Chapter 2 The First Move

Dayla Stanford stood before the mirror, staring at the woman looking back at her.

A year.

She had one entire year before the day her fiancé and stepsister murdered her.

One year to change everything.

Her fingers tightened around the edge of the dressing table as memories flooded her mind. Adrian's cold expression. Vanessa's cruel laughter. The unbearable heat of the flames.

She could still hear their voices.

I was never in love with you.

Goodbye, Dayla.

Dayla closed her eyes.

For months after her father's death, she had convinced herself that she was fortunate. She had a comfortable home, enough money to live without struggling, and a fiancé who seemed devoted to her.

She had mistaken attention for love and jealousy for sisterly concern.

Never again.

A knock interrupted her thoughts.

"Miss Dayla?" Grace called from outside. "Your breakfast is getting cold."

"Come in."

Grace entered, carrying a glass of orange juice. She stopped when she noticed Dayla's expression.

"Are you feeling sick? You look like you haven't slept."

Dayla turned away from the mirror.

"I'm fine."

"You've been crying."

Grace had been her maid for three years, but their relationship had grown beyond the usual distance between a wealthy young woman and her servant. Grace was the closest thing Dayla had to a friend inside the house.

In her previous life, Dayla had been so consumed by her engagement and family problems that she had failed to notice how often Grace tried to warn her about Adrian.

She remembered one particular afternoon when Grace had told her that Adrian seemed more interested in her father's business than in her happiness.

Dayla had defended him angrily.

She had even stopped speaking to Grace for two days.

Now, the memory made her chest ache.

"Grace," she said softly.

"Yes?"

"Have you ever regretted trusting someone?"

Grace looked surprised by the question.

"Of course."

"What did you do?"

"I learned from it."

Dayla lowered her eyes.

"Even when the person was someone you loved?"

Grace hesitated.

"Especially then."

For a moment, neither woman spoke.

Then Dayla reached for Grace's hand.

"I'm sorry."

Grace blinked. "For what?"

"For the times I refused to listen to you."

A confused smile appeared on Grace's face.

"You haven't done anything wrong today, Miss Dayla."

Dayla almost laughed.

If only Grace knew.

She was apologizing for a mistake she had not made yet in this timeline, but one that had already cost her everything in another life.

"Just promise me something," Dayla said.

"What is it?"

"If I ever tell you that someone is trustworthy, don't believe me immediately. Look at their actions yourself."

Grace frowned. "That's a strange thing to ask."

"I know. Please."

After a moment, Grace nodded.

"All right."

Dayla released her hand and picked up her phone.

There were several missed calls from Adrian.

She ignored them.

Another notification appeared, this time from Vanessa.

Vanessa: Good morning, sister! Don't forget our dinner tonight. Adrian says he has something special planned. I'm so excited for you!

Dayla stared at the message.

Vanessa had always been good at pretending.

She remembered how her stepsister had hugged her after their father's funeral, crying against her shoulder while secretly calculating how much money Dayla had inherited.

She remembered sharing clothes, secrets, and childhood memories with her.

She remembered believing that no matter how complicated their family became, Vanessa would never deliberately hurt her.

That belief had been her greatest weakness.

Dayla typed a reply.

Dayla: I'll be there.

She paused, then added a smiling emoji.

If Vanessa wanted to continue pretending, Dayla would let her.

For now.

At eleven that morning, Dayla entered her father's former study.

The room had remained almost untouched since his death. His favorite books lined the shelves, and a large wooden desk stood beside the window overlooking the garden.

Her father had been a successful businessman who owned several residential buildings, commercial properties, and shares in different companies.

After his death, most of his assets had passed to Dayla.

Her younger brother, Ethan, had received a smaller inheritance placed under legal protection until he was old enough to manage it independently.

Their stepmother had argued that the arrangement was unfair, but their father's lawyer had explained that the will was clear.

Dayla's fiancé had started asking questions about the estate shortly afterward.

At the time, she had thought he was simply interested in helping her manage it.

Now, she understood.

She opened the desk drawer and found a folder containing copies of the property documents.

Her father's handwriting appeared on a note attached to the front.

Dayla, never sign anything you do not understand. Money can be replaced, but the wrong decision can cost you years of peace. Trust carefully, my daughter.

Her eyes filled with tears.

"Daddy," she whispered, touching the paper. "I understand now."

She had spent so much time believing that she needed a man to protect her that she had forgotten her father had already given her the tools to protect herself.

She called the family's lawyer, Mr. Bennett.

He answered after the second ring.

"Miss Stanford? Is everything all right?"

"I need to arrange a meeting with you."

"Certainly. Is there a problem with the estate?"

"Not yet."

A brief silence followed.

"Not yet?"

Dayla took a breath.

