The night air was still, almost mocking. The moon sat high, watching the world like an impartial judge waiting for chaos to unfold.
Jiaxuan stood before the mirror in their master bedroom, her fingers fastening the last hook of the blood-red gown that clung to her like second skin. The silk caressed every curve, flowing like temptation itself. The back plunged low, revealing soft porcelain skin. Her cleavage peeked boldly, daring anyone to look—and her long, sculpted legs slipped through the thigh-high slit with every step.
It wasn't vanity. It was war paint.
Her lips, painted a bold crimson, curled into a mocking smile as she reached for her heels. Let him think I'm trying to seduce him. Let him think I'm just another woman desperate for his attention. It will be his downfall.
Her hand trembled slightly as she adjusted her earrings. Not from fear—but from the echo of her past life's betrayal. She could still see them—Chen Yuze and Lin Meilin, her so-called sister—laughing, sipping champagne, toasting their victory while she rotted in her own ruined life. The lies. The manipulation. The ruin.
She took a deep breath, bracing her heart.
Because this time, she was prepared to bleed... if that's what it took to strike first.
Her hands trembled—not from fear, but from fury that simmered beneath her skin.
He would hate this.
Her husband—Huo Shenzhi. The man she had betrayed once and had spent every breath since then trying to mend what was broken. He was cold now. Distant. Wounded. But somewhere beneath the frost, she knew there was still a flicker of something left. Something fragile. Something terrifyingly real.
And yet here she was—dressed to seduce the very man who had tried to destroy them both in her past life.
She leaned closer to the mirror, fixing an errant curl behind her ear. Her crimson lipstick bled elegance, but her eyes… her eyes were war.
What would Shenzhi do if he found out? The thought clawed at her chest like talons. He might explode. He might lock her away. He might never forgive her again. Not even if he begged for it in the dark when no one could hear his shattered sobs.
He might believe she was lying again. That she had never changed. That she still belonged to Chen Yuze.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
But this was war. A chessboard drenched in blood and regret.
If she didn't walk into the devil's lair, she wouldn't be able to crush him. She wouldn't be able to crush them.
To bring the tower down, she had to stand in it.
Even if it meant watching her husband doubt her all over again. Even if it meant letting him think she had chosen another man. Again.
"I'm sorry, Shenzhi…" she whispered to the reflection in the mirror. "This time, I'm doing it for us."
---
Downstairs, the housekeeper was folding Yichen's tiny clothes when she heard the heels.
Click. Click. Click.
She turned, and her jaw nearly dropped. Jiaxuan descended the stairs like a storm wearing lipstick. Hair curled in waves, skin flawless, her dress sinfully red and her eyes cold like crystal.
"Madam… you're going out?" the housekeeper asked, unsure if she should be worried or shocked.
Jiaxuan smiled sweetly, adjusting her clutch bag. "Mm. A friend's housewarming party. Nothing too serious."
The housekeeper's brows furrowed. "Should I prepare a late dinner for you?"
"No, I won't eat much there. But if Yichen wakes up, please give him warm milk and don't forget his blanket. He tends to kick them off." Her voice wavered slightly at the mention of her son, but she quickly masked it.
"And please..." she turned back at the front door, her smile fading, "...don't call my husband. Not yet."
The woman hesitated but nodded slowly. "Of course, Madam."
Jiaxuan walked out into the night, head held high, the wind teasing her long dark hair. The driver Chen Yuze had arranged was already parked down the street, sleek and black, like the kind of transport villains used in old noir films.
She slipped into the backseat, her body poised, her expression unreadable.
She was going to the lion's den. But this time, the lamb had fangs.
AT THE SUITE
The penthouse suite dripped luxury—gold fixtures, velvet furniture, and an intoxicating blend of expensive cologne and decay. From the outside, it was heaven. But Jiaxuan knew better.
It was hell wearing silk.
The door clicked open with a soft hum of automation. Inside stood Chen Yuze, his smug face lit by the warm chandelier light that reflected off the tall windows of the thirty-seventh floor. He turned the moment she entered, eyes widening as though he'd seen a goddess descend from Olympus.
"Jiaxuan…" he breathed out.
She said nothing. Only stepped in, her red gown whispering against her thighs like a warning.
