Jade Quinn froze the moment Ethan Ford spoke her sister's name.
"It's Lila again… she's already waiting for you downstairs," Ethan said calmly as he withdrew his hand from her cheek. His eyes, dark and unreadable, returned to their usual coldness.
"Lila is here?" Jade's voice trembled.
In an instant, her mind dragged her back to that abandoned factory…
Lila's sweet, innocent smile twisting into a cruel smirk…
The echo of her laughter bouncing off metal walls…
The sight of blood pooling beneath her feet…
The explosion that took everything—her life and the life of the man who protected her.
The memory still felt too real, too raw.
She wasn't going back to that version of herself—not again.
Not when she had been given another chance.
"Mhm." Ethan straightened his suit, adjusting the cuffs with rigid precision. He usually couldn't tolerate anything dirty touching him—yet here he was, standing in front of her, not caring that he'd just held her with hands unwashed, tie undone.
For him, she was the only exception.
"Should we go down together?" Jade whispered. Her hands were shaking. She hated how small her voice sounded, but fear curled around her chest like cold vines.
Ethan blinked slowly, almost confused.
Go down… together?
When had she ever asked him that?
"Wait for me," she said quickly. "I'll be fast."
Jade hopped off the bed, landing lightly on the soft carpet. She rushed to the closet, swinging the doors open, only to pause.
Right.
She had thrown away every piece of clothing Ethan bought her.
Back then, she had been angry… spiteful… reckless. She hated him—or at least she thought she did—so she tossed everything without a second thought. Which meant…
The closet was filled with men's suits. Ethan's.
Jade turned her head slightly, watching him from the corner of her eye. He was lost in thought and hadn't noticed her dilemma.
Of course. Typical Ethan. Cold, distant, unreadable.
"Great…" she muttered under her breath.
Her options were simple:
Go downstairs wrapped in a blanket, looking like a runaway ghost…
Or wear something of his.
She looked back at the closet.
Fine.
Jade sighed quietly, then reached for a crisp white shirt. It was neatly ironed, its fabric soft and cool between her fingers. She didn't know designer brands, but she wasn't stupid—Ethan Ford didn't wear cheap things. Everything on him was custom-made, hand-stitched, perfect.
Without hesitation, Jade slipped off her white nightgown. The cool air kissed her bare skin as she pulled Ethan's shirt on, not bothering to hide herself. The shirt hung slightly loose on her, stopping mid-thigh, hugging her waist in a way that made her look even more striking.
She glanced down at herself.
Not bad.
The shirt gave her a soft and dangerous aura—like a woman who could ruin a man's life with a single smile.
She raised her bright eyes at Ethan, waiting for him to say something.
He stared.
"You're wearing that?" Ethan asked, surprise leaking into his usually calm voice.
Jade nodded. "Is it… not okay?"
"That shirt is mine," he said. "I've worn it."
"I know," Jade replied lightly. "That's why I want to wear it."
Ethan froze.
This wasn't the Jade he knew. The old Jade hated having anything of his near her. She wouldn't even accept a tissue he handed her, let alone wear something he had already worn.
He swallowed hard, jaw tightening.
Was she pretending?
Acting?
Planning something?
Or had last night changed her?
He forced his eyes away from her. If he stared any longer, he would lose control.
"Go downstairs," Ethan said, his voice deeper than before. "Your sister is waiting."
"Okay. Don't forget what you promised me," Jade chimed with a soft smile.
She bounced toward the stairs like a playful little fairy.
But the moment she reached the top of the staircase, her steps slowed. Her fingers curled around the railing as she saw the familiar silhouette downstairs.
Lila Quinn.
Jade flicked her long hair back, exposing her delicate jawline and cold, stunning features.
"Sis!"
Lila turned around instantly, eyes sparkling with fake affection.
Jade walked down the stairs with a cold, indifferent "Mm."
Her gaze slid over Lila's overly-fitted dress. The neckline—originally modest—had been tugged down almost to her chest. Lila looked like she was on her way to seduce a billionaire.
Oh wait. She was.
Jade's lips curled ironically.
Her sister—sweet, innocent Lila—who Jade had protected her whole life…
was the same person who had shoved her into death's embrace without hesitation.
Who had smiled as Jade died.
Who had helped Adrian Fang destroy Ethan.
Who had murdered the man Jade loved in her past life.
Jade's nails dug into her palm.
She swallowed the burning hatred rising in her throat.
Not again.
This time she would not die.
This time she would take everything back.
Lila blinked awkwardly at Jade's coldness.
"Sis… why are you acting like that?" Lila asked softly, pretending to be hurt. "I came to check on you."
"Check on me?" Jade tilted her head, her smile cold. "What is there to check?"
Lila stiffened.
The old Jade would've run into her arms.
But this Jade… this Jade felt like a completely different person.
Lila recovered quickly, plastering on her gentle, sisterly expression.
"I know you're upset," she whispered. "It's my fault for not taking you to meet Adrian last night. He waited for you for so long…"
Adrian Fang.
Jade's heart darkened at the name.
Adrian, the man who betrayed Ethan.
The man who set Ethan up with stolen intelligence.
The man whose actions made Ethan a wanted criminal.
The man who indirectly caused Ethan's death.
Jade's jaw tightened.
She would destroy him.
Lila took a step closer, reaching for Jade's hand.
Jade immediately stepped back.
"I have a cleanliness obsession. Don't touch me," she said coldly.
The meaning was clear:
You are dirty. Don't lay a finger on me.
Lila didn't catch the insult. She only thought Jade was angry.
"Sis… are you still mad? I tried to help you, you know. I tried to stop Ethan last night but…"
She blushed, looking down at her feet shyly.
Jade noticed the way she said Ethan's name—like she had the right to say it.
Disgust tightened Jade's chest.
Lila looked up again. "Brother Ethan—"
"Call him that again," Jade interrupted sharply, "and I'll break your mouth."
Lila's eyes widened.
Jade stepped forward, her presence suddenly heavy and cold.
"I'm your sister," Jade said. "Ethan is my husband. According to seniority, you should call him brother-in-law."
Lila froze.
Jade's tone sharpened, icy and merciless.
"If you don't want to call him that, fine. Call him 'Mr. Ford' like everyone else. But you—" her voice lowered into a deadly whisper, "—are not qualified to call him Ethan."
Lila's heart thumped violently.
This wasn't the Jade she knew.
The Jade she knew hated Ethan.
The Jade she knew always snapped at him.
The Jade she knew would rather die than admit her marriage.
But now…
Now Jade was fiercely defending him.
Lila's stomach knotted in confusion.
What happened last night?
Had Ethan done something to her?
Did Jade finally break?
Lila bit her lip, pretending to be teary.
"Sis… are you angry because of last night? It was my fault," she said softly. "I should've stopped him but… Brother Ethan…"
She trailed off again in embarrassment.
She couldn't admit the truth:
That she had taken off half her clothes last night—hoping Ethan would look at her—but he hadn't even spared her a glance. Not one.
Before Jade could respond, footsteps sounded from behind them.
A tall man with warm eyes and gentle features entered the foyer.
Ryan Han.
Lila's expression brightened immediately.
"Oh, Ryan!" she called sweetly. "You're here!"
Jade looked at him calmly.
Ryan Han…
A man who would one day risk his life for her.
A man who died because of her sister's lies.
Another soul lost in the fire of her past.
Jade inhaled slowly.
Not this time.
She would rewrite every fate.
Every ending.
Every betrayal.
One by one.
Starting with the girl who was smiling sweetly at her right now.
Lila Quinn.
The sister who killed her.