After My Death, I Became His Queen.

Chapter- 3

By eight in the morning, I had already made three cups of coffee and forgotten to drink all of them.

The third one sat beside my laptop, cold and untouched, while I stared at the same page on the screen. My old resume was open in front of me, and I was beginning to understand why I had hated my first life so much whenever I thought about it.

It wasn't only Adrian.

It was me.

I had spent years convincing myself that giving up my own plans was some kind of proof that I loved him. I had been accepted into a graduate program after university. I had received an internship offer from a company I admired. I had even talked about starting my own consulting firm someday.

Then Adrian proposed.

I remembered exactly what I had done.

I had closed my laptop, declined the internship, and told myself I could always build a career later.

Later had turned into five years.

Five years had turned into a hospital floor covered in blood.

I leaned back in my chair and looked at my resume again.

Marketing and business strategy degree. Excellent academic record. Two internships. A handful of university awards. Languages I hadn't used properly in years because Adrian's family had considered my career unnecessary once I became his wife.

My mouth tightened.

"Well," I murmured, "that was stupid."

I reached for my coffee, took one sip and immediately made a face. It was disgusting.

I poured it into the sink and opened a new document.

If I was really going to live again, I needed to stop behaving like the woman who had died.

The first thing I needed was a job.

I opened several job listings, scrolling through them without much interest until one familiar name appeared on my screen.

Blackstone Enterprises.

My finger stopped on the mouse.

For a few seconds, I simply stared at the name.

I remembered Blackstone from my previous life, although I had never personally dealt with the company. Everyone in the business world knew about it.

Blackstone owned hotels, restaurants, security companies, entertainment venues and several private investment firms. Its legitimate businesses were enough to make its chairman one of the wealthiest men in the city.

The rumors surrounding the company were another matter.

People called its owner the King of the Streets.

I had never understood exactly what that meant.

Adrian had certainly understood.

He had mentioned Blackstone only a handful of times, and every time he had done so, his voice had changed. He had called the company dangerous and told me never to involve myself with its people.

At twenty three, I had listened.

At twenty eight, after being murdered, I had learned that blindly listening to Adrian had never done me much good.

I clicked the listing.

The position was for a junior strategy associate.

I laughed quietly.

The job description asked for two years of corporate experience.

Technically, I had none. But I knew what the company would become.

That was the strange advantage of having already lived through five years of the future.

I knew which hotel chains would struggle. I knew which neighborhoods would become valuable. I knew which technology companies were going to explode within a few years and which ones would disappear almost overnight.

More importantly, I remembered Blackstone's biggest mistake. They had expanded too quickly into the eastern district.

In my first life, Adrian had spent months discussing that expansion with his board members. Everyone had praised the decision.

Six months later, the entire project had nearly collapsed.

I remembered the reason.

The location looked profitable on paper, but the surrounding infrastructure couldn't support the scale of the development. Blackstone eventually recovered, but the mistake cost them millions.

I pulled out a notebook. For the next three hours, I worked. Not because I had to But because I wanted to.

I researched the company's existing properties, wrote down everything I remembered and built an alternative expansion plan. I wasn't trying to predict every detail. I simply wanted to prove that I could see something other applicants might miss.

By eleven thirty, my back hurt and my handwriting looked terrible. I stared at the proposal. It wasn't perfect but it was mine.

I attached it to the application before I could change my mind. My finger hovered over the submit button.

A ridiculous thought crossed my mind.

What if they laughed at me?

I almost closed the laptop. Then I remembered the ballroom. Adrian's face. Emily holding my son.

The cold floor beneath my body. I pressed submit.

"There." I leaned back.

"One thing for myself."

My phone rang. I looked at the screen.

Adrian.

The timing almost made me laugh.

I let it ring until it stopped. A minute later, another call came. Then another. Finally, a message appeared.

Adrian: Are you avoiding me?

I stared at it. In my first life, I would have answered immediately. I would have worried that he was angry. I would have wondered whether I had done something wrong.

This time, I typed three words.

Hannah: I'm working.

I sent it.

His reply arrived almost instantly.

Adrian: Working on what?

I looked at the message for several seconds. Then I put my phone face down.

For the first time in my life, I didn't feel guilty for not answering someone.

A knock sounded at my bedroom door. I quickly closed the job application.

"Come in."

My mother opened the door and looked at me suspiciously.

"You've been sitting in here all morning."

"I know."

"Did you eat?"

I glanced toward the untouched breakfast on my desk. "Technically."

She walked in, looked at the plate and raised an eyebrow. "Hannah."

"I'll eat."

"When?"

"Soon."

She came closer and touched my forehead.

"You look strange today."

My smile disappeared. "Strange?"

"Different."

She studied me for another moment. "You were so excited yesterday."

I knew exactly what she meant. Adrian's proposal.

My stomach twisted. "About Adrian?"

She nodded. "Your father thinks you should give him an answer tonight."

I looked toward the window. The same proposal that had once felt like the beginning of my life had become the opening scene of my destruction.

"I need more time."

My mother frowned. "Why?"

Because I had already seen how our marriage ended. Because the man I was supposed to marry had eventually watched me die. Because his mistress had held my son while he called her Mommy.

I couldn't tell her any of that. So I simply said, "I don't know if I want to get married yet."

She stared at me. "Yesterday you were certain."

"I changed my mind."

"Hannah, Adrian has been waiting for an answer for weeks."

"And I've been waiting five years to realize that my own opinion matters." The words came out sharper than I intended.

My mother went quiet.

I immediately softened. "I'm sorry."

She sat beside me. "You really don't want to marry him?"

I thought about the man I remembered.

The husband who had once kissed my forehead.

The husband who had eventually told me he didn't love me.

