Chapter 1
A man’s voice drifted through the haze, low and seductive, calling. “Laurel., Laurel…
I love you, baby, I love you more than anything. Let’s stay like this forever, yeah?“.
Laurel Lambert lay bare, her body enveloped in the soothing warmth of the hot spring
She was tangled in the arms of a shadowed figure, his face blurred by the curling mist, his touch impossible to escape. His lips–bot, demanding- brushed over her skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake.
The faint, woodsy scent of sandalwood hung in the air, intoxicating and persistent, like him. His voice, deep and magnetic, whispered her name, pulling her further into tus fevered dream.
She couldn’t resist. She didn’t want to. She sank deeper into the bliss.
Then–smack!
A vicious blow ripped her out of the dream, hurling her back into the harsh, frigid reality of her life
Laurel hit the ground hard, the pain splitting through her like a lightning bolt. The tender warmth, the
he heady passion–it all evaporated in an instant, leaving nothing but the cold, cruel truth.
She was in Oslonia City Women’s Prison. No warmth, no escape–just the sting of fists and the jeering laughter of the inmates.
“Hey, dumbass What, you deal? We’ve been yelling at you for ages, bitch!” a voice called out.
Laurel groaned, forcing herself onto one elbow, her body screaming in protest. Her movements were slow, stiff, like a broken marionette.
She lifted her head and locked eyes with the woman standing over her a scarred face twisted into a cruel grin, the kind of face nightmares were made of
“What the hell do you want?” Laurel’s voice was cold, dead. She didn’t have the energy for fear anymore.
“Oh, look at that. Ice Queen’s finally talking!” another inmate piped up, holding her chest dramatically. “Shit, you look like a for ghost Scared the shit out of me.”
The room erupted in laughter, the sound grating like nails on a chalkboard.
“Karen, didn’t you carve u
carve up her face yourself?” someone teased. “What, your masterpiece scare you now?”
Karen Hurlbutt’s face darkened, her fake amusement giving way to rage. Without warning, she lashed out, driving her boot into Laurel’s stomach with a brutal force.
“That’s for acting
Acting like yo
you’re better than me, you scarred–up freak!” she yelled.
Laurel curled up instinctively, clutching her ribs, but her expression didn’t change. Pain didn’t mean shit to her anymore. It was as breathing.
routine
Eventually, Karen got bored of her lack of reaction. She crouched down, grabbed a fistful of Laurel’s hair, and yanked her head back hard. “Ah Laurel’s scream was raw, ripping through the tense air.
Karen leaned in, her grin razor–sharp. “That’s better. Now you’re paying attention”
“You know,” Karen continued, her voice dripping with mock sweetness, “your little sister Regina sent me a message today. Guess what? She’s getting married. To George fucking Lynch
“She said to give you a warm welcome on her big day. So, let’s celebrate, shall
Karen reached into her pocket and pulled out a small box. Opening it with a dramatic flourish, she revealed a pile of shiny thumbtacks. The glint of the metal caught the light, sharp and menacing.
“Open wide, bitch, Karen sneered, grabbing a handful of the tacks and forcing them toward Laurel’s mouth.
Laurel twisted her head away, panic clawing at her chest, hut Karen was relentless.
1/4
xe
She clamped a rough hand over Laurel’s mouth and shoved the tacks in, the sharp points tearing at the delicate flesh inside. Blood pooled on hier tongue, the metallic taste making her p
Laurel’s body jerked violently as she fought back, her strength surprising even herself. Karen, caught off guard, stumbled but recovered quickly.
“Hold her down!” Karen barked, frustration lacing her tone. “Regina’s putting two hundred grand on the table for anyone who helps me make her pay today!”
That did it. The other inmates surged forward like a pack of hyenas, grabbing at Laurel’s arms, her legs, pinning bes
concicle.
Karen’s laughter echoed through the cell as she grabbed more tacks. There we go. That’s better. Fat up, bitch!”
rust the cold
Laurel’s nails scraped against the floor, the sharp pain n of them splitting barely registering. Blood dripped from her fingertips as her body shook, her eyes wild with fury and despair.
Meanwhile, somewhere far away, her “darling” sister Regina was playing the blushing bride, marrying George Lynch–the man Laurel had once thought was her forever.
Three years ago, George had been her world. She’d dreamed of a future with him, of weddings and white picket fences and babies with
eyez
h his dark
But that was before he’d destroyed her. Before he’d used her love and loyalty to build his career, only to toss her aside the second she became inconvenient
When his plan to steal business ideas from his cousin Roderick Lynch blew up in his face, George had set her up, letting her take the fall. Laurel became the scapegoat, sent to prison while he walked away untouched.
The day she was sentenced. Regina had visited her, the memory seared into Laurel’s mind like a brand.
“You’re not even a real La
Lambert, Regina had sneered, her smile cold and triumphant. “You’re just some stray my mom dragged home out of pity. “George never loved you. Never. You were just a pawn in his game. A useful little tool. But me! I’m the one he chose. I’m the one he loves”
Regina’s voice had dropped to a venomous whisper. “And now that he’s going to be head of the Lynch family, I’ll be Mrs. Lynch, And you? You’ll rot here, forgotten. Exactly where you belong.”
“Don’t worry, sis” she’d added, her tone mockingly sweet, “I made sure they’d take extra good care of you in here. Call it
The inmates around her? Every single one of them wa
was on Regina’s payroll.
For two hellish years, Laurel had endured daily beatings and endless torment in that prison.
