Our families were merging their trusts, and an alliance was required. When my older brother asked me who I wanted to choose, I didn't hesitate. I chose my arrogant, playboy childhood best friend: Cole Harrington. Yet, after we married, he kept his first love strung along. They even ended up having a child together. When his wealthy friends joked about his infidelity, Cole just scoffed. "Vivienne Vance is the world’s biggest doormat. No matter what I do to her, she’ll never leave." My heart finally died. I packed my things and walked away, only to end up in a horrific pile-up on the interstate. Two lives were lost that night—mine, and the baby I was carrying. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the evening of the engagement gala. Chapter 1 "Vivi, have you decided who you want to choose?" my brother, Wyatt, asked gently. I stood frozen, trembling from head to toe, completely unable to process that I had actually been reborn. Before I could answer, Mrs. Harrington stepped right up to me, slipping a priceless vintage estate ring onto my finger. She smiled warmly. "Vivi will definitely pick our rotten boy. They grew up together, thick as thieves. No one can compare to their bond." "Mom, are you drunk without touching a drop?" Cole sneered, his brow furrowing as he looked at me. "Who wants to marry Vivienne? Her grades were awful, she’s short, and her looks are painfully average. Marry her? She’d taint the Harrington gene pool." His gaze was laced with a deep, unmistakable disgust. It was the exact same venomous tongue as my past life. Back then, I was so blinded by love I thought it was just our usual childhood banter. I never realized that Cole genuinely despised me. Snapping out of my daze, I immediately took two steps back. "Mrs. Harrington... Cole and I are just friends." The words dropped, and the bustling ballroom went dead silent. Everyone in elite society knew the Vances and Harringtons were century-old allies. And everyone knew I had been hopelessly in love with Cole Harrington since we were kids. Mrs. Harrington’s smile stiffened. She pulled her eyes away from me and sharply slapped her son’s shoulder. "Stop talking nonsense! If our family manages to marry Vivi, it means we hit the absolute jackpot." Cole clearly hadn't expected me to reject him. His already icy expression dropped a few degrees colder. My hands shook as I tugged at Wyatt’s tuxedo jacket. My eyes were red. "I don't feel well," I whispered. "I want to go home." The corporate marriage wasn't urgent. Wyatt immediately raised his hand to summon his driver. But in the next second, Cole grabbed my wrist. He practically dragged me toward the exit, his voice hard. "Wyatt, I’ll take Vivi home myself." His grip was like a vice; I couldn't pry his fingers off. I wanted to call out for help, but when I looked back, Mrs. Harrington had expertly stepped in front of my brother to block his path. The moment we stepped out of the hotel doors, Cole ruthlessly threw my hand away. Off-balance, my high heels betrayed me. I stumbled backward. Out of pure instinct, I reached my hand out toward him to catch myself. Cole hadn't anticipated the fall. He reached out to grab me, but my reflexes kicked in faster. I violently yanked my hand back and crashed hard onto the concrete pavement. A sharp, shooting pain radiated up my spine. My face twisted in agony. Cole’s expression shifted. He stepped forward to help me up. "Don't come near me," I snapped without a second of hesitation. Catching my breath, I unbuckled the designer stilettos, pushed myself off the ground with my bare hands, and stood up. My reaction turned Cole’s face completely dark. He sneered, "What kind of game is this? Playing hard to get? Vivienne, since when did your tricks get so pathetic?" I looked up at him. Without realizing it, tears had pooled in my eyes. "Cole..." There was so much I wanted to say, so much pain I wanted to hurl at him. But meeting his eyes—seeing that same profound disgust—every word felt like a fishbone lodged in my throat. I looked down and let out a broken laugh. Before he could speak again, I threw the ten-thousand-dollar heels onto the pavement, turned my back, and walked away barefoot without a single ounce of hesitation. Those shoes were a coming-of-age gift from Cole. Mrs. Harrington had told me he spent weeks picking them out. Knowing how important tonight's gala was, I specifically chose to wear them. But I forgot that the shoes were a half-size too big. They didn't belong to me. Just like I forgot that forcing a fit with the wrong person will never work out. Chapter 2 Cole didn't chase after me. To him, this was just another calculated, manipulative stunt to get his attention. When I finally got home, I climbed into the bathtub, feeling entirely drained. My mind was a hurricane, spinning with every horrific event from my past life. My hands clamped down on the edges of the porcelain tub, shaking uncontrollably. The water slowly crept over my nose, and I choked violently, coughing up water as I scrambled out of the tub, finally fully awake. I wrapped myself in a robe and stared at the mirror. This face had no burn scars. It was flawless. I touched my cheeks, bowed my head, and began to sob hysterically. In my past life, the Harrington estate caught fire. Cole didn't hesitate; he scooped up his first love, his "golden girl," and carried her out to safety, leaving me behind. I