The sterile scent of antiseptic clung to me, a cruel reminder of my last moments. Just hours after giving birth, my stepsister, Emily, forced poison down my throat, her beautiful face twisted in a triumphant smirk. My husband, Mark, stood by, his hands pinning me to the hospital bed, his eyes cold and indifferent as life drained from mine. They told the world I died of childbirth complications; a tragic accident. Emily and Mark built their perfect family on the foundation of my unmarked grave. But then, a violent gasp jolted me awake. I shot up in bed, my chest heaving, the scent of antiseptic replaced by cool air and familiar sunlight. I wasn't dead. My body was unblemished, my stomach flat. I was back in my old bedroom, a month before they framed me, a month before I was forced to marry Mark. Rage and betrayal solidified within me-not a fleeting flame, but an unshakeable stone. "Is everything ready for tonight?" my stepmother, Mrs. Davis, whispered downstairs, her voice sharp and calculating. "The drug is in the drink," Emily replied sweetly. "Once Chloe has it, we get her to the hotel room. A few photographers, a 'concerned' call to the Wilsons... and her reputation will be ruined forever." Their plan, so wicked and perfect, was laid bare, just as I remembered. Frame me, ruin me, force me into marriage, then erase me entirely. But this time, I knew their game. And this time, I wouldn't be a pawn. I would be the one setting the board.
The sterile scent of antiseptic clung to me, a cruel reminder of my last moments.
Just hours after giving birth, my stepsister, Emily, forced poison down my throat, her beautiful face twisted in a triumphant smirk.
My husband, Mark, stood by, his hands pinning me to the hospital bed, his eyes cold and indifferent as life drained from mine.
They told the world I died of childbirth complications; a tragic accident.
Emily and Mark built their perfect family on the foundation of my unmarked grave.
But then, a violent gasp jolted me awake.
I shot up in bed, my chest heaving, the scent of antiseptic replaced by cool air and familiar sunlight.
I wasn't dead. My body was unblemished, my stomach flat.
I was back in my old bedroom, a month before they framed me, a month before I was forced to marry Mark.
Rage and betrayal solidified within me-not a fleeting flame, but an unshakeable stone.
"Is everything ready for tonight?" my stepmother, Mrs. Davis, whispered downstairs, her voice sharp and calculating.
"The drug is in the drink," Emily replied sweetly. "Once Chloe has it, we get her to the hotel room. A few photographers, a 'concerned' call to the Wilsons... and her reputation will be ruined forever."
Their plan, so wicked and perfect, was laid bare, just as I remembered. Frame me, ruin me, force me into marriage, then erase me entirely.
But this time, I knew their game.
And this time, I wouldn't be a pawn. I would be the one setting the board.
Introduction
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Chapter 1
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Chapter 2
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Chapter 3
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Chapter 4
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Chapter 5
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Chapter 6
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Chapter 7
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Chapter 8
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Chapter 9
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Chapter 10
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