Saturday arrived with the subtlety of a sledgehammer.
Louise stood in the center of L'Etoile, the city's most expensive boutique, holding a hanger that suspended a dress made of crimson silk and pure audacity.
In her previous life—the life where she died on a dirty floor—Louise would have checked the price tag, gasped, and immediately put it back, opting for the beige cardigan on the clearance rack. She had spent seven years shrinking herself to fit into David's budget, David's ego, and David's life.
Not today.
Today, she was expanding.
"Do you like it, babe?" David asked, glancing up from his phone. He was sitting on the plush leather husband bench, looking bored and slightly agitated, already stressed by the store's price tags. "It looks... red. Very red. Isn't it a bit much for dinner with my parents?"
"That's the point," Louise said, holding the dress against her body and admiring the way the color made her pale skin look porcelain rather than sickly. "Your mother thinks I'm a mouse, David. I want to show her I can be a lioness. For you."
She handed the dress to a saleswoman, a snooty woman with a tightly pulled bun who had been eyeing Louise's previously demure style with barely concealed judgment.
"I'll take this," Louise said, her voice ringing with newfound authority. "And the black stilettos. And the diamond clutch. Oh, and that cashmere wrap—the one in charcoal grey."
David stood up, his eyes widening in alarm. "Whoa, hold on. Louise, honey, that's... a lot. My credit card has a limit. We're supposed to be saving for the house, remember?"
Louise turned to him slowly. She didn't plead. She didn't apologize. She simply tilted her head and offered him a smile that was equal parts seduction and challenge. She knew exactly how to strike the core of his vanity.
"David," she purred, stepping into his personal space. She reached out and adjusted his collar, her touch light but possessive. "You're an investor, aren't you? A visionary?"
David blinked, his financial anxiety instantly overshadowed by the intoxicating flattery. "Well, yes. Of course."
"Then you know that you have to spend money to maintain an asset," Louise lowered her voice to a husky whisper. "I am your asset, David. I am your wife. When we walk into that dinner tonight, do you want me to look like a woman who is barely getting by? Or do you want me to look like the prize you won? Do you want your father to look at you with envy because you managed to tame a woman like this?"
She gestured to her reflection in the gilded mirror.
"I am your property, aren't I?" Louise said, the words a bitter poison she coated in sugar. "Don't you want a wife who makes you proud? A trophy everyone wants to steal?"
David stared at her. His pupils dilated, and the anxiety vanished, replaced by a glint of raw, conquering possessiveness.
"You're right," David breathed, stepping closer. "You are my prize."
He looked at her with a feverish hunger that made Louise's skin crawl. He leaned in, his hand sliding down to her waist, pulling her flush against him. His breath ghosted over her lips. "I want to kiss you."
Panic flashed through Louise. No. Never again.
"Ma'am?" The saleswoman's voice, crisp and timely, cut through the moment. "I have the dress ready for your fitting."
Louise pulled back instantly, flashing David a breathless, apologetic smile. "Saved by the bell," she whispered, tapping his chest playfully. "I have to change. Don't worry, darling. You'll be the first to see the finished product."
She slipped out of his grasp and retreated into the dressing room, leaving David standing there, flustered and more eager than she had ever seen him.
Inside, Louise slumped against the door, fighting the urge to vomit. She then faced the mirror, picked up the dress, and put on her armor.
Ten minutes later, the curtains of the dressing room swept open.
Louise stepped out. The red silk dress clung to her, a garment of pure, confident female rage. She had applied a bold, blood-red lipstick that contrasted sharply with her flawless skin, and her hair was loose, wild, and luminous. She moved with an unconscious, regal grace, lifted by the black stilettos. She didn't look like an employee, a fiancée, or a victim. She looked like a powerful woman who had decided to stop apologizing for existing.
David, who had returned to his phone, looked up. His jaw dropped, and he stood up slowly, forgetting his phone, forgetting the money, forgetting everything but the vision in front of him.
"Holy God," David whispered, his voice hoarse with awe.
"Well?" Louise asked, spinning slowly.
"You look magnificent," David stammered, rushing over. "You look expensive. God, Louise, this is... I want to claim you right here. I want everyone to know you belong to me."
"Then let's go show them," Louise trailed off, expertly avoiding his embrace while walking toward the counter. "Ring it up, ladies. All of it."