was left trapped in the flames. By the time the firefighters pulled me out, my face was irreparably destroyed. Afterward, Cole explained it away. "I didn't see you. Chloe’s legs were pinned under a beam, and the fire was spreading too fast. I had to save her first." Remembering that, I raised my hand and slapped myself hard across the cheek. It was laughable. I was as stupid as a dog in that life, played like a fiddle by Cole’s empty excuses. Maybe because the shock of rebirth was so heavy, I tossed and turned all night, trapped in nightmares of the past. When I woke up the next morning, my entire body ached with exhaustion. Perhaps noticing something was wrong last night, Wyatt—who usually left for the corporate office at dawn—was sitting downstairs waiting for me. "Come eat breakfast since you're up." Wyatt looked at the dark circles under my eyes, a flash of deep heartache crossing his face. "Did I wake you up when I came in late last night?" I shook my head, my eyes watering as I sprinted into his arms. I hugged my brother with everything I had. Wyatt froze for a second, then set his newspaper down and gently patted my back. He spoke softly. "If loving the Harrington boy is too exhausting, then stop loving him, okay? Even if you never marry in this lifetime, I can take care of you forever." I sniffled, choking back a sob. The truth was, the families didn't strictly need an alliance. Wyatt had just noticed how deeply I loved Cole, so he paved the road for me. Remembering how Wyatt had died taking a bullet for me in my past life, my chest tightened with agonizing pain. I hugged him even tighter. Until a light cough broke the silence. I turned my head, my eyes still red. I hadn't noticed a man sitting on the adjacent sofa. With tears blurring my vision, I couldn't make out his face at first. The man smirked. "Good morning, Princess." I blinked in shock, quickly stepping out of Wyatt’s arms as I recognized Liam Sullivan. He was Wyatt’s closest friend. In my past life, after my brother was murdered, it was Liam who hunted down the killer and beat him to death with his bare hands. The last time I saw him, he was behind the glass in a state penitentiary. He told me he wanted to take me away. He told me Wyatt’s death wasn't a simple kidnapping. But I was blinded by love. I genuinely believed that Cole, a man I had known for decades, could never be involved in something so sinister. By the time I realized Liam was right, I was bleeding out on the interstate. In a daze, I also remembered the very last voice I heard before I died. "Why are you here?" I blurted out in shock. At this hour, Liam should have been dead to the world, sleeping off another wild night of partying. Liam raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "Ahem," Wyatt cleared his throat, gesturing toward the breakfast spread. I nodded, sat down, and started eating, sneaking glances at the man behind me every so often. After a few bites, Wyatt hesitated before asking, "Vivi, did Cole do something to upset you recently?" I looked at my brother, not quite understanding. Wyatt unlocked his phone and pulled up Cole’s latest Instagram story. It was a photo of a foggy mountain peak at dawn. The caption read: "What do I do? I made the princess angry. How do I coax her back?" My fingers clamped around my spoon, my entire body trembling with a rage I couldn't suppress. In my past life, it was this exact post that tricked me into believing Cole actually cared about me. It wasn't until much later I discovered that his "princess" was his first love, Chloe Jenkins. It was never me. The warm oatmeal suddenly tasted like wax. I couldn't swallow it. I lowered my eyes, my voice shaking. "Wyatt, I don't want to talk about Cole ever again." In this life, I wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. The twenty years I spent loving him was nothing but pathetic, unrequited delusion. Wyatt paused. He didn't say a word. He just opened his text thread with Cole—a thread where Wyatt had been asking him if I made it home safe—and ruthlessly blocked and deleted the contact. He smiled warmly. "As long as your brother is around, you will never suffer a single grievance." Tears welled in my eyes again. Wyatt was always like this. He chose me without hesitation. When I loved Cole, he built the bridge. When I hated him, he'd gladly burn it down. Chapter 3 After breakfast, Wyatt took me to his corporate headquarters. Originally, I was supposed to inherit the company. But because I was so obsessed with marrying Cole, I wanted to dedicate all my time to him. I practically never showed up to work, which caused massive operational issues. Wyatt had to abandon his ventures in Europe just to come back and clean up my mess. The employees all knew about my obsession with Cole. As I walked through the lobby, an assistant covertly tried to hand me a limited-edition movie poster of Cole. Before I could even react, a hand shot out, snatched the poster, crushed it into a ball, and tossed it into the nearest trash can. I looked up. It was Liam. Wyatt’s voice rang out coolly. "From this day forward, no merchandise or mention of Cole Harrington is permitted in this building." It hit me then—I had almost forgotten that Cole was an A-list Hollywood actor. Once we got into the executive office, Wyatt instructed his assistant, "Pass the word down. Tear down any posters of Cole Harrington in the