The husband who had looked at me while I died.

"No," I said quietly. "I don't think I do."

She didn't argue. Instead, she squeezed my hand.

"Then don't."

I looked at her. It was such a simple sentence. Yet nobody had ever said it to me before.

My mother stood. "Your father may complain."

"He always complains."

She laughed softly. "That is true."

She reached the door before turning around.

"And Hannah?"

"Yes?"

"Whatever you decide, make sure you're choosing it because you want it. Not because you're afraid of disappointing someone."

The door closed. I sat there for a long time. Then I opened my laptop again. There was a new email. My heart skipped.

Blackstone Enterprises.

I clicked it.

Dear Ms. Hannah,

Thank you for your application.

We have reviewed your resume and accompanying proposal. The executive division would like to meet with you tomorrow at nine in the morning.

Please report to the main Blackstone building.

I read it twice. Then I checked the sender again. It was real.

I smiled, Not because I had gotten the job. But someone had looked at my work and decided it was worth five minutes of their time.

That was enough.

The next morning, I stood outside the Blackstone building wearing a black blazer, cream blouse and trousers I had bought with my own savings.

I had spent twenty minutes deciding what to wear.

Not because I wanted to impress anyone But because I wanted to feel like myself.

The building rose above the surrounding offices, all dark glass and sharp lines. People walked through the revolving doors carrying coffee cups and briefcases, speaking into phones as they hurried toward elevators.

I took a breath and walked inside.

The receptionist looked at her computer.

"Name?"

"Hannah."

She typed something. Then her expression changed slightly. "Just Hannah?"

"Hannah Allie."

The receptionist looked up.

"You're expected."

I nodded.

She picked up the phone."She's here."

A pause.

"Understood."

She put it down. "Someone will take you upstairs."

I followed a young woman toward the elevators.

The doors opened. As we entered, she pressed a button near the top of the building.

"Is the interview with the recruitment team?" I asked.

She hesitated. "No."

I looked at her. "Then who?"

"The executive chairman."

My stomach tightened. I hadn't expected that.

The elevator climbed silently.

When the doors opened, we stepped into a quiet corridor. There were no employees rushing around up here. No ringing phones. No unnecessary noise.

The woman stopped outside a set of black double doors. "You can go in."

She turned to leave. I looked at the doors. Then at her. "Is there anything I should know?"

She gave me an oddly sympathetic look.

"Don't lie."

Then she walked away. I almost smiled. Fair enough.

I knocked.

A voice answered from inside.

"Come in."

I opened the door. The first thing I noticed was the view.The entire city stretched beneath the enormous windows, bright under the morning sun.

The second thing I noticed was the man standing near the desk. He was tall, dressed in a charcoal suit without a tie, one hand resting casually inside his pocket.

He didn't look like the kind of businessman I had imagined. There was nothing loud about him.

No unnecessary jewelry. No exaggerated confidence. He simply stood there with the kind of stillness that made the entire room feel like it belonged to him.

His gaze moved over me once. Not rudely. Carefully.

Then he picked up the proposal from his desk.

"Hannah Allie." His voice was low.

"Yes."

"You applied for a junior strategy position."

"I did."

"You don't meet the experience requirement."

"I know."

His eyebrow lifted. "Then why did you apply?"

I sat down when he gestured toward the chair.

"Because I can do the job."

"You can't know that."

"I can."

He studied me. Most people would probably have looked away but I didn't.

He opened the proposal. "You wrote this?"

"Yes."

"You believe our eastern expansion strategy is flawed."

"I believe the current plan is too expensive for the projected return."

"And you think you know better than the people who created it?"

"No."

That seemed to surprise him.

I folded my hands in my lap. "I think the people who created it had information I don't have. But I also think they might be looking at the problem from the wrong angle."

He closed the file. "Interesting."

I waited.

He leaned back against his desk. "Who told you about the eastern district?"

"No one."

"Then how did you reach that conclusion?"

I couldn't exactly tell him that I had watched the project nearly collapse five years from now.

So I chose my words carefully. "Research."

His eyes remained on me. For a moment, I wondered whether he believed me.

Then he asked, "Why Blackstone?"

That question was easier. "Because I want to work somewhere where my decisions matter."

He said nothing. I continued, "I don't want a position where someone hires me because of my family. I don't want to spend the next ten years attending meetings and taking notes while somebody else decides what I'm capable of. If I'm going to fail, I'd rather fail because I made my own decision."

Something almost resembling amusement appeared in his eyes. "You're ambitious."

"I've wasted enough time not being ambitious."

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

His expression changed. "How old are you?"

"Twenty three."

"Too young to sound this tired."

I looked at him. "You'd be surprised."

For the first time, he smiled. It was small, barely there. But it changed his face.

He placed the proposal back on the desk. "I'll have the recruitment department contact you."

I stood. "Does that mean I have the job?"

"No."

I nodded. "Fair."

I reached the door.

"Hannah."

I turned.

He was still watching me. "If you get this position, don't expect special treatment."

"I wouldn't want it."

"And don't expect me to be impressed simply because you have confidence."

I smiled. "Then I suppose I'll have to give you a reason to be impressed."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "That sounds like a challenge."

"Maybe it is."

I opened the door. This time, I walked away before he could say anything else.

I didn't know whether I had gotten the job. I didn't know whether the man behind Blackstone Enterprises believed a word I had said. And I certainly didn't know that I had just walked into the orbit of a man whose name would eventually become connected to mine in ways neither of us could have predicted.

All I knew was that when I stepped outside into the afternoon sunlight, I felt lighter than I had in years. I was standing at the beginning of something that belonged entirely to me.

My second life had started with death. Perhaps it was time I learned how to make it begin with living.