He approached—too fast, too familiar—and before she could retreat, his hands reached for her waist, lips parted as he leaned in with that same arrogance she used to mistake for charm.
She turned her face just in time, dodging his kiss and slipping into his embrace instead. She wrapped her arms around him, her heart thundering with hatred masked in honey.
If only he knew.
If only he remembered how he had stood like this before, smirking as her blood cooled on the concrete floor, his arms wrapped around her half-sister—Lin Meilin, as she watched them through fading eyes.
She held him tighter, suppressing the bile in her throat. Her smile was sweet. Her soul was seething.
"I missed you," he murmured against her hair, his fingers grazing the low cut of her back.
She pulled away slightly, laughing as if shy, her fingers brushing the expensive watch on his wrist. "You haven't changed," she said softly, "Always so forward."
Yuze chuckled, clearly taking it as flirtation. "Can you blame me when you look like this?" He gestured at her, eyes hungry. "You wore red just for me?"
She giggled lightly, eyes sparkling. "I wore it because it matches your taste."
His face froze for half a second, the flicker in his gaze nearly invisible—nearly.
Because she remembered.
In her previous life, it had taken death to understand the depth of his evil. The business deals. The fake pharmaceutical contracts, the drug rings, the women sold like property from the very same suite she was now standing in.
He had let her die thinking she was the fool. That she was disposable.
Now, she was wearing a red dress made of vengeance.
He motioned toward the balcony where a bottle of expensive wine sat chilling in silver ice. "Let's drink to us, hm? You used to love this one. Château Margaux, 1996."
She smiled but didn't move. Her phone vibrated inside her clutch. She pulled it out under the guise of checking the time.
1 new message.
"Contact is inside. Hidden cam activated. Room sweep in progress."
Her stomach tightened—but her smile only grew brighter.
"Yuze," she said sweetly, tucking her phone away. "How's your company doing lately?"
He blinked, caught off guard. "Still standing tall," he replied cautiously. "You know me. I always find a way."
Always find a way. Just like he found a way to let her die and claim it was for the good of the business.
He poured the wine and handed her a glass, but she didn't sip. Instead, she stared down at the rich liquid swirling like blood in a crystal chalice.
"This suite…" he began again, glancing around. "Why'd you choose this one?"
She looked up, innocence painted perfectly on her face. "I just thought it fit you. Luxury, secrecy, taste." She winked. "Besides, you used to say this place had the best view of the city."
"Right," he said, voice a bit uneven. "Just...didn't expect you to remember."
Oh, she remembered everything.
Every lie.
Every woman.
Every scream.
"Let's not stay too long," she added quickly. "Shenzhi will start to notice I'm missing. You know how possessive he is."
He nodded, too eager, too nervous. "Of course. Let's have a toast, then you can run off before your husband comes looking."
She lifted her glass, still untouched. Her smile was sweet, eyes glowing.
But in her mind, she counted down.
Ten minutes till the contact reaches the master suite.
Fifteen until they secure evidence.
Twenty until the monster she was smiling at would fall from grace.
As she raised her glass, he did too, his grin plastered wide.
"To second chances," he toasted.
"To endings," she replied, voice as soft as silk, eyes burning with a truth he'd never see coming.
The wine slid across her tongue like silk, warm and potent.
Château Margaux, 1996. A bottle he'd once promised he'd only open on the day they ruled the world together.
She held the glass between her fingers, eyes never leaving his face.
"Mm," she said lightly. "Still my favorite."
Chen Yuze's smirk widened. "I never forget your taste, Jiaxuan."
She gave a gentle laugh, swirling the wine in her glass as she walked toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. The city below glittered under the night sky, loud and alive — a sharp contrast to the uneasy silence building behind her.
She could feel his gaze on her back. Like before. Always watching, always planning.
But then something strange happened.
He didn't come closer.
He didn't ask her to stay longer.
He didn't suggest the night was young and the bed was soft.
Instead, he simply sat on the edge of the velvet couch, sipping his wine like he had somewhere else to be.
"You're not going to convince me to stay?" she asked playfully, turning around, her tone light but her eyes searching.
He shrugged, still smiling. "Why would I? I know how careful you have to be now. You've got a husband, a kid, and a reputation to protect."
