Chapter 1

My son, Andrew, killed me.

Not with a knife or a gun, but with a slow, grinding betrayal that drained every ounce of life from me. I spent my entire life, my fortune, and my father's legendary name to build a golden path for him. I fought for him, schemed for him, and became the villain in everyone's story so he could be the hero.

And for my trouble? He stood over my grave, a picture of false humility, telling the world how he was finally free from his materialistic, power-hungry mother. He preached about earning one's own way, all while living in a mansion my money paid for and enjoying a reputation my sacrifices built.

The press called him a saint. They called me a cautionary tale.

The last thing I remember was the suffocating weight of failure, the bitter taste of a life wasted on an ungrateful child.

Then, I opened my eyes.

I was back. Back in the lion's den, my gilded cage of a home in Washington D.C. The air was thick with the familiar scent of old money and political maneuvering. My husband, Congressman Matthew Scott, was sitting across from me, his face a mask of practiced sincerity.

"Gabby, my dear," he began, his voice smooth and rehearsed. "We need to discuss the family foundation. And Ethan's future."

This was it. The exact moment it all went wrong the first time. The pivotal moment. He was testing me, just like before.

Last time, this conversation was a battlefield. I had fought, tooth and nail, for our son, Andrew, to be named the political heir. I argued that Ethan, Matthew' s son from his first marriage, was a political liability with his physical disability. I was vicious, relentless.

To seal the deal, I transferred a massive block of my personal tech stock-the legacy of my father, the real source of this family's power-to a trust for Ethan, essentially buying Andrew the title.

Andrew took the position. Then he publicly shamed me for my "cutthroat ambition," declaring he had no interest in the "trappings of power." He played the reluctant prince, forced onto a throne by his evil mother. He was praised for his humility. I was vilified.

Now, reborn to this exact moment, I felt a chilling calm settle over me. I looked at Matthew, my husband in name only, a man who used my wealth while wanting me to be the "bad guy."

I gave him a serene smile.

"You're right, Matthew."

My voice was even, devoid of the fire he expected.

"Ethan is the eldest. The position, the legacy... it rightfully belongs to him."