Chapter 4

It took a death for me to see things clearly.

In my past life, I thought saving Anna—dragging her onto that plane bound for a new city—was the right thing to do.

I was so wrong.

How could I have been so delusional? How could I have believed she wanted saving?

Anna and my father were a match made in hell.

Luke was right about one thing: kindness without strength always comes at a cost.

Looking into Anna’s hollow eyes, watching her revel in the torment she claimed to hate, I felt nothing. No pity. No anger. Just a cold, detached clarity.

Without a word, I turned and walked away.

When I was reborn, I knew exactly what I needed to do.

This time, I wouldn’t waste my energy trying to fix what couldn’t be fixed.

I resigned as student council president, stepped down as class leader, quit all my extracurriculars, and declined every invitation to events or parties.

I poured every ounce of my time and focus into my studies.

Because I knew what was coming.

Soon, my father’s company would welcome a new rising star—a man as sharp, ruthless, and cunning as a younger version of Luke himself.

His name was Jason King.

In my past life, by the time I died, Jason had already climbed the ranks to the boardroom. He wasn’t just a rising star—he was a force, someone my father trusted to make major decisions for the company.

I remembered the night Jason was promoted.

Luke brought him home to celebrate.

They stood at the top of the basement stairs, dressed impeccably in tailored suits, red wine swirling in their glasses. From where I was chained below, I could see the faint smirk on Jason’s face, the glint of amusement in Luke’s eyes as they both glanced at me.

“Mr. White, such… refined tastes,” Jason had said, his tone polite but laced with mockery.

Luke chuckled, pleased by the compliment, but Jason’s gaze never left me.

After Luke left the room, Jason came down the stairs.

He handed me a sandwich, his expression soft with pity.

“Poor girl,” he murmured, his voice almost kind.

Starved and desperate, I devoured the sandwich without hesitation.

And then I felt it—the sharp, cold edge of a razor blade slicing through my throat.

I choked, blood gushing from my mouth as I clawed at my neck.

Jason crouched down, dipping his fingers into the pool of blood spilling onto the floor. He brought them to his lips, licking the crimson from his fingertips, his eyes shining with a sick, twisted excitement.

He was just like Luke.

In this life, I knew what I had to do.

The day before my final exams, I returned home.

I made a calculated choice to gain Luke’s favor.

I prepared a dish—one I remembered from my past life—a delicacy meant for Anna.

When I brought the dish to him, Luke looked at me with something I hadn’t seen in years: approval.

For the first time in what felt like forever, he smiled.

“Lila,” he said, his voice warm. “You’re finally starting to remind me of myself.”

I lowered my eyes, smiling sweetly.

“Of course, Father. I am your daughter, after all.”

The dish was called "Three Squeaks."

When I opened the container, the tiny pink baby mice inside squirmed and squeaked loudly, their little bodies writhing as they tried to escape.

Anna gasped, her face pale with horror.

I turned to her, my smile bright and cheerful as I gently patted her cheek.

“Mom,” I said, my voice soft and sweet. “I made this just for you.”