Chapter 2

The days following the disastrous engagement party were a suffocating replay of my past life' s misery. My father, Mr. Hayes, was completely enchanted by the drama Liam had caused over Bethany. He saw it as proof of her immense value.

"Two Blackwood brothers fighting over you!" he' d gushed at the dinner table, completely ignoring my presence. "Bethany, my dear, your gift is more powerful than I ever imagined."

Bethany soaked it all in, playing the part of the overwhelmed but gracious maiden. Her eyes would glisten with fake tears as she spoke of the difficult choice before her.

To further cement her position, Bethany made a show of her 'prophetic' gift. One morning, she clutched her head at the breakfast table, a pained expression on her face.

"Father," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I had a vision. A storm is coming. A freighter... it will be delayed. It carries the components for the new Blackwood chip. The delay will affect their stock price."

Mr. Hayes immediately got on the phone with his broker, his voice hushed with excitement. He was placing a bet, using his daughter' s "vision" as insider information. He didn' t even question it.

I couldn' t stand to watch the performance. I pushed my chair back and left the dining room without a word. The air in that house was thick with lies, and I needed to breathe. I walked out into the garden, the cool morning air a small relief. My foresight was a constant, low hum in the back of my mind. I knew the freighter Bethany mentioned would indeed be delayed, but not by a storm. It was a minor mechanical issue, a public piece of information she had likely overheard and twisted into a grand prophecy.

The news of the double engagement proposal, and Liam' s public rejection of me, had already spread like wildfire. My phone buzzed with notifications, articles painting me as the jilted, pathetic sister. Comment sections were brutal.

'Poor Ava. It must be humiliating.'

'Why would anyone choose her when they could have a real prophet like Bethany?'

'I heard she' s desperate. Probably tried to trap him.'

The narrative was already set, and I was the villain, or worse, the fool.

Liam, meanwhile, was playing his part to perfection. He sent Bethany extravagant bouquets of flowers daily, each one arriving with a dramatic flair that the paparazzi, conveniently tipped off, were always there to capture. He was publicly courting the "true prophetess," a romantic gesture that the public adored. He was crafting an image of a man who fought for true love and true power, casting me as the obstacle he had bravely overcome.

The weight of it all came crashing down on me that evening. My father summoned me to his study. The room was dark, filled with the scent of old leather and his disappointment.

"Ava," he began, his voice cold and hard. "I have seen the news. I have heard the talk. You are embarrassing this family."

"I' ve done nothing," I said, my voice flat.

"Nothing?" He scoffed, throwing a tablet onto his desk. The screen showed an article with a picture of a teary-eyed Bethany, Liam' s arm protectively around her. The headline read: 'A Love Destined by the Future.'

"You are making this difficult for Bethany. Your sour face at the party, your public rejection... it makes us look weak. People are saying you' re jealous, that you' re trying to sabotage your sister' s happiness."

"That isn' t true," I said, the words feeling useless before they even left my lips. "Bethany is the one-"

"Enough!" he roared, slamming his hand on the desk. "I will not hear another word against your sister. Bethany has a gift. A real, tangible gift that is elevating this family to new heights. You have nothing but your bitterness. Liam' s rejection of you was a blessing. He saw you for what you are."

My heart felt like a cold, dead stone in my chest. In my past life, these words had shattered me. I had cried, I had begged him to see me, to believe in me. Now, I just felt a profound, chilling emptiness. The man who was supposed to protect me was my first and most cruel tormentor.

"I' m sorry you feel that way, Father," I said, my voice devoid of emotion.

His eyes narrowed at my lack of a reaction. He wanted tears. He wanted me to break. I wouldn' t give him the satisfaction.

"You will stay out of the public eye," he commanded. "You will make no statements. You will do nothing to further tarnish this family' s name while we finalize Bethany' s engagement to a Blackwood. Whichever one she chooses."

I simply nodded and walked out of the study, his angry, frustrated breathing following me down the hall.

The next day, the news broke that Blackwood Industries' stock had dipped slightly due to a minor shipping delay. Bethany' s "prophecy" was hailed as a stunning success. She was on the cover of a business magazine, hailed as 'The Oracle of Wall Street.' The lie was growing bigger, stronger, and more dangerous. And I knew, with a chilling certainty that came from my real, agonizing foresight, that this was just the beginning. A much larger crash was coming.