Chapter 1: The Forgotten Daughter
The morning sun poured gently through the sheer curtains, warming the soft pastel tones of Selena Hart’s bedroom. Everything looked as perfect as a storybook picture—silk sheets, fresh peonies on her nightstand, and a view of the sprawling garden that once held her childhood laughter.
But perfection, she learned too late, was a well-dressed lie.
She sat at the edge of the bed, fingers gripping the cool metal of a framed photo—one that used to bring her comfort. Her adoptive parents, Edward and Joanna Hart, beamed proudly in it, arms wrapped around two girls. One was Selena, their first adopted daughter, a shy but sweet teenager who never stopped trying to earn their love. The other was Clara, the younger girl they brought home five years later—a girl who grew into everyone’s favorite.
Selena's gaze locked on Clara’s perfect smile. How had she not seen the venom behind it?
A soft knock broke the silence.
“Come in,” Selena said, her voice calm, steady, too steady for what she remembered.
The door creaked open, revealing Clara. Dressed in pastel pink and pearls, she looked every bit the angel she pretended to be.
“Good morning, sister,” Clara chirped. “Mom said breakfast is ready. You coming down?”
Sister. Selena’s stomach twisted at the word. It was always a performance with Clara—every sweet word laced with poison.
“I’ll be there in a minute,” Selena replied, forcing a smile.
Clara tilted her head, her eyes narrowing just a fraction—barely enough to notice, but Selena noticed now. “You’re not still upset about yesterday, are you? I really didn’t mean to wear the dress you bought for the gala. I just thought it looked better on me.”
Selena stood, her heart pounding, but her expression calm. In her last life, she would have brushed it off, apologized even. Not anymore.
“I’m not upset,” she said. “After all, you always take what’s mine. Why should this be different?”
Clara blinked, caught off guard for a second, but then laughed. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. You’re always so sensitive.”
Selena stepped closer, her gaze icy. “And you’re always so fake.”
Clara’s smile faltered, but she recovered quickly. “Whatever. Just don’t keep the family waiting.”
As Clara flounced away, Selena’s fingers curled into fists. Her heart pounded with a painful memory—her last moments, lying in the cold, rain-drenched alley where her fiancé, Marcus, shoved her after Clara whispered one final “goodbye.”
They left her to die.
But now she was back. Reborn, two years before her murder. Before the engagement. Before Clara stole everything.
Selena moved to the mirror, staring at the girl she used to be. Soft brown eyes, delicate features, hair that fell in waves down her back. She looked harmless. That’s what they all thought. That’s how they fooled her.
But this time, she wouldn’t beg for love.
She would make them regret ever crossing her.
—
Downstairs, the dining room buzzed with the usual cheer. Edward was reading the paper, Joanna sipping her coffee, Clara playing the sweet daughter as she passed toast around.
“Selena, darling,” Joanna said. “Clara helped me with breakfast today. Isn’t she just the most helpful girl?”
Of course she did, Selena thought. “She’s good at pretending,” Selena said as she took her seat.
Joanna blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I said Clara’s good at presenting,” Selena replied smoothly. “She’s always been very polished.”
Clara’s fork paused midway to her mouth. “Well, thank you.”
Edward cleared his throat. “Selena, we’ve been meaning to talk to you about the gala next week. We want Clara to represent the Hart Foundation this time.”
Selena nearly laughed. In her past life, they told her the same thing. Clara took the spotlight, then slowly began replacing her in every event, every family meeting, every photo.
“Fine by me,” Selena said, reaching for the orange juice. “She lives for attention.”
Clara coughed.
Joanna raised a brow. “Selena, what’s gotten into you?”
The old Selena would’ve shrunk under her mother’s disapproval. But not anymore.
“What’s gotten into me?” Selena said, her voice quiet but firm. “Maybe I’m just waking up.”
Edward frowned. “You sound… resentful.”
Selena smiled. “Should I not be?”
Silence fell over the table.
Selena stood, smoothing her dress. “Thank you for breakfast. It was delightful watching Clara shine again.”
She walked away before any of them could respond. Let them wonder. Let them panic.
She had work to do.
—
Later that day, she sat in the quiet corner of the estate’s vast library, flipping through her old journals. Everything she’d written, every wound and heartbreak, had been documented. At the back of one journal, she found the name she needed—Marcus Thorn.
Her fiancé. Her killer.
She remembered the way he held her hands, whispered sweet lies, kissed her forehead while planning her murder with Clara. They used her for connections, inheritance, and when she became a liability, they got rid of her.
Selena stared at his name, lips curling into a bitter smile.
He had no idea she was back.
She would make him fall for her again.
And this time, she’d be the one to destroy him.
But first—she needed allies. She needed power. And most of all, she needed to remember who she used to be before she bent over backward for people who never truly cared.
She was done surviving.
It was time to conquer.
