Chapter 1

The organ music swelled inside the grand cathedral, a sound so rich and heavy it felt like a physical weight pressing down on my shoulders. Sunlight, fractured into a thousand colors by the stained-glass windows, painted the white silk of my wedding dress in shades of blood red and deep blue. To everyone here, I was Eleanor Vance, the brilliant young architect, marrying into the Thorne dynasty. I was the luckiest woman alive.

But my heart was a cold, hard stone in my chest, and the smile on my face was a mask I had practiced for weeks. This wasn't a marriage; it was a sentence. I was trapped, a beautiful bird in a gilded cage, and the man waiting for me at the altar, Julian Thorne, was my keeper.

I reached the end of the aisle, my hand trembling as I placed it in Julian' s. He didn't look at me, his gaze fixed on the minister, his jaw tight. His touch was cold, impersonal, the grip of a man finalizing a business deal he found distasteful. I knew he despised me, believed the lies that had forced us here, the fabricated scandal that had ruined my reputation and bound me to him. My stepsister, Sophia, had arranged it all perfectly.

The minister' s voice droned on, a meaningless sound in the vast space. "Do you, Julian Thorne, take Eleanor Vance to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

His voice was clipped, devoid of emotion. "I do."

The words echoed in the silence. Now it was my turn. The whole world seemed to hold its breath, waiting. My mother sat in the front pew, her face pale, her eyes pleading with me not to cause a scene. She was sick, and the shame would be too much for her. I was her only hope.

"Do you, Eleanor Vance, take Julian Thorne to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

I opened my mouth, the word "no" a desperate scream trapped in my throat. But what came out was a whisper, a surrender. "I do."

The moment the words left my lips, a blinding white light filled my vision. It wasn't the flash of a camera, it was all-encompassing, erasing the cathedral, the guests, the cold grip of Julian's hand. A wave of nausea washed over me, a violent vertigo that stole my breath. The world dissolved into a screaming vortex of color and sound, and then, just as suddenly, it stopped.

I was standing in my old bedroom, the one in my mother's small house. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. The floral wallpaper, the one I' d convinced my mom to replace years ago, was still on the walls. My old drafting table was in the corner, covered in sketches for a university project.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. I picked it up, my hands shaking. The screen was smaller, the design older. The date read October 12, 2014. Ten years. I had traveled back in time ten years. To the day of my wedding. My first wedding, the one that never happened. The one to David.

A choked sob escaped my lips. It wasn't a dream. It was real. I was free. I wasn't married to Julian Thorne.

But the relief was short-lived, replaced by a cold dread. I knew what was coming. I knew that in a few short months, Julian' s father, the celebrated Mr. Thorne, would make a series of reckless investments in a tech bubble that was about to burst. The Thorne family fortune, the one that seemed so unshakable, would collapse overnight, leaving them with mountains of debt. And in the original timeline, I, his despised wife, had been the one left to shoulder the burden, my own career ruined as I worked to support them all.

My phone buzzed again. A text from Sophia. "Are you ready? Don' t be late! Julian' s family is coming for dinner tonight, you have to make a good impression!"

The blood drained from my face. Tonight. It was all starting tonight. The dinner where Sophia, my sweet, manipulative stepsister, would introduce me to the Thornes, setting in motion the chain of events that would lead to the scandal and my forced marriage. She had wanted Julian for herself, but when he hadn' t been interested, she had decided to take my life instead.

A knock on my door made me jump. My mother' s voice, stronger and healthier than I' d heard it in years, called out, "Eleanor, honey? Are you okay? You' ve been quiet."

I took a shaky breath, trying to steady my voice. "I' m fine, Mom. Just getting ready."

This time would be different. I wouldn't let Sophia win. I wouldn't be a pawn in her game. I knew the future, and that was my only weapon.

Later that evening, the doorbell rang. My heart hammered against my ribs. I stood at the top of the stairs, looking down as my mother opened the door to reveal the Thorne family. Mr. and Mrs. Thorne, their daughter Chloe, and him. Julian.

He looked younger, his arrogance not yet hardened by the cynicism I knew so well. He wore a tailored suit, his expression bored as he scanned our modest home. His eyes flickered up and met mine. There was no recognition, just a flicker of appraisal, and then dismissal. To him, I was just Sophia's stepsister, an obstacle in his evening.

Sophia rushed forward, her smile dazzling. "Julian! You' re here! Let me introduce you to my sister, Eleanor." She turned and gestured for me to come down.

I descended the stairs, my steps slow and deliberate. When I reached the bottom, Julian' s gaze swept over me again, a little more interested this time. Sophia' s smile tightened almost imperceptibly.

"Eleanor Vance," I said, extending my hand. My voice was steady, betraying none of the turmoil inside me.

Julian took my hand. His grip was firm, his touch sending a jolt of unwelcome familiarity through me. "Julian Thorne," he said, his tone cool. He held my hand a fraction of a second too long, a small act of possession, of challenge.

As we moved into the living room, he walked beside me, his voice a low murmur meant only for me. "So, you' re the brilliant architect Sophia can' t stop talking about." There was a mocking edge to his words. "She said you were ambitious. I hope for your sake you' re as smart as she claims."

The contempt was already there, laid bare. He saw me as a competitor, a social climber, exactly the image Sophia had carefully crafted for him. I pulled my hand away, a cold resolve settling over me. He thought he knew who I was. He had no idea.

I spent the rest of the night as a ghost, a silent observer in my own life. I watched Sophia charm Julian' s parents, watched Chloe, his sister, look at me with open disdain. I listened to Mr. Thorne talk about his infallible business instincts, mentioning the very tech companies I knew would be his ruin.

When they finally left, I went straight to my room, the oppressive weight of the evening crushing me. I had escaped one prison only to find myself at the gates of another. But this time, I wasn't the naive girl who could be so easily manipulated. This time, I knew all their secrets, and I would not spend another ten years as Eleanor Thorne. I would fight.