MY CHOICE OF JEWEL

MOLLY'S POV

The night was louder than any storm I'd ever known.

The sharp crack of gunfire ripped through the air, mingling with the roar of flames devouring everything I had ever called home.

My family's empire, the Henry's, rulers of the underworld for generations, was collapsing in one night. Betrayal. That was the only explanation. Someone close had slit our throats from within.

I moved swiftly through the corridors of our fortress, my boots slipping on shattered marble floors. My laptop was clutched tightly against my chest, its weight strangely comforting. It held pieces of me, my codes, my programs, my keys to every door in the digital world. I was Jane, the hacker that even governments whispered about. And yet... tonight, I was powerless.

My father's voice still rang in my ears from moments earlier, "Run, Molly!"

But I hadn't. I had fought. And now I was bleeding.

A sharp sting tore at my side. My fingers came away red. Warmth spread quickly, draining me with every step. I staggered, forcing myself onward, my pride refusing to collapse so easily.

The hallway shook as an explosion ripped through the eastern wing. The ground trembled beneath me. My vision swam, blurring the line between light and darkness. I could hear them, our enemies, closing in.

"Is this it?" I whispered to no one. My lips curled into a bitter smile. "So this is how the princess of the underworld dies..."

Not with a crown. Not with vengeance. But with betrayal, fire, and silence.

The world tilted. My knees buckled. My laptop slipped from my grasp, clattering to the ground, its screen cracked. My chest heaved once, twice, and then... nothing.

Darkness swallowed me whole.

I thought death would be eternal silence. Instead, I woke to blinding light.

My lungs drew in air so sweet and cloying it almost hurt. My eyes darted open, staring at a ceiling painted in soft pastel colors. My body felt wrong, too light, too delicate. The sterile smell of disinfectant mixed with the faint scent of expensive perfume.

I sat up abruptly, panic clawing at my throat. My hand flew to my chest, but the wound was gone. Smooth skin met my touch. No blood. No scar. Nothing.

A gasp pulled my attention. "Miss Molly Henry! You, you're awake!"

A woman in a nurse's uniform rushed toward me, her eyes wide with relief. "You've been in a coma for a year. Everyone thought you might never open your eyes again."

A coma? My mind reeled. That didn't make sense. I died. I felt the life drain out of me, felt the fire licking at my skin. And yet... here I was. Breathing. Whole.

I staggered off the bed and nearly collapsed from the weakness in my limbs. The nurse tried to steady me, but I shoved her hand away and stumbled toward the window. My reflection in the glass froze me where I stood.

It wasn't me.

The face staring back was young, delicate, and unfamiliar. Henry's hair spilled down like silk, framing eyes that shimmered with innocence I'd never possessed. The features were soft, almost doll-like, belonging to someone pampered and sheltered.

My throat tightened.

"No... this isn't me."

But memories I didn't own surged into my head like a flood.

Parties drowned in flashing lights. Paparazzi shouting a name that wasn't mine. Fans screaming, crying, reaching out as if for salvation. And at the center of it all, a girl. Beautiful, reckless, spoiled. A celebrity who laughed too loudly, drank too freely, and lived carelessly. Molly Henry.

My breath caught.

Somehow, impossibly, I had been reborn in her body.

For a moment, I just stared at my reflection, stunned. And then, slowly, I began to laugh. A low, dangerous laugh that did not belong to the brat this body once was.

"So this is my second life? From the princess of the underworld... to a washed-up teenage idol? Interesting."

The nurse looked horrified. "Miss Molly...? Are you feeling alright?"

I turned to her with a smile, sharper than any blade. "Better than alright."

Because for the first time in my life, I wasn't bound by the shackles of the Henry's family's bloody empire. No rules. No chains. No obligations.

This was my chance. My freedom.

And I swore, as I touched the cold glass, staring at the stranger who was now me, that I would live this life on my own terms.

But I could feel it already. Fate was cruel. Somewhere out there, a man's shadow loomed closer, the one name whispered in fear even outside the underworld. Kelvin Brass.

And somehow, I knew... my story with him was about to begin.

MOLLY'S POV

My body still felt foreign when the doctors finally declared me "stable." Stable? If only they knew who now lived inside this delicate shell.

The original Molly Henry, had been nothing more than a spoiled brat. A party princess who sang, danced, drank, and clung shamelessly to a man who never once looked at her, Kelvin Brass's younger brother. That memory disgusted me. If I had inherited her body, I had also inherited her humiliations.

But I wasn't her. Not anymore.

When the nurse left to fetch my attending physician, I dragged myself to the bathroom and locked the door. Staring at my reflection again, I whispered, "This is my second chance. My rules now."

My fingers trailed over the counter. My mind was already racing with calculations. To survive in this life, I needed two things: freedom and power. I had been given the first, but the second? That I would have to earn.

A knock at the door startled me. "Miss Molly, please... Mr. Kelvin has arrived."

I frowned. Mr. Kelvin?

When I stepped out, the hallway was filled with tension so sharp it sliced the air in half. Doctors, nurses, even bodyguards stood stiff and silent. And there, at the center of it all, stood a man I had only seen in the inherited memories of this body.

Tall. Impeccably dressed in a black suit tailored within an inch of perfection. His presence alone seemed to bend the room around him. Eyes sharp as cold steel swept over everything, calculating, dismissing, commanding.

