Author's POV
There are moments when time stretches thin—fractions of seconds that pulse louder than hours. As Vivienne stood in the grand marble hallway of St. Damaris Academy, facing the Four Kings for the first time in this life, time folded around her.
She wasn't supposed to be here. Not like this. Not on the first day of her new beginning.
But then again, Vivienne Sinclair wasn't the kind of girl who waited for fate to deal the cards.
She shuffled the deck herself.
Vivienne's POV
The first thing I learned as an underworld heiress: never blink first.
And I didn't. I stared Ezra Belcastro down with the same quiet fire I used on enemies in my old life.
He tilted his head. Just slightly. Eyes narrowed, curious. Then—just for a second—his lips twitched. Not a smile. No, this was something darker. Something dangerous. Like recognition without memory.
The other boys noticed.
Luca's amused voice floated over. "New girl's got bite."
Damian turned, dragging his knuckles across the locker's surface like it was skin. "Or she's just lost."
Kai didn't speak. But his eyes, dark like coffee left to cool too long, landed on mine. Sharp. Cold.
Like a scalpel.
I forced a breath. Let my bag slide off one shoulder, balancing my weight the way I used to in negotiations—one foot grounded, one ready to strike.
"I'm Vivienne Sinclair," I said. "And I'm not here to bite. But I don't like being barked at either."
That earned a chuckle from Luca and a raised brow from Ezra.
"I like her," Luca said. "She's got sass. You're not going to faint if someone throws a knife, are you?"
I shrugged. "Only if you throw it badly."
Author's POV
That was it. One sentence. One spark. And just like that, Vivienne wasn't a shadow anymore.
She was on the board.
In a school built for secrets and dominance, where mafia heirs learned more about power than books, Vivienne was a queen in a villainess's skin. And kings don't ignore queens.
Ezra closed his book. "You're late for orientation."
She smiled. "I thought I'd find something more interesting in the halls."
"Careful," Damian said, stepping forward. His voice was low, rough like gravel. "This school chews up girls like you."
"I'm not a snack," she replied, her voice honey and iron. "I'm the poison they choke on."
Vivienne's POV
I shouldn't be doing this. I was supposed to avoid them. Blend in. Change the course of the novel.
Let the heroine shine. Let her fall in love.
But the heroine wasn't here. Not yet. And these boys—these kings—they were already circling me like wolves with too much time and too much teeth.
And I—
I'd forgotten how addictive it felt to be noticed.
To be feared.
To be seen.
St. Damaris wasn't going to be easy. But I hadn't survived the mafia to bow to rich boys playing power.
I walked away first, just to show I could. The hallway opened like a stage curtain, the eyes of students trailing me. Whispers followed in my wake. Questions. Threats. Curiosity.
I'd made an entrance.
Now I had to make a plan.
Author's POV
Behind her, the Four Kings stood silent.
Ezra folded his arms. "Vivienne Sinclair," he said slowly. "That name… sounds familiar."
Luca grinned. "Maybe in a past life."
Kai said nothing, but his eyes flicked to the class schedule pinned to the wall.
"She's in our classes," he murmured.
Damian cracked his knuckles. "This'll be fun."
---
Vivienne spent the rest of the day in calculated calm. She kept her responses measured. Smiled when necessary. Observed.
Her new body was young—maybe seventeen—but her soul was a woman carved in steel and scar tissue.
She picked out the power dynamics like notes in a song: the teachers who took bribes, the students who ran blackmail rings, the silent alliances behind every smile.
She saw it all.
And then she saw her.
The heroine.
Blond, sweet-faced, bright-eyed. Emilia Rowe. A transfer student just like Vivienne. Shy, clumsy, and utterly forgettable—at least, for now.
Vivienne watched as Emilia bumped into Luca in the library, spilling a stack of books. He helped her. Smiled. Classic.
But he didn't linger.
Didn't flirt.
Didn't look at her the way he looked at Vivienne.
Vivienne's POV
It hit me hard.
The plot was already changing.
I wasn't supposed to get involved. But I had.
And the Kings were watching me. Not her.
Which meant—
Either I fix this soon...
Or I become the center of a story I already died in once.
And this time, I might not come back.
Author's POV
But the real twist?
Ezra stayed late after class that day. Just him and a black journal.
And in its pages, he wrote three words:
Who is she?