"Clive, Paisley doesn't want to marry you. Can't you just leave her alone already?"
The voice was sharp, desperate.
Paisley Hughes stirred, her head pounding like a drum. Her vision swam, her limbs heavy. Everything felt... wrong. Off. She pried her eyes open, only to catch the blur of two men shoving each other in front of her.
What the hell was going on?
The guy being pinned to the wall was Ethan Duncan - thin gold-rimmed glasses askew, face pale with panic. He looked like the picture of restraint on the outside, but he was clearly losing it.
The man pinning him?
Clive Harrington.
Black suit. Ice-cold expression. Handsome to the point of cruel. His eyes locked on Ethan like a wolf cornering its prey.
"Paisley is my wife," Clive said, voice low and lethal. "Mine. For life."
That line.
Her heart jolted. She knew those words. Had heard them before.
Three years ago.
Her breath caught. Was she dreaming?
Paisley's eyes darted around. The villa - this was their place. Hers and Clive's. Wedding photos lined the walls. Romantic florals. Champagne glasses on the table. Everything screamed "just married."
No.
No way.
This was exactly three years ago.
Her temples throbbed as she tried to make sense of it. She'd hit her head - maybe she was hallucinating. But when she looked into Clive's eyes - those deep, unreadable eyes - something in her gut said this was real.
She had been reborn.
Before she could process it all, Ethan lunged forward and grabbed her arm. "Paisley, come with me. I don't care how powerful he is. I'll protect you. I always will."
That line.
She used to believe it.
Used to think Ethan was her salvation. That love meant sacrifice. That he'd chosen her.
But now?
Now she saw it for what it was. A lie. A setup. A damn performance.
She didn't hesitate. Her hand flew up and slapped him across the face.
The crack echoed through the room.
Ethan reeled back, eyes wide in disbelief. "Paisley... why'd you hit me?"
His face was blank. He didn't get it.
But she did.
That slap confirmed everything - this wasn't a dream. This was her second chance.
God hadn't abandoned her. He'd thrown her back into the exact moment everything could have changed.
She remembered it all now.
How she'd walked away from Clive for Ethan. Given up her marriage. Her shares in Hughes Corp. Her name. Her pride.
All for a man who never wanted her - only wanted what she owned.
Ethan had teamed up with Olivia Hughes, her oh-so-perfect half-sister. Together, they drugged her, used her, destroyed her. Even her own mother had sold her out.
And when they were done?
They tossed her back to Clive like trash.
Clive hadn't said a word back then. Just locked her up for a year. Cold. Silent. Distant. All they ever did was have sex. No conversations. No warmth. Just bodies. Nothing more.
Then the Hughes family crumbled. Clive held up his end of their deal and let her go.
She ran.
And got hit by Ethan's car. Dying alone on a bridge, betrayed by everyone she had ever loved.
But not this time.
This time, she knew exactly who her enemies were. She wasn't going to beg. She wasn't going to break. She was going to make every one of them pay.
And she was going to start now.
"I'm not leaving with you," she said, voice clear and cold. "I'm Clive's wife. Ethan, what makes you think I'd walk out that door with you? This is my house. Get out."
Ethan stood frozen, like she'd just slapped him again.
This was Paisley - the girl who used to trail behind him like a puppy. Who never said no to him. Who once thought the world of him.
But now?
Now she looked at him like he was nothing.
And for the first time in his life, Ethan didn't know what to say.