Chapter 1The Love I Burned Away

I had spent ten years of my life quietly in love with the boy next door.

The night the Sinclair family went bankrupt, Chloe Sinclair spent twenty-four hours on her knees outside the Miller estate, begging for mercy. I was terrified that Mike would let his heart soften for her lies, so I made up an excuse. I told him it was my birthday and begged him to take me to the pier. I led him away to the bright lights and the loud music of the carnival, anywhere far from her.

The next morning, the headlines broke. Chloe Sinclair had been driven to the edge by her creditors; she’d jumped from the roof of a high-rise.

Mike didn’t say a single word. He was a ghost, a hollow shell of a man as he handled her funeral arrangements in absolute silence. Then, with that same haunting silence, he agreed to marry me.

On our wedding day, the chapel was swallowed by an inferno. Everything we were supposed to be turned to ash in that sea of fire. He saved me—he dragged my body through the smoke, risking his life to pull me out—but he didn’t survive the heat.

With his final ounce of strength, he reached out and shredded our wedding portrait, his fingers clawing at the canvas until his nails bled.

"Meeting you," he wheezed, his eyes burning with a hatred I had never seen, "is the only thing I regret about this life."

It was in that moment, as the life left his eyes, that I finally understood. He didn’t just resent me. He hated me.

After he was gone, I became the pariah. I was the "black widow," the woman who had brought nothing but bad luck to the Millers. At his funeral, his relatives didn’t hold back; they kicked and screamed at me while I sat in the dirt. Even his parents, who had always treated me like their own daughter, looked at me with nothing but icy indifference.

"If it weren't for you, Mike would still be alive," his mother whispered, her voice like a knife. "Your existence was never anything but a burden to him."

I wandered the streets like a soul without a body until a truck sent me over the side of a bridge. I died the moment I hit the water.

But then, I opened my eyes.

I was back. One week before the wedding.

This time, I’m letting go.

* * *

Inside the high-end bridal boutique, Mike Miller sat on the velvet sofa in his tuxedo. There wasn't a flicker of groom-to-be excitement in his eyes—only a cold, simmering resentment.

"Are you satisfied now, Grace?" he asked, his voice dripping with venom. "I never realized that when my parents took you in out of pity, you were actually plotting to force your way into my bed. You think a ceremony is going to make me love you? You’re dreaming."

I looked down at my phone. The date was exactly one week before the wedding.

The Sinclairs hadn't officially filed for bankruptcy yet. Chloe was still alive, still haven't reached the point of no return. There was still time to fix everything.

A wave of phantom pain from my past life washed over me, but I pushed the bitterness down. I looked at him and forced a small, tired smile.

"I know," I said softly. "I know your heart belongs to someone else."

I took a breath. "This time, I’m letting you go."

He blinked, a flash of genuine surprise crossing his face before he let out a harsh, mocking laugh.

"Letting me go? What is that supposed to mean? The invitations are out, the venue is booked. You think saying that now changes anything?" He stood up, towering over me. "I used to think of you as my sister. I looked out for you. I even let you into the inner workings of the company. But you? You’re a two-faced snake, Grace. It makes me sick."

He stepped closer, his shadow swallowing me. "If you hadn't poisoned my parents' minds against Chloe, they wouldn't have such a prejudice against her. You got exactly what you wanted. Don’t start acting like a martyr now."

He didn't wait for an answer. He stormed out of the boutique and stood on the sidewalk, lighting one cigarette after another.

I looked at my reflection in the three-way mirror. The white lace felt like a shroud. I called the attendant over and gave her a new set of measurements—Chloe’s measurements.

Then, I called the wedding planner and told them to change the bride’s name on everything to Chloe Sinclair.

My phone wallpaper was still a photo of us from ten years ago. Back then, my parents had just died in a tragic accident, and my world had ended. Mike was the one who pulled me out of the wreckage. Our parents had been lifelong friends, and it was Mike who begged his parents to adopt me so I wouldn't be lost to the foster system.

He protected me from every bully at school. He kept me tucked under his wing, day and night. When classmates teased that I was his "little shadow," he’d just offer a soft, indulgent smile.

When a group of older boys tried to corner me once, Mike didn't hesitate. He fought them until his knuckles were raw and his face was smeared with blood. I stood there, sobbing in terror. He took my hand, pulled me close, and covered my ears.

"It's okay, Gracie. Big brother is going to protect you forever."

He had kept that promise for a long time. Once I joined the company, I was his only "plus-one" at every gala, every event. Everyone whispered that the cold, arrogant Mike Miller only had a soft spot for his little sister. The rumors grew so loud that I started to believe them myself.

When his parents found the journals where I’d poured out my teenage pining, they started pushing us together. But that fire in the chapel... that fire taught me the truth.

I was never his heart. I was just a weight around his neck.

I changed back into my street clothes and walked out of the shop, keeping my face carefully blank. The dress was handled. Now, I just needed the rings.

"Mike," I said, catching him as he blew out a cloud of smoke. "I want to pick out the rings. Come with me."

He knew Chloe’s taste better than anyone. He was busy staring at his phone, a faint, rare smile touching his lips as he typed a message. When he looked up at me, his gaze turned back to ice.

"The dress wasn't enough? You need the rings today, too? My god, Grace, you’re desperate to lock this down, aren't you?" He checked his watch. "I don't have time. Chloe’s family is having a crisis. I need to go to her."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and reached out to open his car door for him. "Go. Go to her. I’ll tell your parents there was an emergency at the office. I’ll cover for you."

Mike paused, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. "What's wrong with you today? Usually, if I even mention Chloe, you turn into a brat. I guess now that the wedding is a week away, you finally feel like she’s not a threat anymore?"

I didn't answer. I just gave him a sad, tight smile. He didn't wait for a response; he peeled away from the curb without looking back.