"Elena, come downstairs at once."
Her father's voice echoed through the hall, stern and impatient.
Elena smoothed down the simple dress she wore and descended the staircase, each step steady despite the rush of memories slamming into her.
Her father, Charles Cruz, stood waiting in the grand living room, his gold-rimmed glasses perched low on his nose. He was a man who valued reputation above all else, who measured his children's worth in terms of social advantage.
Beside him sat her stepmother, Luciana, all painted lips and sharp eyes that glittered with mock affection. And of course—Bianca, seated primly, like a queen awaiting her crown.
"Elena," Charles said, folding his hands, "you are to accompany us this evening. The Vale family has invited us to a private dinner. You'll make yourself presentable. Tonight may very well determine your future."
At the mention of the Vale family, Elena's breath caught.
Adrian.
The man who had once been her dream, her downfall, her executioner. The man who had shattered her heart.
In her past life, she had obeyed eagerly, dressing herself like a doll just to earn Adrian's fleeting glance. She had gone to that dinner with trembling hope, blind to the fact that Adrian's heart already belonged to Bianca.
But not this time.
Elena lifted her chin. "No."
The word rang out, sharp, slicing through the room's polished silence.
Her father blinked. "What did you just say?"
Luciana's painted smile slipped, and Bianca's fingers tightened around her teacup.
"I said," Elena repeated, her voice calm but firm, "I won't go."
Charles's face darkened. "Do you have any idea what you're saying, girl? This dinner is an opportunity. The Vales are a powerful family, and Adrian Vale—"
"Is not mine to chase," Elena interrupted coldly.
The room fell into stunned silence.
Bianca recovered first, her lips curving into a mocking smile. "Sister, don't be foolish. You've dreamed of this chance for years. Adrian Vale doesn't even notice you. If you don't show up tonight, he'll never remember your name."
Elena turned her gaze on Bianca, sharp as a blade. "And what if I prefer it that way?"
For the first time, Bianca faltered.
Luciana's brows pinched, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "Elena, darling, don't let jealousy blind you. Adrian Vale could elevate our family's status. Surely you wouldn't throw that away out of childish pride?"
Elena's lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. "Perhaps I've outgrown childish dreams."
Her father slammed his fist on the table. "Enough! You'll do as you're told!"
In her past life, Elena would have cowered. She would have obeyed. But now, with the knowledge of betrayal burning in her veins, she met his glare without flinching.
"I am not your pawn, Father," she said quietly. "Send Bianca if you wish. I won't go."
Charles's face reddened with fury, but Elena had already turned away.
Her footsteps echoed up the stairs, her heart hammering in her chest. She knew she had just shocked them, perhaps even made herself an enemy in her father's eyes.
But she also knew something else—this was the first stone she had thrown.
And the ripples had only begun.
As she reached her room, she paused by the mirror. Her reflection stared back, lips curved in a faint, dangerous smile.
Adrian Vale, Bianca Cruz, Luciana, Father…
This time, I'll make you chase me. And when you do, I'll be the one holding the knife.