breakrooms. And also..." "Wyatt, you don't have to go that far," I interrupted. After all, Vance Corp still had massive business dealings with the Harringtons. Wyatt saw through my worry. He shook his head with a light laugh. "I told you, you won't suffer any grievances." With a wave of his hand, he sent the assistant off to execute the order. Wyatt had to step out for an emergency board meeting, leaving just me and Liam in the massive office. I didn't actually interact much with Liam. The only thing I knew about him was that he had been hopelessly in love with a girl for years, but couldn't have her because she loved someone else. Feeling his intense gaze on me, I awkwardly looked away. A moment later, my phone buzzed in my purse. I pulled it out, stared at the screen for three seconds, and hung up without hesitation. Liam raised a brow, amused. "Not gonna answer?" "Spam call," I said, my face dropping into a scowl. A second later, a text popped up: [I'm sick. Bring me medicine.] Followed immediately by a hotel room number. I stared at the screen, my brow furrowing deeply, completely oblivious that Liam had stood up and walked over. By the time I noticed, Liam was smirking over my shoulder. "Well, well. Who's sending our princess hotel room numbers?" My situational awareness was usually top-tier. In the past, I could sense Cole walking into a room before I even saw him. But this time, I jumped, clutching my chest as I gasped for air. Liam seemed equally surprised by my severe reaction. He grabbed a bottle of water and handed it to me, though he couldn't resist a jab. "That room number looks familiar. Isn't that the Harrington golden boy's permanent suite at the Ritz?" Every heir in our circle had a dedicated suite at the top hotels. Cole’s room was always 0726. In my past life, I never thought twice about it. But now, it clicked with sickening clarity. July 26th. Chloe’s birthday. My fingers began to tremble violently. Liam, who had been teasing me just a second ago, instantly sensed the shift. His smirk vanished, replaced by a dark frown. "What is it? Did that Harrington punk put his hands on you?" "I might not be good at corporate politics," Liam added, his voice dropping low, "but I'm excellent at breaking bones." I shook my head quickly, then immediately blocked and deleted Cole’s number. "He's an insignificant person now. It's not worth getting into trouble over someone who doesn't matter," I said, looking up at Liam. His eyes were incredibly intense, holding a flirtatious depth that made my face flush. Liam clearly didn't believe me, but he didn't push it. Chapter 4 Back in suite 0726, Cole was waiting for his medicine. Yesterday, someone had witnessed our fight outside the gala, and the elite group chats were having a field day. [Ooh, trouble in paradise? The childhood sweethearts breaking up?] [The Vance princess looked genuinely pissed this time.] [Cole, stop pissing Vivi off. If she actually stops caring about you one day, you’ll cry yourself to sleep.] Reading the messages, Cole let out a cold, arrogant scoff. He had known Vivienne since they were toddlers. He knew her personality inside and out. Once she showed up with the medicine, he’d buy her a cheap designer trinket, and she’d immediately go back to being his pathetic, loyal puppy. They had played this game a thousand times. He was genuinely getting bored of it. He lounged on the velvet sofa, scrolling through TikTok for over half an hour, but his medicine never arrived. The group chat was still popping off, people asking if she had come crawling back yet. The relentless teasing finally struck a nerve. Cole aggressively closed the app, opened his pinned contacts, and dialed her number. Call failed. He froze. He stared at the screen, bewildered, and dialed again. Call failed. The young heir of the Harrington empire had never been blocked a day in his life. He didn't even know what the dial tone meant. He had to Google it. When he read the search results, he sat entirely paralyzed for a full minute. When reality finally set in, his face contorted in rage. He hurled his brand-new iPhone against the marble floor, shattering it into a dozen pieces. "Vivienne Vance. You’ve got nerve." Miles away, I had no idea what kind of tantrum Cole was throwing, and frankly, I couldn't care less. By the time Wyatt finished his board meeting, it was past noon. Liam stretched lazily and suggested, "Let's get hotpot. I'm craving it." I looked at Liam. Whenever I was in a terrible mood, I loved eating insanely spicy hotpot. I would eat until my lips went numb so I wouldn't have the brain capacity to think about my miserable life. Cole had definitely ruined my morning, but right now, I felt surprisingly free. Wyatt didn't know the context, but seeing I had no objections, he told his assistant to book a table for three. We went to our usual high-end spot. Walking through the doors, a wave of nostalgia hit me. In my past life, when I got pregnant, Cole claimed spicy food would stunt the baby’s development. For nine excruciating months, I wasn't allowed to touch a single drop of chili oil. To hell with Cole Harrington. To hell with his rules. The moment we sat down, I ordered everything on the menu, telling the manager, "I want the broth entirely spicy. Extra spicy. Lethal." It was the first time I had ever shown such a fiery temper. Even the manager looked a bit shocked. Suddenly, I remembered