Chapter 1

Pain. A deep, sharp pain ripped through Ava' s lower abdomen. It was a relentless cramp that made her whole body tremble. She curled into a ball on the cold marble floor, her hands pressed against her stomach, but it did nothing. The pain was inside her, tearing her apart. She gasped for air, but her lungs felt tight, useless.

"Help," she whispered, her voice a dry, cracked sound. "Please… someone…"

But no one answered. The sprawling penthouse, once a symbol of her future happiness, was now a silent, luxurious prison. The only sound was the faint hum of the city far below, indifferent to her agony. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city lights blurred into a meaningless smear through her tear-filled eyes. The silence in the room was a heavy weight, pressing down on her, suffocating her.

Downstairs, in the hushed quiet of his private study, Liam Maxwell knelt on a velvet cushion. His hands were clasped, a string of sandalwood prayer beads wrapped around his fingers. His eyes were closed, his handsome face a mask of serene piety. To the world, he was a grieving fiancé, a man shattered by his beloved' s betrayal and the subsequent public scandal. He had told everyone he was praying for Ava' s soul, for her to see the error of her ways.

But Ava knew the truth. This was not prayer. This was punishment. The penthouse was her gilded cage, and Liam was her warden. He had built this cage with his charisma and his lies, and he had locked her inside it with the world' s scorn.

The pain was a direct result of the events from a month ago, on what was supposed to be their wedding day. The memory was a fresh wound. Olivia Chen, his childhood friend, standing on the edge of a rooftop, her voice shrill with desperation, claiming Liam had promised to marry her. And Liam, instead of dismissing her, had rushed to her side, wrapping her in a dramatic, public embrace that the media cameras captured from every angle. He had chosen Olivia. He had left Ava standing at the altar, a spectacle of humiliation.

His family called her a gold-digger. The media painted her as a home-wrecker. And Liam, the man she loved, did nothing to stop it. He fueled it. Then he locked her away, took her phone, and told her to "reflect" on what she had done. The stress, the heartbreak, the constant fear-it had all taken its toll. And the final, cruel blow came from Liam himself. A careless shove during an argument a week ago, a fall against the hard edge of a coffee table. That' s when the bleeding started.

A sudden, horrifying gush of warmth spread between her legs, soaking through her thin silk pajamas and pooling on the pristine white floor. It was a tide of dark red, a color so vibrant it seemed to scream. She looked down, her mind struggling to process the sight. It was happening. She was losing the one secret joy she had clung to in this nightmare. Her baby. Their baby.

A guttural scream tore from her throat, raw and full of a pain that went far beyond the physical. It was the sound of a soul breaking. "LIAM!"

The door to the penthouse finally swung open. Liam stood there, his face a mask of cold annoyance. He had been interrupted. "What is it now, Ava? Can' t you see I' m trying to find some peace?"

His eyes followed her gaze downward, to the expanding pool of blood on the floor. His condescending expression faltered. The color drained from his face, replaced by a ghastly white. He stared, his mouth slightly open, as the reality of the scene crashed down on him.

"What… what is that?" he stammered, his voice barely a whisper.

At that exact moment, the string of sandalwood beads in his hand, the ones he had been clutching so devoutly, snapped. The polished beads scattered across the marble floor, clattering like tiny, mocking marbles, rolling into the spreading blood. He looked from the broken beads to the blood, and then to Ava' s face, a dawning horror in his eyes. He finally understood.

Ava pushed herself up onto her elbows, her body shaking uncontrollably. She looked at him, her vision blurring, but her hatred was a sharp, clear point. All the love she ever felt for him had burned away, leaving only ash and a bitter, burning rage.

"Liam Maxwell," she rasped, each word a struggle. "You killed our child."

She saw the flicker of panic in his eyes, the terror of consequence.

"I swear, if there is a hell, I will be waiting for you there," she continued, her voice gaining a terrifying strength. "And if there is another life… I will never, ever love you again. I will make you pay for this. I will make you and Olivia Chen pay for everything."

The world faded to black.

Then, a sudden jolt.

Ava' s eyes flew open. She was breathing hard, her heart pounding against her ribs. The phantom pain was gone. She was lying in a soft bed, the silk sheets cool against her skin. Sunlight streamed through the window, warm and gentle.

She sat up, her hands flying to her stomach. It was flat. There was no blood, no pain. She looked around the room. It was the bridal suite of the hotel where she and Liam were supposed to get married. The white wedding dress she was meant to wear hung on a mannequin in the corner, pristine and untouched.

A wave of confusion washed over her. Was it all a nightmare? A horrible, vivid dream?

The door opened, and Liam walked in. He was dressed in his wedding tuxedo, looking impossibly handsome and concerned. He carried a breakfast tray.

"Ava, you' re awake," he said, his voice soft. "You were sleeping for so long, I was getting worried. You look pale. Are you feeling alright?"

Ava stared at him, her mind reeling. He looked… innocent. The cold, cruel man from her vision was gone, replaced by the charming fiancé she had once adored.

"What time is it?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"It' s almost ten," he said, setting the tray on the bedside table. "The wedding is at noon. But don' t worry about that right now." He frowned, his eyes scanning her face. "I just got a call. It' s Olivia. She' s… she' s not doing well. She' s threatening to do something stupid."

The words hit Ava like a physical blow. Olivia. The wedding day. It wasn' t a dream. She was back. She had been given a second chance. Time had reversed, bringing her back to the very morning it all went wrong.