The card was swiped. The transaction was approved. The damage was done.
They exited the store, but the familiar dynamic of their relationship was inverted.
Louise walked ahead, her head held high, carrying nothing but her diamond clutch. Her heels clicked the rhythm of her new life on the marble floor of the high-end mall.
Behind her, struggling visibly with six large, glossy, heavy shopping bags, was David. He was sweating, his grin of pride battling with the strain on his biceps.
"Babe, wait up!" David puffed, adjusting the stack of bags. "These are seriously heavy!"
"Keep up, David," Louise called back, not turning around. "You need the exercise."
She felt a rush of pure, sweet vindication. In her previous life, she was always the one lugging the bags while he walked three paces ahead. Now, he was her servant, carrying her plunder.
They turned a corner near the central atrium and Louise came to an abrupt, full stop.
Coming toward them was a pair that radiated high-voltage, contrasting energy.
One was Andy Finch. Tall, impeccably dressed in casual but costly attire, his arm was held loosely, but possessively, by a young woman in an oversized hoodie.
It was Mia.
Mia was laughing at something Andy had said, her messy hair brushing his shoulder. She was leaning into him with the familiarity of someone who belonged there.
Ah, so that's it, Louise realized, a cold wave of confirmation washing over her.
She remembered the way Mia had stormed into his office, the confidence, the lack of fear. She remembered Andy's uncharacteristic softness toward the intern in the hallway.
She is his secret lover. Louise concluded, her disappointment in the "Fated Mate" vanishing instantly, replaced by a cynical understanding. That's why she's so bold in the company.
Just then, Andy looked up.
His gaze found Louise, and his forward momentum stalled completely.
He stopped, freezing mid-stride.
Louise, standing there in the red dress—the color he had mockingly suggested was "pedestrian"—with a face perfectly contoured by expensive makeup, looked utterly and breathtakingly different.
Andy's eyes widened, traveling slowly over her transformation, his usual cold mask shattering into something raw and desperate. He looked like a man punched in the gut, knocked breathless by an unexpected beauty that belonged to another man.
David, sensing the powerful gaze of his CEO on his prize, swelled with pride. He tightened his grip on the bags and snaked an arm around Louise's shoulder.
"Mr. Finch!" David called out, a triumphant smirk on his face. "Fancy running into you!"
The spell broke. Andy's attention snapped to David's hand on Louise. The awe in his eyes instantly hardened into a mask of pure, glacial resentment.
"Salinger," Andy acknowledged curtly, his voice flat.
"Just finished a massive shopping spree," David boasted, jostling Louise proudly. "Louise is making sure she looks the part for my parents tonight. Doesn't she look incredible?"
Andy stared at Louise, a flicker of something close to pain crossing his features.
"Yes," Andy said quietly, his voice dangerously low. "She looks... utterly changed."
Louise offered a brief, regal dip of her head. "Mr. Finch. And Mia. Good afternoon."
Mia squinted, nudging Andy. "Wow. Is that really Ms. Salinger? She's... stunning."
Andy nodded once, his eyes burning into Louise's. He didn't say another word, simply stepping to the side. The four of them passed each other with the strained formality of a diplomatic incident.
As they walked away, David couldn't contain his excitement. "Did you see his face? He was absolutely eating his heart out! Did you know he was dating that intern? I wonder if HR knows. We should look into that."
"No, David," Louise said softly, her voice trailing off as she looked back. "We should leave it alone."
She was looking back at Andy, who was now being tugged away by Mia.
Andy was still muttering under his breath, his eyes fixed on the point where Louise had stood.
"She never wears makeup," he said, the words heavy with confusion and hurt. "Not like that. It's too much effort. She hated it."
Mia, oblivious to the deeper turmoil, looked at her brother with sympathy. "Well, yeah. Makeup takes time, Andy. A woman only puts in that much effort for the person she loves, right? She must really, really love David."
Andy Finch stopped walking. He looked at his sister, then back at the red dress disappearing into the crowd, and crushed the final piece of hope that remained in his chest.
"Right," Andy forced out, the word tasting like ash. "She must."
He started walking again, his long strides taking him away from the sight of the woman he secretly adored, who had just made herself beautiful for her beloved.