"I want a complete review of my father's will, all property documents, and every financial agreement connected to the estate. I also want to know whether anyone has been given authority to act on my behalf."

"Has someone asked you to sign something?"

Dayla looked at the folder on the desk.

"Several people have."

"Then do not sign anything until we meet."

"I won't."

Mr. Bennett agreed to meet her that afternoon.

When the call ended, Dayla felt something she had not experienced in a long time.

Control.

It was not much, but it was a beginning.

She gathered the documents and placed them in a locked drawer.

From now on, nobody would have access to her inheritance without her knowledge.

Nobody.

At lunchtime, Ethan appeared in the doorway.

"Dayla?"

She turned around.

Her younger brother was seventeen, tall and energetic, with their father's dark eyes. He had always followed her around when they were children, insisting that she could solve every problem in the world.

In her first life, she had promised him that she would always protect him.

Yet she had died without knowing what happened to him afterward.

The thought was unbearable.

"Ethan."

He walked into the room, holding a sandwich.

"Why are you hiding in Dad's study?"

"I'm not hiding."

"Then why did you tell Grace not to let anyone disturb you?"

Dayla managed a small smile.

"Because I needed some time alone."

He studied her face.

"You look strange."

"Thank you."

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

Ethan rolled his eyes and sat on the edge of the desk.

"Vanessa said you're getting married soon. Is that true?"

Dayla's smile disappeared.

"Why are you asking?"

"Because I don't trust Adrian."

She stared at him.

"What?"

Ethan shrugged, suddenly looking uncomfortable.

"I never said anything because you liked him. But he always asks questions about Dad's properties. And whenever you talk about business, he acts like he's already in charge."

Dayla felt a chill move down her spine.

Even Ethan had noticed.

Why hadn't she listened?

"What else have you noticed?" she asked carefully.

"Nothing important."

"Ethan."

He sighed.

"Sometimes Vanessa tells him things about you that you only tell her privately. I thought it was weird, but I figured sisters talked about everything."

Dayla's stomach tightened.

Her stepsister had been feeding Adrian information long before the murder.

"Have you ever seen them together when they thought nobody was watching?"

Ethan hesitated.

"Once. They were arguing in the garden. When they saw me, they stopped talking."

"Did you hear anything?"

"No. But Adrian looked angry, and Vanessa looked scared."

Dayla lowered her eyes, thinking.

She could not tell Ethan about her death. He would never believe her, and she could not risk frightening him with a truth she barely understood herself.

Instead, she reached for his hand.

"Listen to me carefully. If Adrian or Vanessa asks you about Dad's properties, tell me immediately."

"Why?"

"Because I have reasons to be careful."

Ethan studied her for a long moment.

"Did something happen?"

"Not yet."

He frowned.

"Why do you keep saying that?"

Dayla forced a smile.

"Because I have a feeling that things are about to change."

Ethan squeezed her hand.

"Whatever happens, we're on the same side, right?"

Her throat tightened.

"Always."

He leaned forward and hugged her.

Dayla wrapped her arms around him, holding him longer than usual.

She had lost him once without even knowing what became of him.

She would never allow herself to be that careless again.

Across the city, Luthur Chris sat in his office overlooking the skyline.

His assistant, Daniel, stood beside the desk with a tablet.

"Your meeting with the Henderson Group has been moved to three o'clock," Daniel reported. "The board also wants your approval on the new acquisition."

"Send the documents to my email."

"And Miss Stanford?"

Luthur's fingers stopped moving across his laptop.

"What about her?"

"She called off the lunch meeting she had arranged with her fiancé yesterday. According to our social contacts, she has also requested a meeting with her father's lawyer."

Luthur slowly raised his eyes.

"Why are you monitoring her schedule?"

Daniel looked uncomfortable.

"You asked me to keep you informed of any unusual developments involving her family."

"I did."

"Well, this is unusual."

Luthur leaned back.

Dayla had always been predictable in one particular way: she trusted people even when they gave her reasons not to.

She had defended Adrian repeatedly, despite the man's obvious interest in her inheritance.

And she had never shown any desire to challenge her family's arrangements.

Until now.

"Did something happen between her and Adrian?" Luthur asked.

"We don't know."

"Find out."

Daniel nodded.

"Of course."

He turned to leave, but Luthur stopped him.

"Daniel."

"Sir?"

"Don't interfere in her private life. I only want information about anything that could threaten her safety."

"Understood."

When the door closed, Luthur looked at his phone.

He opened the conversation with Dayla.

Their latest messages were still on the screen.

Dayla: If someone you trusted betrayed you, would you forgive them?

He had been thinking about the question all morning.

It was unlike her to speak with such bitterness.

He typed a message.

Luthur: You sounded upset earlier. Are you sure you're all right?

