Chapter 2
1216 Words
Zoya's POV
I felt suspended.
Like I was hanging in the space between a heartbeat and its echo.
Ruby’s laugh still echoed in my skull as the cold, crystalline voice in my head grew louder.
At first, it was a murmur beneath the static.
Then—
“…wake…”
The word threaded through the void.
Sharp and commanding.
“…wake up…” the impatient voice came again
And suddenly, the darkness fractured.
Light flooded in, almost blinding me in the process.
“Ma’am?”
The voice was clearer now.
Someone was calling me, I tried to open my eyes, but my eyelids refused to lift, weighing down like lead.
The voice came again, a calm whisper this time.
“ Wake up,Ma’am. I’m so sorry to disturb you, but the event planner is asking what theme colour you’ve decided for the Vane Foundation Ball.”
My eyes flew open frantically.
I jolted upright with a gasp. The maid moved away in shock.
My sheets were twisted around me, damp with sweat.
My hands flew to my head. There was no blood or sign of fracture.
No warmth of something leaking down my temple.
I looked at my palms. My fingers were completely fine.
My fingers moved slowly to my left hand.
Dante's diamond ring shone on my finger.
The bedroom door creaked open.
“Ma’am?”
I snapped my head toward the sound so fast my vision blurred.
Another maid froze halfway inside.
Concern etched across her face.
“You were… shouting,” she said carefully. “Is something wrong?”
My voice came out hoarse. “What day is it?”
They shared glances and then blinked. “February second.”
The one close to me replied.
The room tilted.
I swallowed. “What year?”
Now she looked genuinely alarmed.
“Two thousand and twenty-four, ma’am.”
My stomach dropped.
I threw the covers off and stood too quickly. The floor felt unsteady beneath my feet.
The maid rushed forward. “Ma’am, please,are you well?…..should I call Mr. Vane?”
“No!” The word came out sharp enough to make her flinch.
I forced my breathing to slow.
“Don’t call him,” I said more evenly. “I just,I just… had a nightmare.”
The maid hesitated. “You’re pale.”
“I’m fine.”
I walked to the mirror.
The woman staring back at me didn’t look like someone who had been pushed off marble stairs. I looked younger.
Still new to marriage, when I wasn't worried about my barrenness.
A soft knock sounded at the door.
Two light, familiar taps.
Before I could answer, it opened.
“Zoya?”
Ruby stepped in.
She still had that bright smile and her ever so perfect posture like she belonged there.
She took one look at me and frowned. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
If only she knew.
In my first life, I would have crossed the room and hugged her.
I would have laughed and told her I’d just woken up…..I would have been warm.
Instead, I said nothing.
I just stared at her….with hate burning from my eyes into her soul.
Her smile faltered slightly.
“Are you… okay?” she asked.
Still nothing.
A flicker of something unreadable crossed her eyes.
She recovered quickly.
“I brought you coffee,” she said lightly, setting the cup down on my vanity. “Thought you might need it.”
I looked at the cup.
I felt uneasy about anything Ruby gave me to eat or drink. It was probably poisoned or worse.
My gaze lifted slowly to hers.
“I don’t want it,” I said calmly.
Silence.
Ruby blinked. “You don’t… want coffee?, but you love coffee.”
“I said I don’t want it.”
Her expression shifted. Like she was intrigued, studying my new behavior.
“You’re acting strange,” she said softly. “You’ve never spoken to me like that.”
She stepped closer.
Close enough that I could smell her perfume.
The same one she wore the night I died.
“You’re not still upset about me staying here, are you?” she asked gently.
Staying here?
She had already moved in!
And that terrified me more than the reset itself.
Ruby tilted her head. “Dante said the east wing was ready for me….I didn't mean to intrude”
The east wing.
My wing.
I watched her carefully. “When did you speak to Dante?”
“This morning,” she replied smoothly. “Before you woke up.”
My heart skipped.
They were already having an affair behind my back. I was too late.
Ruby reached for my hand.
I pulled it back instinctively.
Her fingers froze mid-air.
Now she was truly confused.
“Zoya…” she whispered. “What’s wrong with you?... you've been acting weird all morning, your maids said you woke up screaming. Is this because you're thinking about a baby?, it'll happen when the time is right.”
She smiled and held my hands so warmly anyone would've fallen for her act. Former me would've fallen.
I met her eyes fully for the first time.
Returning the fake smile.
I walked past Ruby and rang the small silver bell on my vanity.
The maid appeared within seconds, still nervous.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Tell Mr. Vane I need to see him immediately.”
Ruby frowned. “Zoya… you just woke up. Maybe you should rest before making decisions.”
I looked at her.
Rest?
That’s what I did in my first life.
I rested.... Trusted and waited for my own blood to betray me.
And look where that got me. Not anymore.
“I’ve rested enough,” I said calmly.
The maid hesitated. “May I tell him what it concerns?”
Ruby gave a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “Yes, what emergency requires a boardroom meeting at eight in the morning?”
I didn’t look away from her when I answered.
“Tell him,” I said evenly, “that I’d like our lawyers present.”
The maid’s eyes widened.
Ruby went very still.
“Lawyers?” Ruby repeated softly.
“Yes.”
“Zoya…” Ruby’s voice lost its sweetness. “What are you doing?”
I tilted my head slightly.
What am I doing?
“You’ve barely spoken to Dante in the last twelve hours,” she pressed. “You two were fine yesterday. You are planning the biggest foundation ball in all of New York.”
I walked toward the window slowly, sunlight warming my skin.
In my first life, I would have cried before saying this.
This time, I felt nothing. Not even a feeling of sadness for our marriage.
“I’ve changed my mind,” I said.
Ruby stepped closer. “About what?”
I turned back to face her.
The maid shifted anxiously. “Ma’am… what should I tell Mr. Vane exactly?”
The room went silent.
Even the birds outside seemed to pause.
Ruby searched my face, confusion turning into something sharper.
“Zoya,” she warned softly.
I met her eyes— holding her gaze and smiled
“Tell my husband,” I said, voice steady and clear,
“I want a divorce.”
- Writer
