A blinding white light pierced her retinas. The deafening crash of a live symphony orchestra slammed into her eardrums.
Gemma gasped. Her lungs expanded violently, sucking in air as if she had just breached the surface of freezing water.
Her hands flew to her abdomen. She expected to feel the warm, sticky pooling of her own blood. She expected the tearing agony of the bullet wound that had just ended her life.
Instead, her trembling fingers met the cool, smooth friction of heavy silk.
Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic, erratic rhythm that made her chest physically ache.
Gemma gripped the edge of the mahogany vanity table and forced herself upright. Her legs felt like lead.
She stared into the massive mirror. The face staring back at her was flawless. The skin was tight, glowing, and completely devoid of the jagged scar that had marred her left cheek for the last five years of her life.
Her breath hitched and stopped completely in her throat.
A sharp, frantic knock rattled the heavy dressing room door.
"Gemma! Open up, hurry!"
Katelyn's voice. It was hushed, urgent, and laced with a familiar, sickening sweetness.
That voice acted like a poison-laced key, instantly unlocking every agonizing memory of her past life-the betrayal, the ruined face, and finally, the cold barrel of the gun. The towering hatred surged like molten lava, obliterating the initial haze of her rebirth, leaving behind nothing but a shockwave of pure, unadulterated murderous intent straight to Gemma's brain. Her fingers curled into the fabric of her silk dress, gripping it so hard her knuckles turned stark white.
She snatched the phone off the vanity. The screen lit up.
The date glowing in stark white numbers confirmed the impossible. It was exactly ten years ago. The day of her engagement party.
The door handle rattled violently. Katelyn found it locked.
"Gemma, Jair is waiting in the rain! If you don't leave now, you'll be trapped!" Katelyn hissed through the wood.
Gemma swallowed the bile rising in her throat. She forced the muscles in her face to relax, burying the towering hatred deep into her gut.
She marched to the door and yanked it open.
Her eyes, cold and dead as a shark's, locked onto the woman standing in the hallway.
Katelyn physically recoiled. She took a half-step back, the rehearsed words of fake sympathy instantly dying in her throat.
It took Katelyn exactly one second to recover. Her face morphed into a mask of exaggerated panic.
She lunged forward, reaching out to grab Gemma's wrist.
Gemma didn't even blink. She shifted her weight, turning her shoulder a fraction of an inch.
Katelyn's hand grasped empty air.
Confusion flashed across Katelyn's eyes. She quickly masked it with a harsh whisper. "If we don't move right this second, the security team will lock down the perimeter."
"And Brion?" Gemma asked.
The name scraped against her throat. A visceral image of Brion's blood-soaked body shielding hers from the explosion flashed behind her eyes. Her chest tightened painfully.
"Why would I run from him?" Gemma asked, her voice dripping with a dark, mocking amusement.
Katelyn's eyes widened. "Because of Jair! He's freezing out there for you. You said you loved him!"
Gemma stared at the pathetic display. Her trained instincts, honed through years of surviving in the underground, easily bypassed the fake tears and locked onto the raw, naked greed burning in Katelyn's pupils.
Heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor. The head butler, flanked by two earpiece-wearing security guards, was marching straight toward them.
Panic seized Katelyn's features. She reached out again, aiming to physically drag Gemma toward the emergency stairwell.
Gemma's hand shot out. Her fingers clamped down on Katelyn's wrist like a steel vice. She pressed her thumb directly into the cluster of nerves just below the joint.
Katelyn gasped, her knees buckling slightly as a sharp, shooting pain paralyzed her arm.
The butler stopped a few feet away. He eyed the two women with deep suspicion. "Miss Vargas. The ceremony is about to begin."
Gemma released the pressure on Katelyn's wrist instantly. She curved her lips into the flawless, empty smile of a high-society heiress.
"I'll be right down," Gemma said smoothly.
The butler gave a stiff nod and turned on his heel.
Katelyn cradled her red, throbbing wrist against her chest. "Are you out of your mind?" she hissed, her voice trembling with genuine anger.
Gemma stepped into Katelyn's personal space. The air between them turned suffocatingly cold.
"Keep your dirty little thoughts in the dark where they belong," Gemma whispered.
Katelyn stumbled backward. Her spine hit the wallpapered wall with a soft thud. A cold sweat broke out on the back of her neck.
Gemma turned her back on her. She walked to the vanity and picked up the velvet box. Inside lay the multi-million dollar diamond necklace Brion had sent her.