Too easy. Too polite. Too clean.
It made her skin crawl.
"Just like that?" she said, lowering her glass. "You used to get upset when I even hinted at leaving."
"That was before," he replied smoothly. "You're not mine anymore. I respect that."
Liar.
Every cell in her body screamed at her that something was wrong. This wasn't Yuze. Not the man who used to grip her wrists when she tried to leave, the one who sneered when she spoke of boundaries. Not the man who once whispered in her ear that no one else would ever want her.
She masked the sudden wave of unease behind another soft smile.
"Wow," she teased. "Maybe you've really changed."
"Maybe I've matured," he said, downing the last of his wine.
She caught it then — the way his fingers trembled ever so slightly as he set the glass down. The flicker in his eyes. The forced nonchalance in his voice.
He stood up suddenly and walked to the minibar, pretending to busy himself with nothing. "Anyway, you should head home soon, shouldn't you?"
Too eager.
Too prepared to let her go.
It hit her like a slap — he didn't want her to stay. Not because he respected her marriage... but because something had already been put in motion.
The suite. The timing. The smile on his face.
It wasn't goodbye — it was bait.
Her fingers tightened around the stem of the wine glass.
"I guess I'll leave, then," she said softly, stepping forward and placing her glass gently on the table. "Thanks for the drink."
"Of course," he said, walking her to the door, too quickly. "I'll text you."
He opened the door for her — with a grin that felt too triumphant.
She stepped into the hallway, heels clicking softly against the marble, but her mind spun violently. Her stomach churned. The back of her throat burned, and not from the wine.
She pressed the elevator button and smiled at the security camera as if nothing was wrong. But in her clutch, she discreetly pressed a signal.
Silent alarm. Level Yellow. Watch her back.
Because she'd just walked into a trap and sipped the devil's wine.
And he had smiled too easily.
Now she wasn't sure how far the fall would be.
The elevator doors opened with a muted chime. The soft glimmer of the hotel corridor lights spilled into the cabin — too bright, too sharp.
Jiaxuan's legs trembled as she took a single step forward. Her knees nearly buckled.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly. Her heart thudded like a trapped bird in her ribcage. She reached for the cool brass rail along the elevator, gripping it tightly to stay upright. Her palms were damp.
That wine…
Her vision blurred and twisted. Her skin burned. It wasn't fear. It was heat — a low, unnatural heat coursing through her veins like fire licking her insides.
She tasted bitterness on her tongue — not from the drink, but from the betrayal now unfolding in her bloodstream.
Her breath came in short pants. She clenched her jaw.
"They drugged me."
The realization struck like a hammer. Chen Yuze's sudden willingness to let her go, the insistence on tasting the wine, the sly gleam in his eyes — it was never her plan. It was theirs.
Her body trembled, but she willed herself to stay awake.
Her heels tapped clumsily on the marble as she stepped out of the elevator, trying to hold her head high — trying to breathe through the dizziness.
She needed to get to the lobby.
Call for help.
Signal anyone.
But before she could move more than a few steps—
Two men appeared.
Shadows detached from the wall. Dressed in black, sunglasses indoors, expressions blank.
"Miss Jiaxuan," one of them said smoothly. "Your car is ready."
"I didn't call for any car," she muttered, taking a step back.
They moved too quickly.
One grabbed her arm — tight.
She jerked it back. "Don't touch me!"
The other lunged. She turned her elbow sharply into his chest. Her movements were slow — but her will was sharp. Her hand clutched her small purse, trying to press the silent signal button inside.
But one of them noticed — he slapped the purse from her grasp.
"No—!"
She shrieked, punching and kicking, legs thrashing as her body was lifted from the ground. She twisted violently in his grip.
"Let me go! Help! Somebody—!"
They were dragging her toward the parking lot exit at the back — a black car idling near the entrance, windows tinted.
She screamed again, loud and wild, hoping a passerby would hear. But the hallway was empty. This place had been cleared — or warned.
Her nails scraped skin. She bit one of the men on the shoulder.
"Damn it!" he cursed, slamming her against the side of the car.
The pain made her gasp — but it cleared her head for a second. Her eyes met his — hers blazing with fury, his with nothing but apathy.
"You won't get away with this," she hissed, voice strained but defiant.
