REBORN TO RUIN THE BOARD

Ava's pov Darkness. It tasted metallic. The first thing I noticed when I woke was the sharp, cold tang in my mouth, like iron. My lungs burned as I dragged in a shaky breath, and my heart thrashed so hard I thought it might explode. I couldn’t move at first, couldn’t even open my eyes without feeling the world spin. And then… the ceiling. Cream-colored, pristine, trimmed with delicate gold lining. My vision blurred for a moment, then focused. I blinked rapidly, forcing my heavy lids open. My hand shot out, touching the sheets. Silk. Soft. Smooth. Real. Not the scratchy hospital blanket I remembered the last time my world ended. I gasped and sat upright, my chest heaving. My hair was long, far longer than it should have been—past my waist, heavy and silky. Before, I had cut it short when the betrayal came, shoulder-length, practical. Now… it swayed around me like a living curtain. “No. No, this isn’t real,” I whispered. My voice cracked, echoing off the walls. I pressed my palms to my face, trying to calm the storm inside me. Memories hit me like jagged glass—the board’s verdict, Mason’s cold stare, Charlotte’s smirk, the city alleyway where I’d collapsed, soaking wet, exhausted, abandoned. Fraud. Betrayal. Exiled. And the last moment before I faded. The last heartbeat. And now… I was here. Alive. Alive. In my bedroom. On the second floor of the Holden Estate. The room I had fled—or that had been taken from me—years ago. I touched the nightstand, the photo frame sitting there, a picture of Mason and me at a charity gala. I remembered that night so clearly—the way I had leaned into him, believing he was my partner, my support. I had trusted him with my life. I had been wrong. My stomach knotted. My hands shook. I had died once. And now, five years earlier, I had another chance. A knock at the door pulled me from my spiraling thoughts. “Ava?” Charlotte’s voice floated in, sugary and sweet. “Are you awake? Mom said—” I froze. My chest tightened. That voice. That light, sweet lilt, masking all the poison she had always carried. I remembered every knife hidden behind her smiles. I pressed myself against the wall, willing my pulse to slow. Five years ago, I would have opened that door with a smile, let her borrow my things, given her tips for her internship. And she would have used it all to destroy me later. Not this time. I didn’t answer immediately. Another knock came—soft, impatient. “Ava, we’re supposed to go over tomorrow’s schedule.” I straightened, forcing my lips into a neutral line. My voice would have to be steady. Controlled. Measured. “I’m fine,” I said softly. There was a pause. Then, “Are you… okay?” she asked. I forced a smile. “Yes. I’m fine.” She stepped away. Her footsteps faded down the hall. My chest loosened slightly. I slid to the floor against the door, sliding my palms over my face. Five years worth of mistakes, betrayals, and lost opportunities flashed before me. And this time, I would not let it happen. I moved to my desk, opening my old planners. My handwriting stared back at me, looping and precise. Notes about meetings I hadn’t cared about, reminders to smile and be polite, little calculations about project deadlines… and a note in the margin that made my stomach twist: “Don’t forget to be polite. Show promise.” I crumpled it in my hands, jaw tight. That had been my life’s mission: pleasing, performing, obeying. And what had it earned me? Nothing. Betrayal. Death. Not this time. I stripped off my pajamas and stepped into the shower. Hot water scalded my skin, chasing away the tremor of panic but not the terror. Not the knowledge that every step I took from now on could mean the difference between regaining everything or repeating the same downfall. I dressed in muted gray trousers and a crisp blouse—professional, understated, but commanding. I studied myself in the mirror. Young, yes, but different. My eyes were sharper now, colder, calculating. Fear mingled with fire. Breakfast with my father would come soon. And I remembered exactly how that had gone five years ago: his polite smile hiding contempt, his praise of Charlotte public and deliberate, his cold eyes cutting through me in the boardroom. This time, I would see it coming. I descended the stairs carefully, each step silent. The estate smelled of fresh coffee and the faint perfume Charlotte always favored. There she was, seated at the table, hair curled, makeup light and perfect. Innocent. Sweet. Dangerous. I took my seat quietly, letting my hands rest in my lap, folding them neatly. I would wear the mask for now. The obedient daughter. The compliant niece. The polite partner. But inside… I was a storm. Charlotte leaned over and whispered, “Sleep well?” Her breath brushed my ear. I didn’t flinch. I nodded politely. “Yes. Thank you.” She smiled, satisfied. She had no idea that the girl she underestimated, the girl she had always thought weak, was now a living storm. My father entered, steps echoing through the hall. He didn’t notice the subtle change in me. Or perhaps he would, soon enough. “Good morning, Ava,” he said, pouring coffee. “Big day ahead.” I sipped from my cup, calm, collected. “Yes, Father. I’m ready.” Ready. I had five years to fix every mistake. To see Mason’s betrayal crumble. To expose Charlotte before she even began. To protect the employees I had failed. I just had to survive today. One step at a time. Because I remembered everything. Every betrayal, every lie, every moment of weakness. And I would not make the same mistakes again. The world thought Ava Holden was fragile, naive, compliant. That girl had died. I wasn’t her anymore. I finished my coffee in silence. Charlotte’s eyes flicked toward me. She smiled, innocent and calculating. I returned the smile. Ice beneath warmth. I opened my planner again, scanning the week ahead. My gaze froze on the first meeting with Mason, scheduled at 9:00 a.m. Five years early… and I already knew exactly how I would make him pay.