Chapter 1

The cold tiled floor pressed against my cheek. Blood, sticky and warm, pooled near my mouth, tasting of iron. In the distance, I could hear the sounds of a victory feast, the laughter of soldiers loyal to him.

My husband. General David.

He stood over me, his polished black boots reflecting the dim torchlight of the dungeon. His face, once handsome and beloved, was a mask of cold fury.

"Worthless," he spat. The word hit me harder than the back of his hand had moments before. "Your maid, Bethany, had more honor. At least she knew when to end her own life."

Bethany. My sweet, gentle maid. The one who had thrown herself into the general's bed, only to be discarded. Her suicide had been his excuse. Her death was the reason he now tortured me, his wife, accusing me of driving her to it. He believed her lies, every single one. The poison she whispered before she died.

His boot pressed down on the back of my head, grinding my face into the filthy stone. Pain exploded behind my eyes.

"You will die down here," he promised, his voice low and final. "And no one will remember your name."

He was right. I died there, alone and broken, my last breath a ragged gasp of despair.

...

My eyes snapped open.

I was standing in front of a full-length mirror, not in a dungeon, but in a luxurious bridal suite. A cloud of white silk and lace surrounded me. My hair was styled in an elegant updo, and delicate makeup highlighted my features.

Today was my wedding day.

My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic, wild rhythm. The memories, they weren't a dream. They were real. The cold floor, the metallic taste of blood, the crushing weight of David's boot. It was all seared into my soul.

I was Amelia, a former elite special forces operative. But I was also the woman who had died in that dungeon. I had been reborn, sent back to the moment it all began to go wrong.

My fiancé, David, was no longer a ruthless general. He was a charismatic tech CEO, a titan of industry. But I knew the soul hidden beneath the expensive suit was the same. Ambitious. Cruel. Eager for control.

And Bethany. My maid of honor. My best friend in this life. In my last, she was the maid who betrayed me. I knew, with a certainty that chilled me to the bone, that she was about to do it again.

"Amelia? Are you ready?"

My mother' s voice came from the other side of the door. She was a former high-ranking government official, a woman of immense strength and influence. In my past life, I had been too naive to use the power she represented. I wouldn't make that mistake again.

"Almost, Mom," I called out, my voice surprisingly steady.

My plan for this life had been simple happiness. Marry David, the man I thought I loved, and build a future. But the past had returned, a brutal gift of foresight. Revenge wasn't just a desire; it was a necessity.

I walked toward the door of the suite, my silk train whispering behind me. I could hear voices from the adjoining room, David' s room.

Bethany' s voice, soft and breathy. "David, are you sure about this? Marrying Amelia... she doesn't understand you. Not like I do."

Then David' s, a low murmur. "Bethany, don't. Not now."

"I just can't stand the thought of you with her," she whimpered. "I love you. I've always loved you."

The same words. The exact same seduction.

In my past life, I had burst through that door, heartbroken and furious. I had confronted them. My hysteria, my accusations, had played right into their hands. It was the beginning of my ruin.

This time, my hand froze on the doorknob. I did not turn it.

I simply stood there, listening to the betrayal that I knew was coming, that had already happened a lifetime ago. The sounds of a rustling dress, a soft gasp. They were in each other's arms.

A cold calm settled over me. There would be no screaming match. No public drama. Not this time.

I turned away from the door.

My personal security chief, a loyal man named Marcus who had served with me in the special forces, stood a few feet away. He saw the look on my face. His brow furrowed with concern.

"Ma'am? Is everything alright?"

"Everything is fine, Marcus," I said, my voice devoid of emotion. "Plans have changed. We're leaving."

He blinked, confused. "Leaving? But the wedding..."

"There is no wedding," I stated flatly. I walked past him, my steps sure and steady.

As I moved down the corridor, leaving the sounds of my own betrayal behind, the memory of the dungeon flashed in my mind again. The feeling of helplessness. The agony of a slow, painful death. The general's final, contemptuous words.

You will die down here, and no one will remember your name.

A grim smile touched my lips.

He was wrong. They would all remember my name.