Chapter 2

In the darkness, ‌moonlight filtering through the window‌ outlined the sharp angles of the man’s face and his ‌piercing gaze‌ – eyes that burned into hers with unsettling intensity. ‌Alexander Barron.‌ ‌Hers.‌ In her past life, Summer Knight had been ‌marooned‌ on his private island by Margaret Blake, only to discover Alexander defied every vicious rumor. Far from a ‌sadistic beast‌, he was ‌devastatingly attractive‌, with an aristocratic aloofness that ‌drew people in like gravity‌. Later, as ‌heir to the Barron empire‌, he’d ‌lavished her with diamonds and silks‌, yet— ‌God, she’d been an idiot.‌ ‌Played‌ by Isabella Knight and James Carter, she’d believed Alexander ‌strong-armed‌ her family into the marriage. She’d ‌betrayed his trust‌, leaked his trade secrets, ‌crippled his fortune‌... then handed him the ‌cyanide-laced whiskey‌. ‌The memory twisted like a knife.‌ Now here he stood—‌warm skin under her fingertips‌, so close she could count his lashes. Her throat tightened; ‌words dissolved into silence‌. ‌After a lifetime of waiting.‌ But this wasn’t the same Summer. ‌Trained in her mother’s medicinal arts‌, she instantly recognized the ‌drug haze‌ in his pupils—‌not recreational, but industrial-grade‌. ‌Then why come to her?‌ His palm ‌cradled‌ her jaw. Then—‌heat, pressure, the dizzying taste of him‌. When they broke apart, his eyes held ‌a promise that scorched her resolve‌. She’d surrender ‌every inch of herself‌—‌he’d owned her soul since before she knew how to spell “regret.”‌ But the Knight estate had ‌ears in every shadow‌. One sound could ‌torpedo‌ his precarious reputation, ‌derail‌ his succession. She knew ‌better than oxygen‌ how much the Barron empire meant to him. “D-don’t…”Her whimper ‌wouldn’t deter a house cat‌. Alexander’s grip ‌only hardened‌, ‌steel fingers‌ circling her wrists. Then—‌white-hot rupture‌. Tears ‌shattered‌ down her cheeks. Above her, Alexander exhaled ‌rough satisfaction‌, voice ‌gravel-deep‌:“Nina… finally mine.” ‌Nina?‌ ‌Men only cry names when they’re wrecked by love.‌ Her pulse ‌stuttered‌. ‌This changed everything.‌ The timeline had shifted. That version where he’d ‌worshipped her unconditionally‌—‌gone‌. Now his heart ‌belonged to a ghost‌. ‌Suddenly, their wedding night made sense.‌ His refusal to consummate, just tracing her brows, murmuring:“It’s you, isn’t it?” ‌Not her.‌ ‌A reflection.‌ ‌A placeholder.‌ Her hope ‌extinguished like a candle in a storm‌. She curled inward, ‌nails biting her palm‌, until his ‌drug-induced exhaustion‌ claimed him. Then—‌silver needles flashing‌, she targeted his pressure points. ‌Whoever Nina was didn’t matter.‌ ‌This debt would be repaid.‌ By dawn, he’d ‌walk into that boardroom pristine‌, thanks to her draining every ounce of strength. As darkness swallowed her, one thought remained: Whatever I owed you last lifetime, I’ll repay it in full this time—no matter what it takes.