Wyatt telling me once that Liam couldn't handle spice at all. I quickly corrected myself, "Wait, make it a split pot, please." We were seated in a private VIP room, so I didn't have to worry about maintaining the elegant socialite facade. When the food arrived, I dove in, practically inhaling the beef. Wyatt shot Liam a curious look, communicating silently. Liam just waved his hand dismissively. But midway through the meal, a loud commotion erupted outside our private doors. I hated loud noises. Hearing the shouting, my face instantly scrunched up. Seeing my reaction, Liam raised a hand and flagged down the manager. "I'm buying out the restaurant for the rest of the afternoon. Let the current guests finish, but don't seat anyone else. It's getting too loud." He pulled out a sleek black Amex card. The manager didn't take it. He looked terrified. "Mr. Sullivan... it’s the Harrington boy. He just walked in." Neither the Vances nor the Harringtons were people a restaurant manager could afford to offend. He was paralyzed. I stopped chewing. Before any of us could react, a voice cut through the tension faster than the door opening. "Wyatt, you don't mind if I bring a plus-one, do you?" Chapter 5 Cole strode into the room without waiting for an answer. Before anyone could reject him, he waved a hand behind him. Chloe Jenkins, dressed in a form-fitting silk dress, stepped out from behind his shadow. She offered a sickeningly sweet smile. "Pardon the intrusion, everyone." Cole pulled out a chair and sat down right across from me. Facing Wyatt and Liam’s deadly glares, he smiled effortlessly. "Suddenly had a craving for hotpot. This is my assistant, Chloe. We went to high school together, figured it was a good time for everyone to meet..." "I refuse," I said, my voice dripping with ice. Crashing our private lunch like this was something Cole had never done before. I didn't understand what he was playing at, and I didn't care to figure it out. Chloe, who had been halfway through sitting down, immediately stood back up, acting deeply wronged. She looked at Cole with huge, teary eyes. Cole’s casual smile vanished instantly. Completely ignoring my brother's presence, he issued a cold warning. "Vivienne, if you keep throwing these tantrums, I swear to God I will never speak to you again." The entire room fell into a suffocating silence. Even the manager, who had been secretly wiping sweat from his forehead, froze in place. Wyatt’s face turned thunderous. He opened his mouth to absolutely decimate Cole, but I grabbed his sleeve and pulled him back. I looked Cole dead in the eye. "Please. Never speak to me again. Cole Harrington, from today onward—no, from yesterday onward—we are complete strangers. Whether you live or die has absolutely nothing to do with me." I never want to love Cole again. I never want to know him again. This was the vow I repeated to myself all night long. Cole’s entire body went rigid. He clearly never expected me to say something so final. His eyes darted to Liam, who was sitting comfortably beside me. Cole didn't recognize Liam. Assuming he was just some young, fresh-faced heir, Cole sneered mockingly. "Ha. No wonder you cut ties with me so fast. You already had a backup lined up." "You really have no shame, Vivienne. Professing your undying love to me yesterday, booking a private room with another guy today." "Then again, a pretty boy like this does have a decent face." His insults flowed effortlessly, turning the air in the room dangerously cold. Even Chloe felt the shift; she desperately tugged at Cole’s jacket under the table, but he ignored her. Liam just laughed. He leaned back in his chair, radiating an arrogant, untouchable aura. He didn't seem angry at the insults at all. Instead, he raised an eyebrow and pointed directly at Chloe. Cole didn't understand the gesture. Not until a horde of paparazzi burst through the restaurant's front doors. Liam clapped his hands lazily. He smirked. "If Vivi actually liked me, it would be the honor of my life. But an A-list actor caught secretly hooking up with his assistant? I wonder if that headline is explosive enough?" He threw a flirtatious wink at the flashing cameras. The reporters, entirely seduced by the drama, instantly swarmed Cole and Chloe, cornering them against the table. Before I could even process what was happening, Liam grabbed my hand, pulled me up, and sneaked me out the back exit. I hadn't expected Liam to speak up for me. Remembering what he just said, my heart skipped a strange beat before settling back down. "Liam, thank you." I turned to look for my brother. Wyatt, usually the epitome of calm, was furiously barking orders into his phone at his executive assistant. "Set up a meeting with the Harrington board. Let's see exactly how they raised this bastard of a son." "And run a full background check on Chloe Jenkins and her exact relationship with Cole!" He didn't skip a beat. Wyatt was still burning with rage. I gently grabbed his hand. Originally, I just wanted to quietly sever ties with the Harringtons and never see them again. But I knew Wyatt. He would never let anyone disrespect me like that, and Cole’s insults had crossed a massive line. "Wyatt, Cole’s words can't hurt me anymore. I just want you..." I paused, looking over at Liam as well. "I just want you both to be safe, healthy, and alive."
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