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A sharp pain shot through my head, pulling me from a deep darkness. I opened my eyes to my luxury penthouse, but I shouldn't have been there. I remembered dying.
The memory was cold and sharp: my protégé, Dustin, sold me out, and my husband, Graves, watched our company crumble, leading to my fatal heart attack.
Then, Graves appeared, his charming, empty smile unchanged. But he wasn't alone. A young woman, Alex Salazar, stood behind him, clutching her cheap handbag. Graves introduced her as an intern, saying she had nowhere to stay and would be living with us. My eyes fell to her neck, where a dark hickey was partially hidden.
The date on the nightstand confirmed it: I had traveled back in time to the exact day Graves brought Alex home in my previous life, the beginning of my long, painful nightmare. Last time, I had screamed and thrown things, starting my humiliation.
A strange calm washed over me. I had been given a second chance, not to win him back, but to escape.
"Of course," I said, my voice even, "The poor thing. We should take care of her." Graves looked surprised, then relieved. He thought he had won.
"In fact," I continued, pulling out divorce papers, "I'll make sure she's comfortable. You just have one small thing to do for me."
I wanted the Malibu property. "Give me that, and I'll walk away quietly. You can have your new life. You can take care of this... orphan."
Chapter 1
A sharp pain shot through my head, pulling me from a deep darkness. I opened my eyes and saw the familiar crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling of my luxury penthouse. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows across the expensive furniture.
This was my home. But I shouldn't be here.
I remembered dying.
The memory was cold and sharp. The corporate takeover I had been fighting for months had failed. My own protégé, Dustin Estrada, the one I had mentored and trusted, had sold me out. He stood beside my husband, Graves Kramer, as they watched our company get swallowed by a rival.
I remembered the look on Graves's face. No sadness, no regret. Just cold ambition. He was my husband, my childhood sweetheart, the man I had built an empire with. And he watched me die without blinking. The stress, the betrayal, it had triggered a fatal heart attack. I collapsed on the cold floor of the boardroom, my last sight being Graves turning his back on me.
"Kimberly, you're awake."
That voice. It was Graves. I turned my head slowly, my neck stiff. He stood by the bedroom door, looking exactly as I remembered him from that final day. He wore a tailored suit, his hair was perfectly styled, and his smile was as charming and empty as ever.
But he wasn't alone.
Standing slightly behind him was a young woman. She looked fresh out of college, with wide, innocent eyes and a nervous smile. She clutched the strap of her cheap handbag like a lifeline.
"This is Alex Salazar," Graves said, his voice smooth. "She's an intern from that small company we just acquired. Her parents are gone, and she has nowhere to stay. I told her she could stay with us for a while."
Alex Salazar. The name hit me like a physical blow. This was her. The new obsession. The woman he would eventually lavish all his attention and our shared fortune on.
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