Chapter 1

At our wedding, the woman who held Damon's heart killed herself.

For thirty years, we lived as enemies in a hollow marriage, until the day he poisoned my tea.

I stabbed him before I died, determined to drag him down to hell with me.

But with his final breath, he gasped an order to his subordinate.

"Give her the antidote I found. After I'm gone, you must find out who's been poisoning her all this time."

Tears streamed down my face. So, it wasn't him after all.

When I opened my eyes again, I knew exactly what to do. I'd go to Europe.

Leaving Damon to his first love.

The next time I opened my eyes, I was leaning against a warm chest.

I whipped my head up, meeting Damon's bloodshot eyes, staring back at me.

For a moment, we both froze.

This was the morning after I'd spent an entire night drenched in a storm, all to force him to marry me.

Damon clearly hadn't slept a wink, a faint shadow of stubble on his jaw.

"You have a cold. Take this."

As soon as I woke, the worry in his eyes vanished, replaced by that familiar, brittle tension we'd shared in my previous life, as he pushed me away.

"Damon..." My voice was hoarse. "Just hold me again."

He stood to leave.

But the next second, I wrapped my arms around him from behind.

The tautness of his muscles was unmistakable against my palms.

"Scarlett." He tightly clasped my hands. "You can't force something that isn't meant to be."

"I know." I pressed myself against his back, feeling his warmth one last time. "I'll let you go."

He scoffed. "That's what you always say."

He forcefully pried my hands away, then left without a backward glance.

That slamming door, that retreating back, felt eerily like the last time I'd seen him in my previous life.

I looked down at my palms.

His warmth lingered there.

But he didn't know.

This time, I was truly letting go.

I was just the girl he grew up with, the daughter of his late benefactors, the annoying kid next door who constantly drove him crazy.

But I was never meant to be his wife...

I closed my eyes.

I understood now.

I would let go.

My phone buzzed. It was my assistant calling.

"Ms. Scarlett, we've scouted the beachfront estate you liked. Haven't you always wanted to get married there? Should we move the wedding venue?"

"Go ask Chloe. She loves the ocean too. If she agrees, then switch it."

"Ms. Scarlett?"

My assistant sounded like he'd misheard. "But you're the bride, aren't you?"

"Not anymore, starting today."

I hung up and called my PhD advisor.