Kelvin Brass.

The most powerful man in the country's business world. The one people compared to an emperor. Cold, ruthless, unreachable. The man no one dared offend.

And also, apparently, the man whose younger brother this body's former owner used to chase like a lovesick fool.

His gaze landed on me.

My heart did a strange flip in my chest. Not out of attraction, at least not yet, but because his eyes were unlike any I'd ever seen. They weren't just cold. They were empty. The eyes of someone who had buried his heart long ago.

"Molly," he said, his voice deep, steady, almost frightening in its calm. "So you've finally woken up."

The weight of his stare pressed on me, heavy, suffocating. I understood why everyone feared him. This man wasn't just powerful. He was dangerous.

In the body's old memories, the former Molly would have blushed, stammered, maybe even tried to cling to him to get closer to his brother.

But I was not her.

I lifted my chin, meeting his gaze without flinching. "Yes. I suppose I have."

For a fraction of a second, his expression shifted. Surprise? Intrigue? It was gone before I could be sure.

"You've been in a coma for a year," he said, stepping closer. His presence was overwhelming, like standing before a predator who could decide whether you lived or died. "People doubted you would ever wake."

"People doubt a lot of things," I replied evenly. "But doubt doesn't decide my fate. I do."

Silence fell between us. A sharp, electric silence.

Something flickered in his eyes. His lips almost curved, but didn't. And in that moment, I realized something astonishing.

I had moved him. Even if just slightly, I had cracked through the armor of kelvin Brass.

The nurse shifted nervously in the background, probably expecting me to embarrass myself like the old Molly would have. But I stood tall, letting the silence stretch, refusing to yield to the intimidation radiating from him.

Finally, he spoke again. "You've changed."

It wasn't a question. It was an observation.

A slow, deliberate smile touched my lips. "Perhaps. Or maybe this is who I've been all along."

For the first time, his eyes softened. Just a fraction. And for reasons I couldn't explain, that tiny shift made my pulse quicken.

The devil in the suit was watching me with interest. And somehow, I knew, my life had just become infinitely more complicated.

MOLLY'S POV

The room emptied quickly after his arrival, as if his presence alone pushed the air out of everyone's lungs. Within minutes, only Kelvin and I remained.

He studied me in silence, hands tucked into his pockets, a man carved from stillness and command. The longer he stared, the more I sensed it, he wasn't here just out of curiosity. He was measuring me.

"You really aren't the same girl," he said at last.

I tilted my head. "And is that a problem?"

His eyes narrowed slightly, the faintest edge of danger slicing through the calm. "It depends. If you plan to return to your old habits, humiliating yourself and chasing after my brother..." His voice dropped, colder than ice. "Then it is."

I almost laughed. So this was it, the infamous Jin Liwei, delivering a warning to the woman I now inhabited.

"Don't worry," I said, my lips curving. "I have no intention of chasing anyone. Least of all your brother."

Something flickered across his face. Not relief, not irritation, something harder to read.

He stepped closer, and I resisted the instinct to move back. His shadow fell over me, commanding, suffocating. "Then remember this, Miss Molly," he said softly, lethally. "In this city, every move you make is watched. Don't step where you can't survive."

I held his gaze, refusing to look away. My voice came out calm, almost mocking. "Survival has always been my specialty."

The silence between us crackled. For a heartbeat, I thought he might smile. Instead, he turned, his coat shifting with quiet elegance.

"Good," he murmured. And just like that, he walked away, leaving me standing there with my pulse racing.

I pressed a hand against my chest, my lips curling in a smirk.

So the devil himself decided to warn me. Interesting.

If he thought I'd be intimidated, he was wrong.

This was my second life. And I intended to play it by my rules, devils included.

The news of my "miraculous awakening" spread faster than wildfire. By the time I was discharged, reporters were already camping outside the hospital, hungry for a scandal.

In the past, the old Molly would have loved this posing dramatically, shouting for attention, giving them something ridiculous to gossip about.

But I wasn't her.

The moment I stepped outside, microphones and flashing lights swarmed me. Questions flew like arrows.

"Miss Molly, how does it feel to wake up after a year?"

"Will you continue your music career?"

"Are the rumors about your mental health true?"

I adjusted the sunglasses on my face and walked straight past them. Not a single word. Not a single glance. Just silence.

The crowd gasped. Silence was something Molly had never given them.

I could hear the whispers already.

"She didn't even yell?"

"She looked... calm."

"Is that really Molly?"

Good. "Let them doubt", I said to myself.

At home, the shock continued. The staff stiffened when I entered, waiting for tantrums, insults, maybe a wine glass thrown across the room. Instead, I simply said, "Thank you for taking care of the place," as I walked upstairs.

Their mouths fell open.

I almost laughed. Did they really think I'd waste my second life on screaming matches with maids?

In the mirror of my new bedroom, I studied myself again. The soft face. The delicate frame. The image of a spoiled child. But behind the eyes, there was me, harder, sharper, untamed.

They all thought Molly is back from a coma. No. She is gone.

Soon, everyone would realize that the woman standing in her place is someone entirely different.

I touched the glass, my reflection smirking back.

"My first step," I whispered. "Now watch me walk."