Chapter 1

The wet heat pressed against me. I felt the warmth of a body, the soft scent of her hair. My arms tightened around her, a desperate, familiar motion. It was Sera. My Sera. I was finally back with her.

"Sera," I murmured, my voice thick with sleep and longing.

"CUT!"

The shout was like a gunshot.

Bright lights flooded my vision. The soft body in my arms was gone. I was on a cold, hard floor, surrounded by cameras and crew members. A man with a headset was screaming at me.

"Liam! What the hell was that? The script says you force her! You don't kiss her neck like you're her goddamn lover!"

My head throbbed. The director' s face was a mask of fury. This wasn't a dream. This was real.

I was back.

I had been reborn. Back to the day it all started. Before I destroyed everything. Before I caused her death.

Across the set, Seraphina "Sera" Vance stood under the harsh lights. She was breathtaking, dressed in a silk gown that clung to her perfect figure. She was the untouchable music mogul, the heiress to the Vance Media empire. And in this timeline, she didn't know me. Not like she did before.

I stumbled to my feet. "Sera, I'm sorry. I was confused."

I reached for her, an instinct from a life she didn't remember.

She flinched back as if I were carrying a disease. Her face, which had been a mask of professional indifference, twisted into disgust.

She pulled a sanitizing wipe from a small case her assistant held out and meticulously cleaned the back of her hand, the one I had almost touched. Her eyes were ice.

"Don't touch me," she said, her voice low and sharp.

My own eyes started to burn. The rejection was a physical blow. How could I explain? How could I tell her I'd come back from the dead, from a future where she loved me, just to save her?

It was impossible. She would think I was insane.

"Sera," I said, my voice cracking. "I... I like you."

The words tumbled out, desperate and raw. The crew, who had been whispering, fell silent.

Sera looked at me, her expression unreadable for a moment before it settled into cold, hard pity.

"I don't like you," she said, her voice clear and carrying across the silent set. "Stay away from me."

Laughter rippled through the crew. My face burned with humiliation. I froze, the public rejection echoing in the large studio. This wasn't the Sera I knew. The Sera I knew had confessed she'd loved me from this very first meeting.

"Liam! My office. Now!"

Brenda, my agent, grabbed my arm, her nails digging into my skin. She dragged me away from the set, her voice a furious hiss in my ear.

"Are you out of your mind? That's Seraphina Vance! She eats nobodies like you for breakfast. Men who try to use her for a headline end up as ghosts in this industry."

She shoved me into a chair in a small, cluttered office. "You will apologize, and then you will never speak to her again unless it's in the script. Do you understand me?"

I didn't answer. I couldn't. All I could think about was Sera's cold face. My one goal was to get her back, to fix my mistakes. Staying away wasn't an option.

Brenda threw a piece of paper on the table. It was an address. "This is her private beach house in Malibu. You're going there tonight to beg for forgiveness."

A flicker of hope ignited in my chest. Her private house. Maybe she did feel something. Maybe she wanted to see me away from all these people. It was a sign.

I drove to Malibu, my heart pounding with a desperate, foolish hope. I parked and walked towards the gate of a stunning modern mansion overlooking the ocean.

As I raised my hand to press the intercom, a dozen flashes went off.

Paparazzi swarmed me from the bushes.

The gate buzzed open. Sera stood there, wrapped in a cashmere robe, her arms crossed. Her face was a mask of icy fury.

"So this was your plan," she said, her voice dripping with contempt. "Get rejected on set, then show up at my house with photographers to create a scandal. Pathetic."