REBORN TO RUIN THE BOARD

CHAPTER 3

Ava's pov

The doorbell rang. My pulse stuttered for a fraction of a second, only because I let it. I had five years of memory to guide me, five years to know exactly who would appear, when, and with what intent.

I set my coffee down, smoothed the crease in my blouse, and walked to the door with a smile that was polished, composed… and carefully lethal.

“Mason,” I said, opening the door. His familiar grin stretched across his face like it had done countless times before, the kind of smile designed to disarm and charm. It worked on everyone but me now. I studied him the moment he stepped into the foyer—the posture, the confidence, the faint scent of his cologne that used to make my knees weak.

This time, though, it didn’t touch me.

“Good morning, Ava,” he said, his voice warm, practiced. “You look… lovely.”

I tilted my head slightly, letting the smallest flicker of uncertainty pass through my eyes, the kind that made him think I might still be naive. “Thank you, Mason. Please, come in.”

He stepped inside, scanning the room with the same casual arrogance he had perfected over the years. He believed he owned every space he entered. He didn’t realize the space had shifted. I was no longer defenseless. I had learned. I had remembered. And today, I would test him.

We walked into the dining area, and I offered him a seat. “Coffee?” I asked, gesturing toward the freshly brewed pot on the table.

He accepted with a nod, sitting and glancing at the spread as if he expected to critique it. “Everything looks perfect. Your father still insists on these extravagant spreads?”

I shrugged, keeping my expression light. “He enjoys the tradition.” I carefully studied him while I poured his coffee, noting the small details I would have missed last life—the crease in his forehead when he thought he wasn’t observed, the flicker of impatience behind his eyes when plans didn’t go his way, the way his left hand unconsciously tapped against the table when he was plotting something he didn’t yet want revealed.

Last time, I had ignored these signs. This time, I cataloged them. Every twitch, every glance, every subtle movement was information. Data. Advantage.

Mason smiled at me, oblivious to the fact that I wasn’t the same girl he had known. “Busy morning?” he asked, voice casual, but I recognized the underlying motive. He wanted to gauge my mood, my mental state, my vulnerability.

“Yes,” I said lightly. “But manageable.”

He raised a brow, leaning back slightly, clearly amused by my measured response. “Manageable? That’s a new word in your vocabulary.”

I smiled faintly, letting just the right amount of warmth show. “I’m full of surprises.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. I noted the subtle lift of his eyebrows—the first crack in his polished confidence. Good. I could exploit that later.

We sipped our coffee in silence for a moment, the kind of silence that was heavy with unspoken tension. I could feel him searching for the girl he remembered, the one who had trusted him completely, who had been too naive to see the betrayal coming. He wouldn’t find her. Not here. Not now.

“So,” he began again, leaning slightly forward, “Father mentioned there’s a big board meeting coming up. I just wanted to… make sure we’re aligned. You know, on your side.”

I tilted my head, letting my eyes linger on him, studying the flicker of nerves he tried to mask behind charm. “Aligned? On my side?” I asked, voice casual, letting him think I might still be uncertain.

“Yes,” he said quickly, leaning back. “I mean, I know things didn’t always go perfectly before… but I want to make sure we’re both in agreement this time.”

Agreement. Cooperation. Trust. Words I had believed before. Words that had been empty. This time, I let them hang in the air, letting him wonder if I would actually accept them.

“I see,” I said slowly, setting my cup down. “It’s good to clarify intentions. Miscommunication can be costly.”

He nodded, leaning forward again, trying to read my expression. “Exactly. That’s why I wanted to talk early, make sure we’re—”

I cut him off gently, smiling. “I appreciate it, Mason. I really do. But I think I’ll manage the board meeting my way. You can support me however you see fit, but I’ll be leading.”

He blinked, just slightly, and for a moment, I saw the surprise flash across his face. The confident, charming Mason I remembered faltered. Good. I had planted the first seed.

“I… of course,” he said finally, masking it with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I trust your judgment, Ava.”

I let the statement settle. Let him bask in the illusion that he still had influence. Little did he know, I had already memorized every misstep he had made last life. Every conversation, every tactic, every lie. I had him figured out.

Breakfast ended with minimal conversation after that. I noted every small gesture—how he handled the cup, how he shifted in his seat, how his eyes followed mine when he thought I wasn’t looking. All of it would be useful later.

Once Mason left, I moved quickly to my study. I pulled out my old files and reports, scanning for patterns and weaknesses. Charlotte would be around later, pretending to be helpful, but I would ensure her interference was neutralized before it could become a problem. I started drafting emails in my mind, carefully wording them to assert control without raising suspicion.

The employees I had failed last life were fresh in my mind. I would protect them now. I would ensure no one could manipulate the system again, no one could exploit my trust or naivety. Every meeting, every project, every small detail would be carefully orchestrated.

By mid-morning, I had compiled a list of priorities:

1. Observe Charlotte closely during any team discussions; identify her weak points.

2. Document Mason’s tendencies and plan counters to his manipulations.

3. Begin subtle interventions with the marketing department to redirect control in my favor.

4. Check financial projections and note discrepancies I had remembered from the last timeline.

The office buzzed with activity, and I moved among the staff like a shadow, watching, listening, absorbing every piece of information. Everyone remembered me as the quiet, obedient Ava Holden, but now, my silence carried weight. My gaze alone made them hesitate, made them consider their words more carefully.

By lunchtime, I had already identified two minor mistakes in the marketing projections that Charlotte would have taken credit for fixing later. I corrected them quietly, noting the outcomes for later leverage. The first domino had already shifted.

Mason called around 2:00 p.m., asking for an update on a project he had tried to control in the previous timeline. I let him believe he was guiding me, subtly giving him a false sense of security while I had already adjusted the project to my advantage.

Every word, every gesture, every meeting I attended became a calculated move. I was no longer reactive; I was proactive. And the thrill of knowing I had control—real, tangible control—was intoxicating.

By evening, the family returned to the estate. Father was pleased with the updates he received from Charlotte, oblivious to the subtle restructuring I had already begun. Mason arrived later, still unaware that the Ava he remembered no longer existed. He spoke to me, attempting charm and subtle manipulation, but I let him speak, observed, noted, and countered silently in my mind.

When the night finally fell, I retreated to my room. Exhausted, yes, but alive, alert, and in control for the first time in years. I reviewed the day in my head, ticking off victories both small and strategic.

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the quiet hum of the city beyond my window. The fire inside me burned steadily, controlled now, ready to ignite at the perfect moment.

Five years. Five years to undo the damage, to reclaim my power, to dismantle every person who had betrayed me. Every step carefully planned, every move deliberate. And Mason… he would be the first to learn that the girl he once thought weak was now unstoppable.