Chapter 2 The proposal I'll never Accept

They say every girl remembers the moment she's proposed to the way his eyes shine, the promise in his voice, the rush of dreams crashing down like fireworks.

I remembered mine too.

Not because it was magical.

But because it was the beginning of my end.

---

The Question That Should've Killed Me

Richard's words hung in the air like a noose.

"Elena Dawson, marry me."

In my first life, my heart had leapt. I'd been twenty-two, foolish, and desperate to believe in love. Tears had blurred my vision as I whispered yes, blind to the truth that the man on one knee would gut my family's fortune, my father's company, and eventually, my very soul.

Now, sitting across from him in the same charming little café, sunlight spilling across the table and the smell of coffee thick in the air, those same words spilled from his lips with that same confident smile.

But this time, my heart stayed cold. My pulse steady. My mind sharp.

I looked at his hand resting dramatically over mine. The practiced tilt of his chin. The soft glint in his hazel eyes that once seemed like molten gold.

So many women would have swooned.

I once did.

Now, all I saw was a wolf dressed in silk.

I slipped my hand free, slow and deliberate.

His smile faltered, the faintest tremor in his composure. "Elena?"

I leaned back, lifted my teacup, and took a slow sip. Jasmine floral, calming, grounding. It gave me the composure I needed to speak without venom. "You move awfully fast, Richard. We've barely known each other a month."

"A month is enough," he insisted, leaning forward. His voice had that smooth, intoxicating lilt I once thought irresistible. "When you know, you know. Don't you feel it too? That we're meant for each other?"

Fate? Destiny?

The only fate I'd met with him was betrayal.

"You flatter me," I said instead, my tone soft and coy, the way he wanted me to be. "But marriage is... a serious commitment. Shouldn't we take time to know one another first?"

His eyes narrowed, just for a flicker, before he painted on that charming grin again. "Elena, don't you trust me?"

No.

Not anymore. Not ever again.

---

His Lies, My Memory

In my first life, this was where he'd pulled out the velvet box a modest ring, not flashy, just humble enough to make me believe he was genuine. He'd told me he didn't need riches or status, only me.

And I, fool that I was, believed him.

He'd spun tales of forever, of partnership, of love that conquered every storm.

I'd looked into those eyes and thought I saw honesty.

But now? Now I remembered everything that came after.

The way he'd driven a wedge between me and my father.

The lies he whispered that my mother didn't approve of him.

The nights he disappeared, "working late," while I sat in an empty house built on deceit.

And the worst part the day he convinced me to sign away Dawson Holdings, my father's legacy, into his own hands.

All because I trusted him.

My stomach twisted at the memory. I forced a serene smile anyway.

"Trust is earned, Richard. Don't you agree?"

He blinked, surprised. Then, regaining his composure, he gave a soft, indulgent laugh. "And how do I earn it?"

By dying and staying dead, I thought darkly.

But aloud, I said, "Time. Patience. Effort. If you're serious about me, prove it."

He smiled again, but this time, his eyes flickered calculating, weighing the situation. Richard Hale was many things, but patient was never one of them.

---

A Calculated Refusal

Richard wasn't used to being denied.

I could see it in the faint tension along his jaw, the tight curl of his fingers against his cup. He hid it well, but I noticed everything now.

He reached for my hand again, firmer this time. "Elena, I don't want to waste time. I love you."

My lips almost curved into a bitter smile.

Love. He loved my last name, my family's power, my father's connections the keys to doors he could never open alone.

But I widened my eyes just slightly, playing the innocent girl he expected. "Love is a strong word."

"It's the right word," he pressed, leaning closer. "You feel it too. I can see it when you look at me."

Ah, the arrogance.

In my first life, I mistook it for confidence. Now, I saw it for what it was entitlement dressed as charm.

I let him hold my hand for one heartbeat longer before withdrawing. "You'll have to forgive me, Richard. I'm not ready to give you an answer."

His smile froze. "Not ready?"

"Marriage is forever," I said lightly, tilting my head. "Don't you want me to be absolutely certain? Don't you want me to walk into it without doubt?"

He studied me for a long, quiet moment, his gaze assessing. Then, slowly, his lips curved again. "Of course. You're right."

