Chapter 2

The water was a crushing weight, a cold, dark blanket pulling me down. My lungs burned for air. I was dying. Again.

But this wasn't a memory. This was real.

A fierce, desperate will to live surged through me. I would not die here. I would not let them win. Not this time.

I clawed my way towards the surface, my muscles screaming in protest. My head broke through the water, and I gasped, sucking in a painful breath of air.

Across the pool, I saw them. Alexander was wrapping his jacket around a shivering Isolde, whispering in her ear. Alaric, Darrius, and Jefferey stood around them like guards, their backs to me.

They hadn't even bothered to look for me.

In my past life, I never understood why Alexander hated me so much. I had loved him. I had given him everything. Now I knew. He never saw me as a person. I was a prize, a stepping stone. My love was an inconvenience, my very existence a cage he wanted to escape.

I had to survive. I had to live to see them all fall.

I kicked my legs, my movements clumsy and heavy, and slowly pulled myself towards the edge of the pool. My fingers scraped against the concrete as I hauled my waterlogged body out. I lay there, coughing and shivering on the cold ground, a mess of trembling limbs.

No one came to help.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Darrius turned. "Oh, Azalea. You're out. We were so worried."

He walked over, his face a perfect mask of concern. "We had to get Isolde first. She can't swim. You're a strong swimmer, we knew you'd be fine."

Alaric and Jefferey nodded in agreement, their expressions just as fake.

"Are you okay?" Alaric asked, reaching out a hand.

I flinched away from his touch. I looked at their faces, these men I had once called friends. Their lies were so practiced, so easy.

"I'm fine," I said, my voice hoarse. I pushed myself to my feet, my wet dress clinging to me. I was cold, but my anger burned hot enough to keep me warm.

I refused their offers of a towel, of a change of clothes. I didn't want their false comfort. I didn't want anything from them ever again.

I walked away, leaving them by the pool. I could feel their eyes on my back.

"Azalea, wait!" Alexander called out.

I didn't stop. I walked back into the penthouse, dripping water on the expensive rugs, and went straight to my room. I locked the door behind me.

I stripped off the wet clothes and stood under a hot shower, trying to wash away the feeling of the pool water, the feeling of their betrayal. But it was a stain on my soul, one that could only be cleansed with revenge.

Later, my phone buzzed with messages.

From Alaric: Hope you're feeling better. Let me know if you need anything at all.

From Darrius: So sorry about what happened. We should have been faster. Let me take you to dinner to make it up to you.

From Jefferey: Thinking of you. Here's a little something to cheer you up. A notification followed. A deposit of a hundred thousand dollars into my account.

They thought they could buy my forgiveness. They thought I was the same naive girl who would be placated by empty words and expensive gifts.

I deleted the messages without replying.

The next few days were a blur of fake apologies and grand gestures. Flowers arrived by the truckload. Alaric sent me a diamond bracelet I'd admired last year. Darrius offered to fly me to Paris for a shopping spree. They were trying to appease the girl from my past life, but she was dead and gone.

I ignored it all.

They invited me to a high-profile charity auction, an event I used to love. I knew Alexander and Isolde would be there. I knew it was a trap, another stage for their little drama.

I accepted the invitation.

I saw them the moment I walked in. Alexander stood with his arm around Isolde, who was dressed in a simple but elegant gown. She looked out of place, a little mouse among lions, but Alexander's presence gave her an air of importance.

He saw me and his smile tightened. He whispered something to Isolde, and she looked over at me, her eyes wide with a practiced innocence that made my stomach turn.

He steered her away, a clear and deliberate snub.

Alaric and Darrius were at my side in an instant.

"Don't mind him," Darrius said, placing a comforting hand on my arm. "He's just being a jerk."

"He doesn't deserve you," Alaric added.

I wanted to laugh. I wanted to scream at them, to expose their hypocrisy to the entire room. But I held my tongue. It wasn't time yet.

I looked at Darrius's hand on my arm and felt a wave of nausea. This was the same hand that would one day help push me off a boat.

I pulled my arm away. "I can handle myself."

They exchanged a look, confused by my coldness.

"Azalea," Alaric said, his voice soft. "We're all waiting for your decision. Who will you choose?"

I gave them a small, enigmatic smile. "You'll find out soon enough."

The uncertainty in their eyes was a small, satisfying victory. Let them squirm. Let them wonder.

Alexander was clearly trying to make a point. He paraded Isolde around the room, buying her expensive champagne, introducing her to influential people. For every glance I sent his way, he would pull her closer, laugh a little louder.

It was all a performance for my benefit. A way to show me what I was missing, to make me jealous and desperate.

In my past life, it would have worked. I would have been heartbroken.

Now, I felt a strange sense of peace. The man I loved was a phantom. The real Alexander Booth was this cruel, manipulative stranger. And I was free of him.

Then, the final item of the auction was announced. A sapphire necklace, known as "The Heart of the Ocean." It wasn't just a piece of jewelry. It was legendary, once owned by a queen, said to bring eternal love to its owner.

More importantly, it was the necklace my father had given my mother on their wedding day. After he passed, she donated it to this charity in his memory.

I had to have it. It was a piece of my family, a piece of a love that was real and true. It was everything my life with Alexander would have been a lie of.