Chapter 1

The last thing I remembered was the cold, sterile light of the operating room, a sharp pain tearing through my abdomen, and the chilling indifference on my husband's face.

"Sign it, Ethan! The doctor says she's bleeding out. They need to perform the surgery to save her!" my own voice sounded distant, desperate.

Ethan Miller, the man I had loved and supported for eight years, just stood there, his arms crossed.

"The doctor said there's a risk to the baby," he stated, his voice flat. "I can't risk my daughter's life."

"There won't be a daughter if I die!" I screamed, a wave of agony making my vision blur. "The baby can't survive if I don't!"

Standing next to him, holding his hand, was my six-year-old stepson, Liam. His face, usually cherubic and sweet, was a mask of cold resentment.

"Dad," Liam said, his little voice sharp and clear. "Sophia said this woman is just faking it. She said if she dies, Sophia can be my new mom and take care of you and the baby."

The words hit me harder than the physical pain. My own stepson, a child I had raised as my own since he was two, was wishing for my death.

Ethan didn't scold him. He just squeezed Liam' s shoulder, a silent agreement. At that moment, Sophia Davis, Liam's beautiful young tutor, stepped into view, a triumphant smirk on her face as she placed a comforting hand on Ethan's back.

They never signed the papers.

I bled out on that operating table, my last sight being the three of them-Ethan, Liam, and Sophia-already looking like a happy family.

A sharp gasp for air.

My eyes flew open. I wasn't in a hospital. I was in my own bed, in my own master bedroom, the morning sun streaming through the silk curtains. My hand flew to my stomach. It was still there, a gentle, rounded swell. My baby girl was safe.

I grabbed my phone from the nightstand. The date stared back at me. It was the day. The day my life had started to unravel. The day Liam brought Sophia home.

I hadn't died. I was back.

The memory of my death wasn't a dream, it was a searing brand on my soul, a vivid, horrifying premonition of what was to come. The betrayal, the pain, the cold finality of it all.

A wave of nausea washed over me, but it wasn't from the pregnancy. It was from the rage, a cold, hard fury that settled deep in my bones. They would not kill me this time. They would not harm my daughter. This time, I would make them pay for a crime they hadn't committed yet.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

I heard the faint sound of the housekeeper opening the door, followed by the excited chatter of my stepson. My heart turned to ice. It was starting.

I got out of bed, my movements deliberate and calm. I walked out of my bedroom and stood at the top of the grand staircase, looking down.

There he was. My stepson, Liam, his face bright with a malicious glee that I now recognized. He was holding the hand of a young, attractive woman. Sophia Davis. She looked around my home, her eyes filled with undisguised greed and ambition.

"Dad! I brought my tutor home!" Liam yelled, spotting Ethan coming out of his study. "Miss Davis is here!"

Ethan' s face lit up with a smile that was far too warm for a man meeting his son's tutor for the first time. The affair had already begun. I was a fool not to see it before.

Liam then looked up and saw me standing at the top of the stairs. He pointed a small, accusatory finger at me.

"That's her," he said to Sophia, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. "But don't worry. Sophia, you're here now to take care of Dad and me. And the new baby."

Sophia gave me a condescending smile, a look of pure triumph. It was the same smile she wore as I died.

Ethan looked up at me, his expression unreadable but devoid of any concern for my feelings. He was waiting to see what I would do. In my previous life, I had screamed. I had demanded he throw this woman out. I had fought, cried, and shown them just how much they had hurt me. That fight had been the beginning of my end.

This time would be different.

The Olivia who cried was dead. The Olivia who stood before them now was a ghost, back for retribution.

A slow, cold smile spread across my face. It must have been unnerving, because Sophia's smug expression faltered for a second.

I descended the stairs gracefully, my hand resting protectively on my pregnant belly.

"Welcome, Miss Davis," I said, my voice smooth and placid. "It's so kind of you to come all this way."

Ethan and Sophia exchanged a confused look. This was not the reaction they expected.

I turned to my stepson.

"Liam, you must be so happy to have your tutor visit. Why don't you be a good host and show Miss Davis to the guest room? I'm sure she'd like to settle in."

Liam stared at me, his mouth slightly agape. He had wanted a fight, a drama he could use to prove how awful I was. I wasn't giving it to him.

"Go on," I prompted gently.

Ethan finally spoke, a hint of suspicion in his voice. "Olivia, are you alright?"

"I've never been better," I replied, my smile not reaching my eyes. "Now, I'm feeling a little tired. I think I'll go rest. You two get acquainted."

I turned and walked back up the stairs, leaving them standing in my foyer in stunned silence. Let them have the room. Let them have their little victory. They were celebrating a battle, but I was about to win the war. They had no idea who they were dealing with, but they were about to find out.