Chapter 1

I'm already dead.

My spirit floats in the air, a spectator at my own fiancé' s wedding.

It' s a grand affair, the kind of wedding every girl dreams of. Thousands of white roses fill the cathedral, their scent so thick it feels heavy. The bride, Olivia Reed, is radiant in a dress that cost more than a house. The groom, my fiancé, Ryan Sterling, stands stoic and handsome at the altar.

They look like the perfect couple. Everyone says so.

I should be the one standing there.

But I' m not. I' m just a ghost, watching the man I love marry my adoptive sister. The woman who destroyed me.

I remember the day it all started to fall apart. The day Olivia, the Millers' real biological daughter, came back. My parents, the people who raised me, looked at me like I was a stranger, an obstacle.

"Ava, we' re sending you abroad to study," my mother said, not meeting my eyes.

"It' s for the best," my father added, his voice cold.

They didn' t send me abroad to study. They sent me to "Billionaire's Playground," a private island where rich men prey on young women. They sent me there to be broken, to disappear.

And I did. I died there.

But not before I prepared a wedding gift.

Back at the wedding, the ceremony is over. The reception is in full swing at a lavish hotel ballroom. Laughter and champagne flow freely. And then, a delivery man walks in, holding a simple, unadorned box.

He walks straight to the stage where Ryan and Olivia are greeting guests.

"A delivery for Mr. Sterling," the man says. "A wedding gift."

Olivia smiles, a perfect, practiced smile. "Oh, who is it from? There' s no card."

The delivery man shakes his head. "The sender just said it' s from Ava Miller."

My name hangs in the air like a foul smell. The lively chatter in the ballroom dies down instantly. All eyes are on the stage, on that simple box.

A woman in the crowd, a friend of my adoptive mother, scoffs loudly.

"Ava Miller? That shameless girl? She still has the nerve to send a gift?"

Her friend chimes in, her voice dripping with disdain. "I heard she went wild overseas, sleeping around with anyone who would have her. Ryan was smart to dump her. She' s nothing but a slut."

"Exactly! The Millers are so kind, they took her in, and this is how she repays them? By shaming the family? Disgusting."

The words don't hurt anymore. I' ve heard worse. I float closer, watching my adoptive parents, Mr. and Mrs. Miller. They put on a show of sadness and disappointment.

"We did our best," my mother says, dabbing a dry eye with a handkerchief. "We only wanted her to have a good education, but she… she chose the wrong path. We no longer consider her our daughter."

The crowd murmurs in sympathy. They see a picture of grieving parents and a perfect new couple, haunted by a disgraceful past. They see the story Olivia and my parents wrote for them.

Olivia turns to Ryan, her hand on his arm. "Ryan, darling, just have someone throw it away. I don' t want anything from her to spoil our perfect day."

She tries to take the box, but Ryan moves it out of her reach. His face is unreadable, a cold mask. He has worn that mask for months, ever since those photos of me on the island were sent to him. He never asked for an explanation. He just publicly broke our engagement and announced he was marrying Olivia.

He turned his back on me when I needed him most.

But now, he looks at the box. His expression is different. It' s not angry or disgusted. It' s… intense. Focused.

"No," Ryan says, his voice quiet but firm, cutting through the whispers. "I want to see it."

Olivia' s smile falters for a second. "But Ryan, it' s probably something awful. She' s just trying to humiliate us."

"I want to see it," he repeats, his gaze fixed on the box. He doesn't look at Olivia. He doesn't look at anyone.

He carefully takes the box and starts to open it.

The whole room holds its breath.

Even in death, my heart, or whatever is left of it, beats with a strange, cold hope.