The first thing Ariella felt was pain.
Not the sharp, sudden kind—but the dull, suffocating ache of betrayal settling deep in her chest, the kind that never really left, even in death.
So this is hell, she thought.
Then she heard applause.
Loud. Polite. Celebratory.
Her fingers twitched.
Ariella's eyes snapped open.
Crystal chandeliers glimmered above her. White roses lined the walls. The scent of champagne and expensive perfume filled the air.
And standing in front of her—smiling like a prince who had just won everything—was Daniel Royce.
Her fiancé.
Her executioner.
"Everyone," Daniel said warmly, lifting her hand, "thank you for being here to witness the beginning of our forever."
Ariella froze.
Her gaze dropped to their interlocked fingers. The diamond ring on her hand caught the light, blindingly familiar.
No.
Her heart slammed violently against her ribs.
This wasn't hell.
This was five years ago.
The engagement banquet.
The night her life officially began to fall apart.
Her breath hitched. In her last life, she had stood right here, smiling like a fool, believing love could protect her. Three years later, she would be arrested. Framed. Abandoned.
Daniel would testify against her.
She would rot in prison while he climbed to the top.
And Lucien Blackwood—
Her eyes flicked instinctively to the corner of the hall.
There he was.
Tall. Dressed in black. Watching.
Just like before.
Lucien Blackwood didn't clap. He never did. He only observed, sharp eyes unreadable, as if the entire room were a board and the people mere pieces.
In her past life, Ariella had begged him for help.
He had refused.
Now, their eyes met.
Something flickered in his gaze—interest, perhaps. Or recognition.
Ariella felt a chill.
Daniel leaned closer, whispering, "Smile, Ari. Everyone's watching."
Her stomach twisted.
Smile?
In her past life, she smiled.
This time—
Ariella gently pulled her hand away.
The music stuttered. Conversations faltered.
Daniel's smile stiffened. "Ariella?"
She turned to face the guests, her expression calm, elegant… deadly.
"I'm sorry," she said softly. "But this engagement—"
Gasps rippled through the hall.
Daniel's grip tightened on her wrist. His voice dropped. "Don't joke like this."
She met his eyes.
Eyes she once loved.
Eyes that watched her dragged away in handcuffs.
"I'm not joking," she replied. "I won't marry you."
Silence slammed down like a blade.
Daniel laughed awkwardly. "She's nervous. Ari, stop—"
Ariella stepped back.
"This man," she continued, her voice steady, "is not who you think he is."
Daniel's face darkened.
And then—
A slow, deliberate clap echoed through the hall.
Lucien Blackwood.
Every head turned.
He approached them unhurriedly, his presence commanding the room without effort. He stopped in front of Ariella, eyes locked on hers.
"Interesting," he said quietly. "Miss Mbeki… it seems you've changed."
Her pulse raced.
She lifted her chin. "People who die once tend to."
Something sharp flashed in his eyes.
Lucien smiled.
And in that moment, Ariella understood something terrifying—
In rejecting one devil,
she had just caught the attention of a far worse one.