POV: Seraphina
"This is fate giving me a second chance," I whispered to myself.
My fingers brushed the smooth silk of the engagement dress hanging before me.
"It's time to rewrite my fate, I said to myself," the words barely left my lips, but they felt heavy, like a promise carved into stone.
The ivory fabric shimmered softly beneath the room lights, delicate embroidery catching every flicker of gold from the chandelier above. It was beautiful and perfect even, the same dress I had worn the night everything ended.
A chill crawled slowly down my spine.
Behind me, I heard the soft shuffle of footsteps.
"Miss Sera, are you okay?" Mary's voice carried quiet concern.
I didn't answer immediately; my gaze remained fixed on the dress as if it might suddenly change into something else, something less cursed.
Instead, I asked quietly, "Mary… what is today's date?"
There was a brief pause, then I finally turned. She stared at me strangely, her brows slightly furrowed behind her glasses. "Today is the twenty-fifth of August," she replied slowly.
Then her expression shifted into worry. "Miss, do you not like the dress?" she asked quickly. "If there's anything wrong with it, I'll contact the designer immediately. They can make adjustments right away."
"Mary," my voice stopped mid-sentence.
She fell silent, then I walked towards her and placed my hands gently on her shoulders. "Calm down," I said softly, "Look at me." She adjusted her glasses and lifted her eyes to mine.
"The dress is beautiful," I continued. Her shoulders relaxed slightly. "But I won't be wearing it," I said to her.
Mary blinked, her mouth opened, closed, then opened again. "But… But Miss…" she paused.
"I'll wear something else," I said.
Her confusion deepened, but she nodded obediently. "Okay, Ma."
She turned as if to leave. "Mary."
She stopped. When she faced me again, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her.
For a moment she froze, clearly caught off guard. I rarely touched anyone. Then slowly, she relaxed and returned the hug, her hand gently patting my back the way someone would comfort a child.
Warmth spread through my chest in a way I hadn't expected.
How strange, in my previous life, I had surrounded myself with people, yet none of them had ever felt genuine.
And yet here was Mary, someone I barely noticed most days, holding me as though I mattered so much.
"Why did it take dying to realize that?" I thought to myself.
She leaned back slightly, studying my face with concern. "Are you sure you're alright?" she asked carefully. Then she hesitated before continuing, "I mean… though it's not my place to say this, but you deserve a good man, Miss."
The moment the words left her mouth, panic flashed across her face. "I'm sorry! I shouldn't have said that."
"It's fine, Mary," I said calmly. Her shoulders lowered in relief.
I gave her a small smile, but there was no warmth in it. "We'll see if this engagement even happens."
Something in my tone must have unsettled her.
Mary faltered slightly before nodding and quietly leaving the room. The door clicked shut behind her.
Silence returned, and with it… the memories.
I turned toward my walk-in closet; the sliding doors opened with a whisper. Inside was a space larger than some apartments. Rows of designer dresses hung in flawless order, their silks, and satins glowing beneath recessed lighting. Shoes lined an entire wall, each pair displayed like art beneath soft illumination. Glass drawers held jewelry resting on velvet lining: diamonds, gold, and platinum.
At the center stood a marble island topped with perfumes and accessories. It looked less like a closet and more like a private boutique.
A space built for a woman who never had to worry about the cost of anything, except for the price she had paid with her life.
My gaze drifted slowly across the rows of dresses. Bright colors, elegant gowns, designer pieces.
Then my hand stopped.
Black, I pulled out a strapless dress that ended just above the knee, simple but seemingly dangerous.
In my previous life, I rarely wore black. I preferred bold colors: reds, emeralds, greens, and golds.
But right now, black felt right. Because for me, tonight wasn't a celebration; it was a battlefield.
I paired it with silver Louboutin heels and placed them beside the dress, and just like that, the memory returned.
The night I died, after the engagement ceremony, Elias had suggested we spend the night in a luxury hotel. "Just the two of us," he had said. "Some quiet time."
I had agreed without hesitation; I trusted him.
God, how stupid I'd been!
Earlier that evening, my stepmother had approached Elias with a bottle of wine; she called it an engagement gift.
At the time, I thought nothing of it, but now… presently I remember the way she looked at him.
A glance, a silent understanding.
How did I miss it? How?
Back in the hotel suite, I had taken a long shower; the day had been exhausting guests, guests, speeches, cameras.
