Chapter 11

Steam filled the bathroom glass in a thick mist. The constant rush of water made it impossible to stay calm. Alexander let out a low, frustrated sigh. He yanked at his tie, feeling the burn inside him grow hotter by the second. Grabbing the glass of red wine nearby, he downed a huge gulp. The chill did nothing to cool the fire raging in his chest. Then, all of a sudden, the water stopped. "Mr. Brooks, why are you still here?" Vivian stood at the bathroom door in a robe, brows slightly furrowed, expression puzzled. Alexander glanced at the bigger bedroom outside and felt a wave of regret wash over him. Why on earth had he booked the presidential suite? His eyes fell on Vivian’s dripping wet hair, and he quickly found himself an excuse. "I didn’t want you catching a cold." He got up and pulled a hair dryer from the drawer. "Come here, Vivian." Vivian looked at him and couldn’t help but smile inwardly. In her previous life, Alexander was all about action. He hardly ever spoke to her, and when they did "communicate," it was always in bed. Now, watching him put on this concerned act—even lying with a straight face—was honestly funny to her. Still, she walked over without complaint. Alexander gently pressed her shoulders, guiding her to sit on the sofa. Standing behind her, he casually ran his fingers through her damp, silky hair. The only sound left in the room was the low hum of the hair dryer. He still hadn’t figured out a reason to stay longer when he noticed Vivian slowly slumping over and falling asleep right on the sofa. Alexander switched off the dryer, crouched down, and stared at her for a moment. Then he carefully scooped her up and walked to the soft, wide bed. Lying down beside the girl in his arms, he felt completely content. Meanwhile, deep into the night at the Knight residence. For the first time ever, all four Knight siblings—who rarely even saw each other—were gathered in the study. "I had a dream," said Elijah Knight, the eldest and heir to the Knight Group, breaking the heavy silence. A nightmare. One that left him feeling like his heart had been ripped apart. Lucas Knight took a deep breath. "Yeah, me too." "That wasn’t just a dream!" Julian Knight slammed his fist on the desk, eyes blazing. "A second chance." Tristan Knight, the youngest genius of the family, stared coldly with eyes that felt like knives. Elijah’s whole body shuddered. Lucas and Julian exchanged shocked glances, and then it hit them. The truth. Yeah. It was real—they had all been reborn. They'd gone back five years. Back to the year they mistook someone else for their baby sister. Those past tragedies wouldn’t happen again, not if they had anything to say about it. They’d spend the rest of their lives making it up to the real Vivian—the sister they once hurt so badly. "I just called Richard Grant. He said Vivian’s already been taken by Alexander," Elijah said with a frown, clearly frustrated he didn’t act sooner. "Then we’re getting her back," Lucas said, springing to his feet. "Yeah! We’re bringing her home!" Julian stood up, fired up. Tristan sneered. "Did you two forget about the J League?" Both Lucas and Julian froze in place. The J League. That underground organization that, in the past life, went full scorched earth after Alexander died—hunting down everyone involved and avenging him without mercy. They’d heard rumors of the J League before. Since it kept its hands clean and stuck to unwritten rules, the Knights never came in contact with them. It wasn’t until they tried to avenge the fake sister, Daphne, and got Alexander killed… that they learned the J League’s leader—code name J—was actually from the Brooks family.