She lifted the heavy platinum chain and fastened it around her own neck. The cold diamonds settled perfectly over the small mole on her collarbone.
Her reflection in the mirror was no longer a victim. It was a predator.
Katelyn stood frozen in the doorway, too terrified to step inside. She watched the prey she had spent years grooming calmly fix her makeup.
Gemma picked up a crystal flute of champagne from the side table. She downed the burning liquid in one continuous swallow, letting the alcohol burn away the last lingering tremors of her rebirth.
She set the glass down with a sharp clink.
Her heels clicked against the hardwood floor as she walked right past Katelyn, not giving her a single glance. She headed straight down the corridor toward her father's private study.
Below them, the muffled voice of the MC echoed through the grand hall, announcing the imminent arrival of the bride-to-be.
Gemma kept her eyes fixed on the heavy oak door ahead. She was going to take everything back.
Clara returned home, exhausted, a box of medicine in her hand.
She took her medicine, but instead of resting, she started packing.
The moment she thought of what she had seen at the hospital, the home that once felt warm now only suffocated her.
Her phone vibrated. It was Vivian calling.
"Clara, want to go shopping? It's your birthday today. I got you a present." Vivian's voice was bright and gentle, just like it had always been.
Hearing that familiar voice, Clara felt her chest tighten, like she could barely breathe.
She didn't want to go, but before she could answer, the front door swung open.
Vivian walked in as if she belonged there. Clara had once trusted her completely, treated her like family, even given her the door code.
Now that she thought about it, it had only made things easier for Vivian and Julian.
Vivian didn't seem to notice anything was wrong. The moment she saw Clara, she slipped her arm through hers like always.
"Clara, why are all your clothes out?" Vivian smiled, eyes curving with warmth. "Going all out just to shop with me? You didn't have to. Though honestly, you look good in anything."
Clara said nothing.
The scene from the hospital hallway replayed over and over in her mind. Julian's voice, full of emotion, saying, "You're the only one I've ever loved." Vivian's trembling reply, "You can't abandon her right now. I won't break up with you."
Every word felt like a poisoned needle, piercing the softest part of her heart.
Betrayed by the two people she trusted most, Clara felt like the world had already ended.
Lost in a daze, she let Vivian pull her along to the mall.
Inside a luxury boutique, Vivian led her straight to a display case.
"Look, I spent forever picking this out for you."
She carefully took out a deep blue velvet box. Inside was a gemstone bracelet, its pendant shaped like a tiny crescent moon. On the back, a line was engraved, "Always shining for you."
Clara froze.
It was something she had once said in passing during college.
Back then, she had stayed up all night working on a project, with Vivian keeping her company until dawn. Looking out the window, she had said, "If someone could be like the moon, always there, always shining for me… that would be enough."
She had long forgotten it. Vivian hadn't.
"I remember you said the moon was your favorite." Vivian fastened the bracelet gently around her wrist, her eyes shining. "Happy birthday, Clara. From now on, I'll be here for every one."
Clara's eyes burned, and a tangle of emotions tore at her heart as if it would split in two.
Growing up in the Sterling family, her birthdays had never been anything more than a formality at family banquets.
Her father, Victor Sterling, and her mother, Margaret Sterling, would be busy entertaining guests. The staff would bring out the cake. Clara would make the first cut, pose for photos, smile, and then it would be over.
No one ever asked what she wanted. No one ever remembered what she liked.
Not until she met Vivian.
Vivian had once saved up from her part-time jobs to buy Clara an out-of-print poetry collection she loved.
She had knitted Clara a scarf by hand, uneven stitches and all, yet it had kept her warm through an entire winter.
She had secretly recorded their little moments together and made them into a video for Clara.
Clara had always believed that, if nothing else, there was at least one person in this world who truly loved her.
But the very person who had promised to always shine for her was secretly planning a future with Julian behind her back.
"Thank you for still remembering my birthday." Clara spoke softly, her voice a little hoarse.
Vivian noticed nothing unusual and kept gesturing excitedly. "I also ordered your favorite chestnut cake. We'll go to our usual place later, that café by the river. Remember?"
Clara nodded, but her gaze fell to the side of Vivian's neck. There was a faint red mark there, like the trace of someone's kiss.
Then Clara suddenly asked, her voice very soft, "Vivian, are you seeing someone? Why didn't you ever tell me? I'd love to meet your boyfriend."
Vivian froze. She instinctively touched her neck, her cheeks flushing slightly before she quickly covered it up. "Oh… we haven't known each other long. It's not serious yet. Once things are settled, I'll definitely introduce him to you."