Whenever those women had a bad day–or just felt like it–they’d turn her into their personal punching bag, Kicks, punches, hair–pulling, even yanking out her teeth like they were pulling weeds,
And when that got boring, they’d whip out a knife and carve her face lik
like she was their canvas.
The second her wounds started to heal, they’d slice them open again. Over and over. Like they enjoyed watching her bleed.
George Lynch Regina Lambert, Laurel thought bitterly, her fists clenching right. You wrecked my life, tossed me into this hellhole, and now you
want me dead too?
Fine. Go ahead, give it your best shot. But let me tell you something–if I die, Il crawl back as a goddamn ghost and haunt you both to your graves. You’ll never know a moment’s peace!
She could feel the sharp points of nails scraping against her throat, the pain so sharp and unrelenting that her body was shutting down.
Her eyes drifted up to the blinding fluorescent light above her, and for the first time, she let her lids fall shut.
Maybe death wasn’t so bad. Maybe it was a
was an escape.
But if she ever got another shot–just one more chance. She’d make sure to ruin every single person who hurt her.
ex
Laurel’s eyes flew open, her chest heaving as she gasped for air like she’d been suffocating.
The bright light above wasn’t the cold, sterile glow of a prison bulb. It was warm. Soft. Crystal
She blinked rapidly, her heart pounding as her gaze darted around. This wasn’t the prison.
She threw the blankets off and sat upright, her hands trembling as she took in the scene around her. Omate modern–style furniture. Gleaming floor–to–ceiling windows. A bed so massive and plush it could swallow her whole.
This was a hotel.
How did I go from a dirty prison cell to this? she wondered,
Her breathing hitched as her gaze fell to the dress she was wearing–a white gown that sent a jolt of recognition through her.
This dress was the one she’d wom on her engagement day.
Her head spun, memories crashing into her all at once. Her heart thundered in her chest as the realization hit her like a freight train.
She went back, back to the day she got engaged to George Lynch.
Before this before prison, before everything went to hell–Laurel had been in this very hotel, getting ready for her engagement party with George.
He’d been the picture of a caring fiancé, sending her up to a suite to rest after days of party planning.
She’d been so naive. Now, as she sat in that same suite, the memories of her pres
previous life came flooding back, vivid and brutal.
After their engagement, she’d fallen hard for George’s sweet–talking bullshit about love and partnership.
He’d convinced her to hand over everything–her hard–earned connections, her carefully nurtured resources–all in the name of helping him climb to the top of his family’s business
And she’d done it. She’d made him untouchable. And what did she get in return? He used her up and tossed her aside like yesterday’s trash.
When he no longer needed her, he framed her. Made her the scapegoat. She’d taken the fall for him, rotting in a cell while he went on to live his perfect little life.
But not
this time. But not this time. This time, George would regret ever meeting her.
And this engagement party? Over her dead body.
No–scratch that. There would be no Laurel and George. Not in this lifetime.
With her plan already in motion. Laurel grabbed her phone and shot off a quick text [Find me an IP address and dig up their private photos.]
It didn’t take long for a reply to come back: [Got it. Give me ten minutes.]
She glanced at the clock. The engagement banquet was set to start at noon, leaving her just thirty minutes to pull everything together.
Adjusting her dress and smoothing her hair, she decided to head downstairs early to make sure everything was in place.
But as soon as she opened the door, she nearly walked straight into someone stepping out of the room across the hall.
The man in front of her exuded power–cool, unapproachable, with an aura that demanded attention. And then there was his face: strikingly handsome, his sharp features impossible to forget.
She knew immediately who he was. Roderick Lynch. The eldest heir of the Lynch family. George’s most dangerous enemy.
Her mind reeled. Of all the people she could run into right after traveling back in time, it had to be him.
In her past life, George had clawed his way to power by playing dirty. He’d promised the elites of Oslonia City shares in Lynch Group, convincing then to back him in exchange for a piece of the family’s massive fortune.
Greedy for the spoils, they jumped at the chance.
But George’s betrayal of the Lynch family had awakened a sleeping giant: Roderick Roderick had laid out a meticulous plan to take George down, one that should’ve ended with George in prison.
But Laurel–blinded by George’s lies and fake promises–had taken the fall for him instead.
With her in jail, George was free to act. His first move! Sabotaging Roderick’s car.
The accident had been brutal. Roderick barely survived, but it left him crippled.
Soon after, Warwick Lynch–Roderick’s grandfather–fell gravely ill. Fearing for Roderick’s safety, Warwick secretly sent him abroad. He remained in exile, even after Warwick’s death.
With Roderick out of the picture, George seized complete control of the Lynch family, cementing his position at the тор.
The scandal had been the talk of Oslonia City for months, but Laurel had only pieced it all together through the whispers of prison guards.
Laurel had known of Roderick but never met him. They’d been on opposing sides, after all.
But this time? The enemy of her enemy was her ally. If she wanted to destroy George, Roderick was her best shot…
Forcing a calm smile, Laurel stepped forward. “Mr. Lynch, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Roderick’s brow arched slightly as he looked her over, his cool gaze tinged with curiosity. A flicker of amusement crossed his lips. “You know who I am?”
Laurel’s voice was steady, her words deliberate. “Of course. You’re a legend–a true force in your field. It’d be hard not to recognize you.”
As she spoke, a faint scent caught her attention. Sandalwood. Cool and refined, with a hint of mystery.
Her breath hitched. It was his scent. The exact same one from her dream.
Her eyes shot up to meet his, and for a split second, she froze. ‘Could it really be him?”
