Kayros's POV
When I came down from the 2nd floor after Czar went first, I was sure I'd be facing Vincent with a bloody head, Elosia panicking while the staff held gauze to his wounds, and Ophelia standing lifelessly across from Czar—her eyes blank and dead, just as I remembered.
I repeated the deaths of my closest people again and again in my mind, letting the fire of revenge roar inside my chest. Alexander beside me simply observes—too calm for the storm I'm holding inside.
The warmth of Crescent Moon can't make me forget what she did to me.
My steps feel heavy, carrying the ache of a betrayal so massive that even this "new life" feels more like a curse than a blessing.
But the moment I descend the stairs, what greets me is nothing like the cold, hollow hazel-green eyes that only ever knew heartbreak, rage, and longing.
What first catches my eyes—
Beyond Czar stands a woman.
Dressed in a soft blush-pink dress that flutters with the breeze, white heels, hair cascading down to her waist—not in her usual sleek bun, but loose, natural glossy waves.
My breath catches in my throat despite all my attempts at control.
A small flicker of warmth softens my eyes instantly, the same damned way they always softened around her…
before everything.
Maybe even after everything.
Ophelia Blackwood looks up—
and everything stops.
Her bright, sparkling hazel-green eyes catch the golden hue of the room.
Her smile is too soft, too gentle for the wound she carved into my soul.
This is fucking ridiculous.
"Kayros Natheniel…"
My heart skips a beat.
She has never—never—said my name like this.
Not even during the moments I believed we were happiest.
I know—almost like a flash of instinct—
This isn't the Ophelia I swore I knew.
Ophelia never smiles like this.
Her eyes never glowed like she could set the world on fire and make the world apologize for letting her burn.
She steps closer, passing Czar, stepping over the bloody Vincent on the floor with Elosia and the staff fussing over him—walking toward me like I am the planet she has chosen to orbit.
"What are you looking at?"
She tilts her head, voice laced with a mischief I have never known from her.
This is ridiculous.
This Ophelia looks like she has only ever known the good in the world.
Like nobody ever fractured her mind.
Such radiating confidence and warmth—
enough to bring even a titan to his knees.
I clench my fist in my pocket.
Regulating my emotions has never been this hard… unless she is standing in front of me.
This isn't Ophelia.
I know it, even if it's fucking illogical.
Then again, coming back in time after dying isn't logical either.
My chest still throbs from the fresh wound.
Ophelia doesn't smile that bright.
Ophelia doesn't look like a walking piece of sunlight.
I gave everything to pull her out of her darkness, and all I received was betrayal—my love never trusted.
I inhale sharply.
Why the fuck is my heart beating so fast?
Traitor.
Don't you understand this woman—this face—betrayed us once?
No.
This isn't Ophelia. I know her eyes better than I know the map of the underworld.
Ophelia never looked at me like I was worth more than her past.
Who are you?
I want to ask.
But it would sound insane. My mind is already too heavy.
"What do you want?"
It comes out rough and cold.
Good.
This is what the woman wearing Ophelia's face deserves—even if she isn't Ophelia.
"I want to marry you."
She blurts out with a ridiculously bright smile, dimples forming on both cheeks.
My eyes widen.
My breath stops.
WHAT IS THIS WOMAN TALKING ABOUT?
Vincent screams,
"OPHELIA! WHAT IS THIS BEHAVIOU—"
"Shut up, little dickhead. Do I look like I'm interested in listening to you?"
She snaps.
My eyes widen even more—
Did she just curse?
She is NOT Ophelia.
"What makes you think I'll marry you?"
I grit my teeth, rage mixing with something I refuse to name.
She winks—actually winks—confidence dripping from every inch of her existence.
Her sunshine-bright smile makes it impossible to react the way I should after waking up five years in the past.
"I'll force you if you don't agree willingly."
THE AUDACITY.
My chest rumbles. My eyes sharpen as I step closer.
Her eyes stay bright—no fear—only amusement and thrill.
My grip tightens around my phone.
She lifts her chin, as if the height difference that once made me feel protective and possessive under my mask of serenity means nothing now.
Her voice is smooth like silk, wrapped in light and something dangerously close to desire.
"I can force you if I want. But since both of us have more to gain from our union, why not accept it without drama?"
My gut twists.
More to gain… marriage…
A familiar bitterness crawls up my spine.
This is almost the same phrase she used in our past life—
except back then she stood before me like someone who wanted to disappear.
Back then, I had a soft corner for Ophelia.
Because when I was 15, ready to jump off a rooftop at a New Year party—
A small hand tugged my sleeve and pulled me back.
It wasn't romantic then.
It was the spark of obsession in a boy who had only known darkness.
I thought she was mine to protect. Mine to have. Mine to own.
But everything changed on her 18th birthday.
I swore never to look at her again—but I did.
Again and again.
Until when she turned 20, she walked into my mansion with a contract marriage proposal—seeking revenge, while I simply wanted what I believed was already mine.
I fell in love.
Reverently.
Deeply.
She loved me too—
But she never gave me her heart.
Which is why, when Jessica appeared, she believed I could love another woman.
She never trusted me.
Not even when I begged.
And what was the result?
Death of my best friends.
Fall of the Natheniel Mafia.
And the death of my five-year-old son.
And now this again…
The situation is different.
The timeline is different.
Maybe Ophelia is different too.
Or maybe she remembers everything—just like me—
and she's playing a game.
Anything is possible.
I step closer. She doesn't move back.
The challenge in her eyes makes my blood rush.
Forget the customers watching the juiciest gossip of high society.
Forget Czar's amused grin.
Forget Vincent's dark, furious glare.
"You want to marry me?"
I whisper low.
"Yes," she answers, lips tugging into a soft, arrogant smile.
I nod—amused.
Ophelia or not…
I will find out.
I glance at Vincent—his red-rimmed eyes burning with the same obsessive intensity as before.
My hands itch to tear him apart—
But never again will I let my impulses rule me.
Vincent Dimitri…
He is not the real enemy.
The true mastermind behind the fall of the Natheniel and Blackwood families…
Never surfaced.
I only received the last intel from Jessica's network the night before the massacre.
There are five more shadows hiding behind all of the tragedies.
And in this life—
I will drag every one of them into the light and destroy them so thoroughly that the history of the mafia will remember my wrath.
And for that—
I need the power of the Blackwood family.
"Let's get married," she repeats.
I stare at her…
Searching for traces of the woman I loved—
and the woman who betrayed me.
But I find nothing familiar except the face.
"Okay."
It doesn't matter if she us acting or it's some ridiculous play of Universe, I will take my revenge and save the people I care about even if it means I need to burn down cities and family names older than most countries.
Nobody touches what is mine.