Chapter 3

Corbin looked down at the pale, slender arms wrapped tightly around his waist. His breathing grew heavy, the sound ragged in the quiet room.

His eyes locked onto her left wrist. A faint red bruise was forming there-a mark from how hard she had struggled against him last night when he forced her to stay in this room.

The sight of the bruise triggered a sick twist in his gut. His paranoia flared, hot and suffocating. She hated him. She had always hated him. This sudden affection was a lie. It was a tactic to get him to lower his guard so she could run.

Corbin grabbed her wrists. His grip was entirely too tight, his fingers digging into her skin. Alana winced, her brows pulling together.

He ripped her arms away from his body. He stood up abruptly, putting three feet of physical distance between them.

Alana looked up at him, confused. She opened her mouth to explain, to tell him she wasn't going anywhere, but the words wouldn't form.

Her silence was all the proof he needed. To him, it was the silence of a liar caught in the act. It was disgust.

Corbin let out a harsh, self-deprecating laugh. He bent down, snatched his discarded dress shirt off the floor, and shoved his arms into the sleeves.

He turned his back to her. His posture shifted, the vulnerable man vanishing, replaced instantly by the ruthless, cold CEO of the Mendez Empire.

"Don't play these pathetic games with me, Alana," he said, his voice devoid of any warmth. "It won't work."

He didn't wait for her to respond. He walked out of the bedroom with long, angry strides.

The heavy oak door slammed shut behind him. The impact shook the walls and rattled the glass in the windows.

Alana sat alone in the center of the massive, messy bed. She let out a long, slow breath.

She couldn't blame him. Healing a man with a mind as fractured and paranoid as Corbin's wasn't going to happen with one hug. It would take time.

And now, she had all the time in the world.

Alana slid off the bed. Her bare feet sank into the expensive Persian rug. She walked over to the floor-to-ceiling mirror in the corner of the room.

She stared at her reflection. Her face was young, pale, and breathtakingly beautiful. The hollow, sickly, dying woman from her past life was gone. But marring the flawless skin of her neck were stark, dark purple bruises forming in the shape of a man's large fingers. The physical evidence of Corbin's violent, traumatized mind was undeniable, a brutal reminder of how close she had just come to having her neck snapped.

Looking at her own face brought the memories rushing back. The fake, sympathetic smile of her stepmother, Euphemia. The cruel, mocking laughter of her stepsister, Jessica.

A cold, sharp hatred sliced through her chest. Her eyes darkened, turning into chips of ice.

Suddenly, a string of glowing blue numbers flashed across her retinas.

Alana gasped and closed her eyes. Deep within her consciousness, a vast, futuristic, digital storage space materialized.

It was The Cache. The surreal system she had accidentally awakened in the final, desperate moments of her past life, right before it was too late to use it.

She focused her mind. She visualized the medical shelf and reached out to a small vial labeled 'Basic Stamina Recovery'.

She opened her eyes.

A heavy glass vial filled with glowing blue liquid was sitting perfectly in the palm of her hand.

Alana popped the cork. She brought the vial to her lips and swallowed the liquid in one gulp.

Instantly, the chronic tightness in her chest vanished. The heavy, lethargic fatigue that had plagued her body for years evaporated. Her lungs expanded fully.

She stared at the empty vial, a dangerous smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth.

She wasn't the weak, sickly orphan anymore. She had the ultimate advantage.

Alana walked over to the nightstand and picked up her phone. She tapped the screen to check the calendar.

Tonight was the Knox family's annual charity gala.

In her past life, tonight was the night Jessica had set her up, ruining her reputation in front of Sterling City's elite.

Alana tossed the phone onto the bed. She turned and walked toward the massive walk-in closet. It was time to get dressed. She had a gift to deliver to her enemies.