The Serpent's Kiss: A Wife's Revenge

The Serpent's Kiss: A Wife's Revenge

Gavin

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In my first life, I was the beloved adopted daughter of the Stanton family. My three perfect brothers showered me with affection, and Jackson, my first love, promised me the world. But it was all a lie. When they set the mansion on fire, they stood on the lawn and watched me burn. I heard them laughing through the flames. "She's just an orphan," they said. "Pretending to love her all these years has been exhausting." The only one who ran into the fire for me was Grayson Stanton-the cold, distant uncle who everyone said hated me. He held me as the roof collapsed, whispering, "I'm with you." He died for me. My world was built on their affection, a perfect, horrible lie. Now, I've woken up again, back in the lawyer's office, one week before the fire. To inherit the multi-billion dollar fortune, the will says I must marry one of my three brothers-my murderers. So when the lawyer asked for my choice, I smiled. "I choose Grayson Stanton."

Chapter 1

In my first life, I was the beloved adopted daughter of the Stanton family. My three perfect brothers showered me with affection, and Jackson, my first love, promised me the world.

But it was all a lie. When they set the mansion on fire, they stood on the lawn and watched me burn.

I heard them laughing through the flames.

"She's just an orphan," they said. "Pretending to love her all these years has been exhausting."

The only one who ran into the fire for me was Grayson Stanton-the cold, distant uncle who everyone said hated me.

He held me as the roof collapsed, whispering, "I'm with you." He died for me.

My world was built on their affection, a perfect, horrible lie.

Now, I've woken up again, back in the lawyer's office, one week before the fire.

To inherit the multi-billion dollar fortune, the will says I must marry one of my three brothers-my murderers.

So when the lawyer asked for my choice, I smiled.

"I choose Grayson Stanton."

Chapter 1

They say that when you die, you see your life flash before your eyes.

For me, it was the fire.

The heat, the smoke, the sound of the old mansion groaning as it was eaten alive by the flames.

And the faces of my three adopted brothers, Jackson, Brett, and Andrew, watching from the lawn.

They weren't trying to save me.

They were waiting for me to burn.

I remembered it all, every single detail, as I sat in the sterile, quiet office of my late adoptive father's lawyer.

"Ms. Schultz," the lawyer, Mr. Davison, said, his voice soft. "The will is... very specific."

He adjusted his glasses, looking at the document on the large mahogany desk between us.

"To inherit the Stanton empire, all of its assets, valued in the multi-billions, you must marry."

I said nothing. I already knew this part.

"The marriage must be to a member of the Stanton family," he continued, his eyes full of a gentle pity I no longer deserved.

He thought I was a grieving, confused girl. He had no idea I was a ghost, a vengeful spirit back in my own skin with a second chance.

"Have you given it any thought, Brooklyn? The will specifies one of your three brothers. Jackson, Brett, or Andrew."

My brothers. My handsome, doting, adopted brothers. It was a family joke, how none of them looked a thing like our father, or even each other. A fact everyone chose to ignore.

The ones who smiled at me while they planned my murder.

"I have," I said, my voice steady.

Mr. Davison gave a small, understanding smile.

"I imagine so. The press has already decided for you. You and Jackson Graham have been inseparable since childhood. It seems the logical, and dare I say romantic, conclusion."

I remembered that romance.

I remembered his soft kisses and gentle lies. I remembered saying "I do" in my last life, believing he was my future.

I also remembered him holding another woman' s hand, Keira' s hand, as he told her my death would finally make them rich.

"No," I said, the word sharp and cold in the quiet room.

Mr. Davison' s smile faltered.

"No?"

"I will not be marrying Jackson Graham."

He blinked, surprised. "Ah. Well, then perhaps Brett? He's a steady young man. Or Andrew? He has always been very... attentive to you."

He was trying to be helpful, trying to guide the poor orphan girl to the right choice.

"I will not be marrying Brett Mathews or Andrew Clemons either."

The surprise on his face turned to genuine confusion. He leaned forward, his voice dropping.

"Brooklyn, we must be clear. The will is absolute. If you do not choose one of them, the entire Stanton fortune will be liquidated and donated to various charities. You will be left with nothing."

"I understand the terms," I said, cutting him off calmly.

I looked him straight in the eye.

"I have made my choice."

He waited, his pen hovering over a notepad.

I took a breath. This was the first step. The first move in a war they didn't even know had begun.

"I choose Grayson Stanton."

Mr. Davison' s pen clattered onto the desk. His eyes widened, his professional calm shattering completely.

"Grayson Stanton?" he whispered, as if saying the name was a crime. "But... Brooklyn, he's..."

"My adoptive father's younger half-brother. I'm aware," I finished for him. "My uncle, by marriage and adoption."

The room was silent for a long moment. He stared at me, truly seeing me for the first time, not as a girl, but as something he couldn't comprehend.

"That is my decision," I said, my gaze unwavering. My voice was ice.

He swallowed hard, slowly gathering his papers. He looked shaken.

"I... I will amend the documents to reflect your choice."

He stood up, ready to leave.

"Mr. Davison," I said, stopping him at the door. "This conversation stays between us until the official announcement."

He nodded, still looking dazed. "Of course."

He paused, his hand on the doorknob.

"Brooklyn, if I may be frank... why him? Grayson Stanton was the only one who objected to your adoption. He has never shown you an ounce of warmth."

My fingers tightened on the armrest of the chair. Cold. Yes, he was cold.

Everyone saw Grayson as the stoic, distant uncle who barely tolerated my presence in the family. The powerful, respected businessman who looked at me with disapproval.

But I knew the truth.

Because I am a woman who has already lived and died once.

In my first life, I was Brooklyn Schultz, the beloved adopted daughter of the Stanton family, showered with affection by my three perfect brothers.

They were my world. Jackson was my first love, my everything.

And it was all a lie.

The only one who was real was Grayson. The cold, silent man who never smiled at me, who never gave me a single gift.

The man who, in the end, was the only one who ran into the fire for me.

I still remembered his arms around me, his body shielding mine from the falling, burning debris.

"I'll get you out of here, Brooklyn," he had choked out, his voice raw from the smoke. "I promise."

I had cried in his arms, the first real tears I had shed since the betrayal.

He hadn't been able to keep that promise. The roof collapsed.

But as I took my last breath, he held me tight, whispering, "It's okay. I'm with you."

He died with me. For me.

In this life, I would not let him get hurt.

In this life, they would all pay.

I returned to the Stanton mansion later that day. As I walked through the foyer, the massive crystal chandelier above me flickered, and I heard a faint, groaning sound from the ceiling. The housekeeper had mentioned something about the wiring being ancient. I filed the thought away. The three of them were in the living room, looking for all the world like concerned, loving brothers.

"Brooklyn, you're back," Jackson said, his voice smooth and full of warmth. He stood up, his handsome face arranged in a look of concern. "How did it go with Mr. Davison?"

"Did he explain everything?" Brett asked, ever the practical one.

Andrew just smiled his gentle, artistic smile. "Don't worry, Brook. Whatever happens, we're here for you."

Lies. All of it.

"He explained the terms," I said, my voice empty of emotion.

"So," Jackson said, stepping closer. "Have you decided? It' s okay if you need more time, of course. But you know I' ll take care of you."

He was so confident. So sure that his childhood sweetheart, the girl who had worshipped him for years, would fall right into his arms.

Just like last time.

"I've decided," I said, looking at their expectant faces. "You'll all find out in one week. At my birthday party."

I turned and walked up the stairs, leaving them to their confidence and their schemes.

One week.

One week until I burned their world to the ground.

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