He waited.

A minute passed.

Then five.

Finally, a reply appeared.

Dayla: I'm fine. Just learning to be more careful.

Luthur frowned.

Luthur: Careful about what?

Dayla: People.

He stared at the single word.

He knew Dayla's habits. She was generous with her trust, sometimes to a fault. She had once told him that she preferred getting hurt by trusting someone than living in fear of everyone.

Something had changed.

Luthur: Did someone hurt you?

Dayla read the message from her bedroom.

For a moment, she considered telling him everything.

She wanted to tell someone about the flames, the betrayal, and the nightmare that followed her into this second life.

But how could she explain something she could barely understand herself?

She typed a response, deleted it, then typed another.

Dayla: Not yet.

Luthur sat upright.

Not yet?

Before he could respond, another message arrived.

Dayla: Can we talk tonight? I don't want to be alone with my thoughts.

His expression softened.

Luthur: Of course. I'll be here.

Dayla stared at his response.

That was the problem.

He had always been there.

Even when she had been foolish enough to trust everyone else, her anonymous friend had listened without judging her.

She did not know that Luthur Chris had spent years loving her from a distance.

She did not know that he had attended her burial in another lifetime.

And she certainly did not know that the man she rejected in public was the one person who would never willingly let her face danger alone.

For now, she needed him to remain a stranger.

It was safer that way.

That evening, Dayla arrived at the restaurant where Adrian had arranged dinner.

She wore a simple black dress and carried a small handbag. Her expression was calm, but her eyes missed nothing.

Adrian stood when he saw her.

"There she is."

He kissed her cheek.

In her first life, the gesture had made her feel loved.

Now, she fought the urge to step away.

"You look beautiful," he said.

"Thank you."

Vanessa sat at the table, smiling brightly.

"Finally! I thought you had forgotten about us."

"How could I forget?"

Dayla took her seat.

Adrian poured her a glass of wine.

"I've been thinking about our future," he began.

"Have you?"

"Of course. We're getting older, and I think it's time we started making serious plans."

Vanessa nodded enthusiastically.

"That's wonderful. You two deserve the best."

Dayla looked from one to the other.

"What kind of plans?"

Adrian smiled.

"Marriage, obviously. But before that, we should organize your father's estate properly. Some of those properties aren't producing the income they could. I know a few people who could help us manage them."

There it was.

The same conversation.

The same careful approach.

In her first life, she had been flattered that Adrian wanted to help her.

This time, she understood that he wanted access.

"That's an interesting idea," she said.

His expression brightened.

"Really?"

"Yes. But I've decided to review all the documents with my father's lawyer first."

For a fraction of a second, Adrian's smile faltered.

Vanessa noticed.

"Why?" she asked. "Adrian is only trying to help you."

"I'm sure he is. But my father always told me never to make important decisions without understanding the details."

Adrian leaned forward.

"Of course, sweetheart. But there's no need to make things complicated. I can handle most of it for you."

Dayla met his eyes.

"I know you believe that."

He frowned.

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing."

She picked up her glass.

"Let's enjoy dinner."

The conversation continued, but something had changed.

Adrian watched her more carefully.

Vanessa asked questions about the lawyer's meeting, pretending to be concerned about the estate.

Dayla answered vaguely, refusing to reveal anything useful.

For the first time, she could see the calculation behind their smiles.

And for the first time, they were beginning to realize that she might not be as easy to control as they had believed.

When dinner ended, Adrian walked her to her car.

"Dayla, are you upset with me?"

She looked at him.

"No. Why would I be?"

"You've been distant lately."

"Perhaps I've been thinking about my future."

He reached for her hand.

"You know I only want what's best for you."

She remembered the door closing.

The flames rising.

His voice telling her he had never loved her.

Dayla gently withdrew her hand.

"I hope so, Adrian."

She entered the car and closed the door.

As the driver pulled away, she looked through the window and watched Adrian's figure grow smaller.

He stood beside Vanessa, both of them talking.

Then Vanessa turned toward the departing car.

Even from a distance, Dayla recognized the expression on her face.

Suspicion.

Good.

Let them wonder.

Let them worry.

They had spent her first life believing she was too trusting to notice their lies.

Now, every smile would be questioned. Every promise would be examined. Every secret would eventually be dragged into the light.

Dayla turned away from the window and opened her phone.

A new message from Luthur waited for her.

Luthur: I'm here whenever you're ready to talk.

For the first time that day, her expression softened.

She typed back.

Dayla: Thank you. I think I'm going to need you more than you realize.

Across the city, Luthur read her words.

He had no idea what had happened to change her.

But one thing was certain.

Dayla Stanford was in trouble.

And this time, he intended to find out why before it was too late.