The door swung open.
"No—no!"
She kicked, shoved, resisted with every drop of strength she had left.
But the drug was working fast. Her limbs betrayed her, becoming heavier, weaker. She fought until her legs buckled and she was shoved into the back seat like a rag doll.
The door slammed shut.
Darkness swallowed her as the locks clicked in place.
The car pulled away, smooth and silent.
But Jiaxuan wasn't done.
Not yet.
Inside her dazed mind, fire still burned.
They thought she was still the same girl from the last life — the one they drugged and framed and killed.
They were wrong.
This time, she had a plan too.
The inside of the car was cold, yet her body burned. Jiaxuan pressed her cheek against the tinted window, hoping the glass would cool her, but it didn't. Not even slightly. The fire running through her veins was getting stronger — a desperate ache boiling inside her, making her skin feel too tight, her lips dry, her throat parched.
She clenched her fists on her lap, trying not to writhe in the seat, trying to fight the twisted warmth spiraling through her core.
She wouldn't beg.
Not like they wanted.
The man in the passenger seat glanced at her through the mirror, eyeing her flushed cheeks, the shallow rise of her chest.
"You'll be alright soon," he said with a mocking tone. "Just be patient. Once we get there, everything will feel better."
Her eyes snapped open.
No.
Her stomach twisted.
She glanced out the window, blinking rapidly, trying to make sense of the road. The car was moving fast, but another vehicle tailed closely behind.
Something about it—
She squinted.
It was a black coupe.
Sleek.
Familiar.
Then the realization hit her.
It was over.
They had arrived.
The car slowed and pulled to a stop near a private gated warehouse. So did the one following.
Her door was yanked open. Cold air rushed in.
Jiaxuan's body shook from exhaustion and the drug that screamed for release inside her, but she didn't cry or scream — she only gritted her teeth, sweat running down her back.
Chen Yuze stepped out of the second car.
A slow, deliberate smile crept up his lips.
He looked at her like a hunter admiring the beast caught in his snare.
His shirt was slightly unbuttoned, his watch flashing in the moonlight. His face carried the arrogance of someone who believed the world had already surrendered.
"Well, well," he said, approaching her slowly. "Look at you… all pretty and obedient. You even wore red. Is that for me?"
He stepped closer and leaned in, audibly inhaling the scent of her hair like a pervert lost in lust.
"God, you smell better than I remembered…"
When he tilted her face to kiss her—
SLAP.
The sound cracked through the night.
His lip split open.
Blood trickled down the corner of his mouth.
He stood frozen, the sting of her palm still echoing across his cheek. Then—
"You bitch—!"
Fury overtook him. He grabbed a handful of her hair, jerking her backward so hard she cried out, her heels stumbling against the gravel.
"Let me go!"
She scratched and kicked, but he slammed her against the car with brutal force. Her shoulder throbbed as it struck the metal.
Still dazed and burning inside, Jiaxuan pushed him off with what little strength she had, rage and adrenaline pulsing through her limbs.
He reached for her again—
She shoved him back with both arms, her nails raking his chest.
He cursed.
And Jiaxuan—desperate, dizzy, wild—ran.
Her legs barely held her weight, but she didn't stop.
She ran from the devil himself.
Heels clicking madly against the pavement, her chest heaving, her head spinning. The night air did little to ease the fire, but the fear of being caught fueled her.
"Catch her!" someone shouted behind her.
She didn't look back.
She couldn't.
Her hands trembled, and her heart was collapsing under the heat in her blood. Every step was a cry against her body, but she pushed forward.
She stumbled into the road—frantic—and waved down a passing cab.
"Please!" she gasped, nearly collapsing against the hood. "Take me to this address—please—now!"
The driver hesitated, seeing her flushed face, her torn dress strap, the blood on her shoulder. "Ma'am, are you—"
"Now!" she screamed. "Please, please—just go!"
He unlocked the door. She flung it open and climbed in.
The car screeched as it sped off.
Behind them, distant shadows gave chase, but they faded quickly into the rearview mirror.
Jiaxuan collapsed against the backseat, her vision darkening, her breath shallow. Her entire body burned with humiliation and chemical fire — but somewhere deep inside her…
She smiled.
She had escaped the devil's trap.