The charm was back, but I could feel the strain behind it. "But I'll win your heart, Elena. You'll see."

I sipped my tea to hide my smirk.

Not this time, Richard. Never again.

---

My Silent Vow

That evening, the sky bled into gold and violet as I stood before the mirror in my room.

The woman staring back was the same same eyes, same lips, same delicate features but her expression was different.

Sharper. Steadier. Smarter.

The girl who had once fallen for Richard Hale was gone.

I pressed my palms against the glass, staring into my own reflection.

"I won't let you destroy me again."

This was my vow.

I would not marry Richard Hale.

I would not let him ruin my family or my life.

I had ten years of pain, betrayal, and death etched into memory and I would use every bit of it to change my fate.

---

The Gala

The following night, my parents insisted we attend the annual charity gala at the Grand Royale Hotel.

In my first life, that night had passed in a blur just another glittering social event full of laughter and shallow conversations.

But now, I knew better.

This was the night everything began to change.

The ballroom shimmered under golden chandeliers, marble floors gleaming like mirrors. Music floated through the air soft, elegant, and utterly forgettable. Guests sparkled in diamonds and designer suits, a sea of smiles masking greed.

I walked beside my mother, holding her arm, the crimson silk of my gown trailing behind me. Heads turned as we entered, though most of the admiration went to her Grace Dawson, society's beloved matron. Beside her, my father moved easily among his peers, confident and proud.

"Elena, darling," my mother murmured, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. "Smile. You look like you're plotting murder."

If only you knew.

I gave her a quick, dutiful smile. "Just nervous, Mama. Too many people."

She chuckled softly. "You've always hated crowds. I sometimes wonder how you'll ever manage the attention that comes with being a Hale."

My pulse spiked. Not in this lifetime.

I bit back the words and followed her deeper into the glittering crowd.

Every smile I gave was measured. Every laugh was practiced.

Inside, I was calculating watching the alliances, the glances, the whispers. The people Richard would one day manipulate. Not again. Not while I breathed.

And then, the air shifted.

It wasn't a sound. It wasn't even movement.

It was... presence.

I looked up and there he was.

Across the room, tall and commanding in a perfectly tailored black suit, stood a man who seemed to exist in another dimension entirely.

The crowd parted around him unconsciously, as though he carried gravity itself.

Broad shoulders. Sculpted features. Eyes steel-gray and unreadable locked on me with a focus that cut through the noise of the entire ballroom.

Alexander Knight.

Even now, the name sent a ripple through my memory. In my first life, he had been a shadow on the edges of society a man of impossible wealth and colder reputation. A king who ruled from behind closed doors. The kind of man others respected in whispers.

He'd attended that same gala before.

I remembered catching a glimpse of him that night... and looking away.

Back then, I hadn't known he would one day become both my family's savior and Richard's greatest rival.

I hadn't known that his empire would quietly swallow everything Richard tried to steal.

But this time, I looked back.

And didn't look away.

The chatter around me faded.

The music dimmed.

All that existed was the weight of his gaze steady, unflinching, curious.

He didn't smile.

He didn't nod.

He simply watched me, as though he could see right through me to the woman I had been, to the woman I was becoming.

For the first time since waking up in this second chance, I felt my pulse race not from fear, but from awareness.

Danger. Power. Possibility.

"Elena?" my mother's voice cut through the spell. "Darling, are you all right?"

I blinked, forcing a breath. "I'm fine, Mama. Just... warm."

But my eyes betrayed me, sliding back across the room.

He was gone.

I scanned the crowd, searching for that dark silhouette but Alexander Knight had vanished, like smoke into the golden air.

---

My breath caught as I turned toward the balcony doors, the night air glinting with city lights beyond. And there half-hidden in shadow stood the same man, glass in hand, gaze fixed on me once more.

The crowd swayed and laughed between us, but his eyes never left mine.

For a heartbeat, I could've sworn he smiled.

Not kindly. Not coldly.

Just knowingly.

For the first time since my rebirth, I felt it that tremor of destiny shifting course.

Alexander Knight was watching me.

And something told me...

He already knew I wasn't the same Elena Dawson anymore.