Chapter 1

The sharp, sterile smell of antiseptic filled my nose, a scent I knew all too well. It was the smell of my previous life's end. But this time, I wasn't lying broken in a dark alley. I was standing in the grand, sunlit foyer of Senator Maxwell' s mansion, the classical music from the garden party a faint, mocking melody in the background. My husband, Professor Ethan Thorne, was adjusting his tie in the hall mirror, his reflection showing a handsome, ambitious man. To anyone else, he was a rising star in academia. To me, he was my future murderer.

"Liv, are you ready? Holly is already in the garden with the other faculty members. We can' t be late to greet the Senator," Ethan said, his voice smooth and persuasive.

He turned to me, his smile perfectly crafted, but his eyes held a familiar, cold calculation. He thought I was his naive, trusting wife, the talented musician who lived only for her art and for him. He was wrong. The woman he knew was dead, her memory a ghost that now haunted me, fueled me.

"I' m coming," I said, my voice steady, betraying none of the storm raging inside me.

Just hours ago, in what felt like another lifetime, I was bleeding out in a cold, forgotten alley. The plan had gone horribly wrong. Their brilliant scheme to have his colleague and lover, Holly Summers, "save" the Senator' s granddaughter had backfired. Lily Maxwell, the sweet, innocent child they used as a pawn, wasn't just scared; she was permanently disfigured by the fire they had set. And me? I had figured it out too late. I had tried to intervene, to save Lily myself. For my efforts, Ethan' s accomplices had cornered me after the chaos. They beat me, leaving me for dead, while my husband watched from the shadows before walking away. His final words to them echoed in my mind. "Make sure she doesn' t talk."

I remembered the searing pain, the taste of blood, the final, chilling realization of his betrayal. I had loved this man, trusted him with my life, and he had thrown it away for a chance at prestige and wealth.

But then, a blinding light. A wrenching pull. And I woke up, gasping for air, in my own bed. The sun was streaming through the window, the date on my phone confirming the impossible. It was the morning of the garden party. The day it all began. I had been given a second chance. Not for love, not for happiness, but for justice.

Now, standing before him, I saw him not as my husband, but as a monster wearing a familiar face. I saw the web of deceit he and Holly had woven. Holly Summers, with her charming smile and venomous ambition, was his partner in every sense. They thought they were so clever, using my gentle nature and my connection to music-I had been Lily' s private tutor-to get close to the Senator' s family. They planned to create a minor, controlled "accident" where Holly could swoop in and be the hero, earning the eternal gratitude of a powerful man.

My past self had been their perfect tool. My future self would be their downfall.

"You look a little pale, Liv. Are you feeling alright?" Ethan asked, his brow furrowed with fake concern. He placed a hand on my arm, and I had to fight every instinct to recoil. His touch felt like a brand.

"Just a headache," I lied, forcing a weak smile. "The pressure of playing for a Senator, I guess."

He chuckled, a low, condescending sound. "Don' t worry, my love. You' ll be wonderful. Just be yourself. Everyone loves you."

Everyone but you, I thought. He was so confident in his manipulation, so certain of my devotion. He couldn't see the ghost in my eyes, the cold, hard resolve that had replaced the adoration he was used to. He saw his pawn, his stepping stone. He had no idea he was looking at the woman who would orchestrate his ruin. The game had just been reset, but this time, I was the one writing the rules.