Clara watched the way Vivian avoided her eyes, and the last fragile thread of hope in her heart snapped.
How she wished Vivian would just tell her the truth.
Then she could simply turn and leave, instead of having to keep playing along with this ridiculous performance.
But they insisted on making her the fool left in the dark.
"Is that so?" Clara tugged at the corner of her mouth, her smile bitter. "That's wonderful."
She gently placed the gift box back into Vivian's hand and turned to leave.
Only to run straight into a firm embrace.
The familiar scent of cedar washed over her.
Clara stiffened and looked up into Julian's eyes.
He wore a dark gray coat, his expression carrying its usual lazy ease. But the moment he saw her, a flicker of panic crossed his eyes before he quickly forced it down.
"Clara? What are you doing here?" he asked, reaching for her wrist.
Clara stepped back sharply, avoiding his touch.
At that moment, Vivian spoke softly, a hint of reproach in her tone. "Julian, how could you forget what day it is? It's Clara's birthday."
Julian froze. He really had forgotten.
Clara wanted to leave.
But a warm hand gently closed around her wrist.
It was Vivian.
"Clara, please don't go, okay?" Her voice trembled slightly. "Ever since you remarried, we've barely spent any time together… I just want you to shop with me for a little while. Just a little while, please?"
Clara lowered her eyes and looked at that hand.
Once, that hand had held hers all night when she had a fever. It had hugged her while she cried after her first divorce. It had wiped away her tears when Victor and Margaret announced that she was not their real daughter.
But now, that same hand had just slipped out of Julian's grasp, only to reach for her again.
How ironic.
Clara said nothing. She simply tried to pull her hand free.
Just then, Julian strode over.
His gaze burned with concern, but it was not for Clara. His eyes landed on Vivian's face, his tone edged with reproach. "Vivian, you look awful. I'm taking you to the hospital."
Vivian shook her head, her eyes reddening. "I'm not going. Clara hasn't agreed to have cake with me yet…"
"If she doesn't want to, then forget it!" Julian's voice darkened. At last, he turned to Clara, his eyes cold. "Clara, Vivian has given you everything she has. You can't even spare her this little bit of time? Do you even feel anything?"
Clara let out a faint, bitter smile. "Julian, you're right. I don't."
Julian looked at Clara's expressionless face, and a sudden wave of panic rose in his chest. Did she know something?
Clara tried again to pull free from Vivian's hand. Vivian seemed to twist her wrist slightly, and her brows drew together.
Julian's eyes darkened. He stepped forward. "Clara, you hurt Vivian."
"Julian!" Vivian suddenly raised her voice and rushed in front of Clara, spreading her arms. "Don't talk to Clara like that!"
Julian froze. "Vivian?"
"I said I'm not going to the hospital!" Vivian's eyes were red, her voice shaking, yet unusually firm. "Either you leave right now, or you stay and spend Clara's birthday with her. Choose."
"But you look terrible. What if—"
"There is no what if!" Vivian cut him off, tears finally falling. "It's Clara's birthday today. Are you going to celebrate it with her or not?"
Julian went still and instinctively looked at Clara.
Clara had lowered her head, her long hair hiding her face, but the slight tremble of her shoulders betrayed her.
Julian clicked his tongue, as if trying to cover the panic in his heart. "Fine, fine. I'll celebrate it with her, okay?"
Vivian took a deep breath and turned to Clara, her voice softening. "Clara… it's your birthday today. I ordered a cake, bought you a present, and booked a table at your favorite café… Please don't leave, okay?"
Clara's eyes burned.
How badly she wanted to believe this was real.
But she knew better than anyone that this was only another performance put on by the two of them.
"Thank you for the gift. I really like it. As for the cake… you two can have it."
With that, she turned and left.
Silence fell behind her.
A few seconds later, she heard Julian say quietly to Vivian, "I'll take you home."
"No." Vivian avoided his hand. "If you treat her badly, I'll leave right now. I'll disappear forever, and you'll never find me again."
Julian was silent for a long time before finally giving in. "Fine. I'll treat her well."
Clara did not look back, but her steps slowed for a moment.
So Julian's tenderness toward her had only been an illusion created by Vivian's words. How ridiculous. Vivian had been with Julian just to make him treat Clara better.
Clara kept walking, every step feeling as if she were treading on the edge of a blade.
She should have hated Vivian.
But she couldn't bring herself to.
Because Vivian truly loved her.
And she truly loved Julian too.
But in this world, some things could never coexist.
