CHAPTER 2-The Man Who Killed Me
908 Words
Chapter 2 — The Man Who Killed Me
The café smelled exactly the same.
Roasted coffee beans. Warm sugar. Cinnamon in the air.
Five years ago, this had been the beginning of my love story.
Today, it was the beginning of his downfall.
I stood outside for a moment, steadying my breathing. In my first life, I had been nervous. Excited. Hopeful. I had spent an hour picking out the perfect dress, wondering if he would think I was beautiful.
Now?
I wondered if he would recognize the woman he once buried.
I pushed the door open.
And there he was.
Marcus Hale.
Alive. Smiling. Charming.
Unaware.
He was seated at the same corner table. Navy shirt. Expensive watch he couldn’t actually afford yet. That confident half-smirk that made women feel chosen.
My stomach twisted.
This man had kissed my forehead while I was dying.
This man had signed insurance papers over my weak body.
This man had held my best friend’s hand at my funeral.
He looked up.
Our eyes met.
And for one dangerous second…
My heart betrayed me.
Because memory is cruel.
It remembers the good before the bad.
I remembered the first time he told me he loved me.
The first apartment we shared.
The way he used to tuck my hair behind my ear.
Lies.
All of it.
I forced a soft smile and walked toward him.
“Hi. Marcus?”
He stood immediately, charm turning on like a switch.
“You must be Elena.”
The sound of my name on his lips felt like a ghost touching my skin.
He pulled my chair out for me.
Gentleman.
Murderer.
I sat down gracefully.
“Sorry if I’m late,” I said lightly.
“You’re right on time,” he replied, eyes scanning me subtly.
Ah.
There it was.
Assessment.
In my first life, I thought he was admiring me.
Now I recognized it for what it was — evaluation.
Was I stable?
Was I soft?
Was I useful?
I folded my hands neatly on the table, playing the part.
“I’m glad we finally get to meet in person,” I said.
He smiled wider.
“So am I. I have a good feeling about you.”
Of course you do.
You always did.
Because I was easy to love.
And easier to use.
The waiter came and left.
Small talk followed.
He asked about my job.
My family.
My goals.
In my first life, I had answered honestly.
I had told him about my savings.
My ambition.
My willingness to support someone I believed in.
This time?
I tilted my head slightly.
“I like stability,” I said softly. “I think building something solid matters.”
His eyes lit up.
Hooked.
He leaned forward.
“I couldn’t agree more. I actually have a few business ideas I’ve been working on.”
There it is.
Already planting seeds.
I nodded with interest, but inside, I was cataloging everything.
The tone of his voice.
The slight exaggeration.
The way he framed himself as visionary.
He wasn’t evil in an obvious way.
That’s what made him dangerous.
He was patient.
Strategic.
He built trust before he built traps.
But now?
I was five years ahead of him.
As he spoke about his “future empire,” I studied his face carefully.
No guilt.
No recognition.
Good.
Only I remembered.
Only I knew he would one day try to poison me.
A strange calm settled over me.
Power.
That’s what this felt like.
Power he didn’t know I had.
He reached across the table, brushing his fingers lightly against mine.
“In a few years,” he said smoothly, “I’ll be very successful. I just need the right partner beside me.”
In my first life, those words had made my heart race.
Now?
They made me smile — slowly.
“And what kind of partner is that?” I asked gently.
“Someone loyal. Someone who believes in me.”
Someone disposable.
I leaned back slightly.
“I’m very loyal,” I said.
And I meant it.
Just not to him.
Not this time.
His gaze darkened with interest.
Attraction sparked.
He always liked women who looked soft but had quiet fire.
What he didn’t realize?
The fire had already burned once.
And risen from ashes.
As the date continued, I laughed at the right moments.
Touched his arm lightly.
Let him think he was leading.
By the time we stood to leave, he was already certain.
Certain I was his.
He walked me outside.
“Can I see you again?” he asked.
In my first life, I had blushed.
Today, I met his eyes steadily.
“Yes,” I said.
Because I needed him close.
Very close.
He stepped forward and hugged me.
His arms wrapped around me.
Strong. Familiar.
For a split second…
I remembered loving this man.
And that hurt more than the betrayal.
But pain is useful.
Pain sharpens strategy.
He pulled away with that confident smile.
“I have a feeling about us.”
So did I.
I watched him walk away.
Watched the back of the man who once watched me die.
And instead of feeling weak…
I felt unstoppable.
Because this time, Marcus Hale wasn’t meeting an innocent woman ready to fall in love.
He was meeting the woman who would destroy him.
And he had just invited her back into his life.
- Writer
