Chapter Two: This Time, I Choose Wrong on Purpose
I woke up choking.
Air rushed into my lungs like fire, sharp and painful, as if my body had forgotten how to breathe. I shot upright, my chest heaving, my hands clutching at silk sheets instead of the cold marble of my tomb.
Silk.
Sheets. I looked around
I'm Alive.
I stared down at my hands. No needle marks. No bruises. No pale, lifeless skin.
My heart slammed violently against my ribs.
I wasn't dead.
I wasn't a ghost.
I was—
Alive.
"No… no way," I whispered, my voice hoarse.
I stumbled out of bed and ran to the mirror. The girl staring back at me was younger. Softer. Untouched. My eyes were bright, my skin warm, my lips full of color. I pinched myself so hard to wake myself up if this was a dream..
This was my face before the sickness.
Before the poison.
Before they killed me.
My knees gave out, and I collapsed onto the floor, laughing and crying at the same time.
"I'm back," I breathed. "I'm really back."
Memories flooded my mind in a violent rush. The funeral. The lies. The laughter. The blood. Andre kneeling at my grave. Andre dying for me.
Andre.
My chest tightened painfully.
A sharp knock sounded on my door.
"Miss," a maid called. "You need to get ready. The family dinner starts in thirty minutes."
My blood ran cold.
The family dinner.
I looked at the calendar on my nightstand, my hands shaking as I flipped the page.
Six months.
Six months before the poisoning began.
Six months before my death.
This dinner.
I remembered it now.
This was the night my father would announce that it was time for me to choose a fiancé.
The night everything started.
I slowly got to my feet, staring at my reflection again.
"This time," I whispered to the girl in the mirror, "I won't be your victim."
⸻
The dining hall was just as I remembered—grand chandeliers, gold-trimmed walls, and a long table filled with people who smiled too much and meant nothing good.
Suitors.
Powerful families.
Business partners.
And predators.
My father sat at the head of the table, dignified and proud, his arm wrapped around my stepmother's waist. She leaned into him delicately, the picture of a loving wife.
My stepsister sat beside them, laughing softly, her blue eyes glittering with false warmth when she saw me.
"Big sister," she chirped. "You look beautiful tonight."
I smiled back.
If only she knew how many ways I planned to destroy her.
Across the room, my eyes landed on Raymond.
My former fiancé.
He stood among the other young men, handsome and confident, watching me like he already owned me as he brushed his fingers through his dirty blonde hair and winked at me…
In my past life, my heart would've leapt at the sight of him.
Now?
I felt nothing.
No—worse than nothing.
Disgust.
And then I felt it.
That presence.
Heavy. Dangerous. Unignorable.
My gaze shifted—and there he was.
Andre.
He stood slightly apart from the others, dressed in black, his posture relaxed but commanding. His black hair sitting perfectly on his face as His dark silver eyes found mine instantly, as if he'd been waiting.
My breath caught.
He looked the same as the man who had knelt at my grave.
Powerful.
Cold.
And terrifyingly beautiful.
Our eyes locked.
For a moment, the world disappeared.
Then I remembered everything.
I broke the gaze and took my seat, my heart pounding.
Fake laughter filled the room. Wine flowed. Compliments were exchanged like currency.
I watched them all with new eyes.
My father's calculating glances.
My stepmother's subtle signals to my stepsister.
The way Raymond's smile tightened whenever Andre spoke.
They thought I was still blind.
I almost laughed.
"Ladies and gentlemen," my father finally said, rising from his seat. "Tonight is an important night."
The room quieted.
"My loving daughter, You are of age," he continued, smiling at me like a proud parent. "It's time for you to choose a man worthy of becoming your husband."
My stepmother clapped softly. And then whispered "We know you already have someone in mind."
I met her gaze calmly.
Oh, I did.
"And so," my father said, gesturing toward the men, "come. Make your choice."
My heart thundered as I stood, this time confidently as I swung my brown wavy hair behind me…
This scene.
It was playing out exactly the same.
Last time, I had walked straight to Raymond.
Last time, I had doomed myself.
I took one step forward.
Then another.
Raymond was already smiling like a proud man
Gasps rippled through the room as I walked past Raymond without even glancing at him.
I stopped in front of Andre.
The silence was deafening.
"I choose him," I said clearly.
The room exploded into murmurs.
"What?"
"Did she just—?"
"That's impossible!"
Raymond's face went white.
My father surged forward, There's been a misunderstanding, he said while grabbing my arm painfully and dragging me toward a corner.
"What do you think you're doing?" he hissed.
I calmly pulled my arm free. "Choosing a fiancé."
"You've always loved Raymond!" he snapped. "Everyone knows that!"
A flash hit me and I remembered…
Andre standing quietly looking at me while I laughed with Raymond.
Andre's jaw tightening as I chose Raymond over him again and again.
Andre's cold words. His harsh tone. His so-called bullying. Him abducting me each time I refuse to go with him… I really took him for a bully…
Now I understood.
It wasn't cruelty, it was pain
He wasn't the devil I thought he was, Raymond was way worse
"He treated you terribly," my father pressed. "That man is dangerous", He's not a perfect match for you, he added…
"Yes," I said softly. "I know."
And he was perfectly made for me, I said
And that was exactly why I chose him.
I turned and walked back toward the party, leaving my dad lost for words…
Before I could take two steps, Raymond grabbed my wrist, gripping hard.
"What the hell is this?" he demanded. "Stop playing games."
I looked at my dad, this is the man you want for me, I said
He stuttered and left awkwardly…I scoffed
I yanked my hand. "Let go of me."
"You've loved me since we were kids," he said sharply. "This is a prank, I know it, and I'm not in the mood for your games, So Fix it. Now."
His grip tightened.
"Raymond," I warned. "You're hurting me."
A shadow fell over us.
Andre.
"Release her," he said calmly.
Raymond scoffed. "This is between us."
Andre didn't repeat himself.
Two of his men appeared instantly and dragged Raymond away, ignoring his protests.
Andre turned to me, his eyes dark and searching.
"Come," he said. "We need to talk."
He led me outside, the cool night air brushing my skin.
He stopped suddenly and faced me, towering and intense.
"What game are you playing?" he asked quietly. "You've never chosen me."
His voice dropped.
"I'll give you forty-eight hours," he continued. "Change your mind. After that… you won't get the chance."
My heart raced.
"If you don't," he said, leaning closer, "you'll be mine. Completely, and no one will take you from me..
Power rolled off him.
Danger.
Possession, and this time I loved it…
I looked up at him.
Then I smirked.
I raised my heel a little and kissed him, tenderly as I brushed my fingers through his hair..
His body went rigid.
Shock flashed across his face.
I pulled back and whispered, "I'm already yours."
Then I turned and walked away.
Behind me, Andre stood frozen, staring after me like I'd just rewritten his entire world.
I didn't look back.
But I smiled.
Because this time—
I was the one in control.