Johnson’s birthday.
God must’ve given her another shot. She was back!
That rush of happiness hit hard.
This time, she wasn’t going to let herself get screwed over again. Oh no, she was gonna play Sabrina Johnson and her little crew at their own game. Time to give them a taste of their own medicine.
The taller guy had stepped out, and the shorter one had gone to the bathroom. This was her moment.
Amelia scrambled off the bed and stumbled her way out the door.
She knew running blindly wouldn’t work. She needed to hide. Just then, she noticed an open room nearby. She darted in—smack—straight into someone's chest.
She looked up, desperate. “Someone’s after me, please… I need help...”
Damien Taylor frowned, clearly about to toss this sudden intruder out. But the moment he saw her face, he paused. Changed his mind.
He quietly shut the door. “You’re safe now.”
“Thanks…” Amelia was dizzy, barely standing. Her legs gave out, and she started to fall.
Damien caught her smartly around the waist, and she ended up nestled right against his chest.
The soft, sweet scent of her hit him, making him space out for a second.
Without thinking too much, Damien lifted her into his arms and laid her on the bed. Just as he was about to back away, Amelia grabbed onto his neck.
Surprisingly… he didn’t feel repulsed at all. Instead, something unfamiliar stirred inside him.
“It’s so hot… please…” she muttered, a flush creeping up her face.
Damien frowned. She’d definitely been drugged.
Without hesitation, he scooped her up and brought her into the bathroom, placing her gently into the tub before turning on the shower.
Cold water splashed down on her, but Amelia still looked like she was burning up from the inside—clearly struggling.
Eyes half-lidded, she started reaching around blindly. “It hurts…”
Her hand wrapped around Damien’s arm, and instinctively, she clung to him.
He bent down slightly, trying to adjust her position, but then his foot slipped—and they both ended up in the tub.
He quickly pushed himself up on either side of her so he wouldn’t crush her.
Amelia wound her arms around him again, nuzzling against his chest. “That feels better…”
Damien grabbed her wandering hand, voice rough. “Stop it. You’re seriously playing with fire here.”