When I stepped out, Elias was waiting, with two glasses sitting on the table; the wine inside them glowed deep red beneath the chandelier light like liquid rubies.
He handed one to me. "Just one drink," he said gently. "A drink to celebrate our future."
His smile had been warm, convincing, and perfect even.
I lifted the glass; the wine tasted smooth, rich, and sweet.
For a moment, nothing happened; the music played softly in the background, Elias watched me across the table, and then, something shifted.
A strange heat bloomed in my stomach; at first it was mild and uncomfortable, like heartburn. I pressed a hand against my abdomen.
"Elias…" I called out softly.
The warmness I had felt twisted suddenly into pain, sharp and violent. It spread through my stomach like fire burning through my veins. I gradually began to lose breath.
"What's… happening…?" I wondered.
My fingers gripped the edge of the table. The pain surged again, stronger and stronger, until it became unbearable.
My stomach lurched violently as nausea rushed up my throat; the chair behind me crashed to the floor as I staggered backward. A metallic taste filled my mouth, then blood… my blood. Dark red splattered across the marble floor, and my vision blurred.
"Elias…" I gasped. Across the room, he stood frozen. At first, he looked shocked, confused, and concerned. I reached for him desperately.
"Help… me…" I cried out.
Another violent cough tore through my chest; more blood followed. The burning inside me spread outward, crushing my lungs, stealing the strength from my limbs, and my knees buckled.
I collapsed against the table, clutching his sleeve weakly as he finally stepped closer. The world dimmed around me, and my hearing faded. And then, for just a moment, the confusion on his face disappeared, and the corner of his mouth lifted. A smirk, cold and satisfied.
A knock on my bedroom door pulled me back to the present. My breathing had grown uneven, my hands were trembling.
"It wasn't an accident," I whispered. The realization struck like lightning: they had used him against me.
My stepmother, Marina, my father, all of them, had used the man I loved to poison me.
And he had watched me die.
Why…? Money, power.
And Marina, of course. A bitter smile touched my lips.
"They're waiting for the engagement tonight," I murmured.
My eyes darkened dimly. "Let's see if it still happens."
I slipped into the black dress; the fabric hugged my figure perfectly, elegant, sharp, smooth, and structured. The silver heels wrapped around my ankles like liquid metal.
I moved to the mirror; my hair was styled into a sleek high bun, exposing my neck and shoulders. A few soft strands framed my face, simple.
Tiny diamond studs sparkled against my ears. A thin silver bracelet rested against my wrist, minimal, precise, and somewhat deadly. My makeup was bold but deliberate.
Dark lashes framed my eyes; a hint of silver shimmer brightened the corners. My lips were painted deep red, the color of danger.
I studied my reflection; I looked fierce intimidating. Like someone walking straight into war, like someone on a revenge mission.
The naive woman who once believed love was enough was gone; this version of me was colder, far more dangerous.
The door opened quietly behind me, and Mary stepped in, tablet in hand.
The moment she saw me, she froze. Her eyes widened. She quickly recovered, but the surprise lingered.
She had worked for me long enough to know one thing: I never wore black.
"Miss Seraphina…" she said slowly, "you look… incredible."
I turned toward her, a faint smile touching my lips. "Thank you, Mary. Is everything ready?"
She nodded immediately, "Yes, Miss. The car is waiting; the guests have arrived. The venue is fully prepared."
Good! Exactly as I remember, exactly as it had been the night everything ended.
I walked past her, my heels clicking softly against the floor; each step sounded like a promise.
At the doorway, I paused. My voice dropped to a whisper, "This time… "My eyes darkened. "I'll decide how this story ends."
And with that, I stepped out. I stepped into the hallway, the sharp click of my heels echoing against the marble floor; servants lowered their heads as I passed, whispering among themselves.
Downstairs, the grand entrance doors stood open; through them, the black limousine waited. Mary hurried beside me, still stealing glances at the black dress.
"Miss… Mr. Elias arrived earlier," she said cautiously. "He's already at the venue."
A slow smile spread across my lips.
Perfect, I whispered within me as I slid into the car, the leather seat cool beneath my fingers, the door closed with a soft thud. As the driver started the engine, I looked out at the fading evening sky. Elias thought tonight was the beginning of our future.
My fingers brushed the silver bracelet on my wrist. But tonight… Tonight his nightmare would begin.
Yet he had no idea.