Chapter 1

The acrid smell of smoke filled my lungs, a phantom sensation from a life burned away. Flames licked at the expensive curtains of our new home, the one I bought for Chloe. Our wedding night. A heavy vase crashed against my skull. Through the haze of pain and smoke, Chloe’s voice, sharp and cold. “You and Mom and Dad ruined my love. I’ve given everything to Ryan. You destroyed my life. Now you can die with me.” The heat. The searing pain. Then, nothing.

I gasped, sitting bolt upright. My own bedroom. Not the master suite of the new villa. No red decorations. No smoke. My heart hammered against my ribs. I was alive. Disbelief warred with a dizzying wave of joy. “Ethan… I don’t feel good…” Chloe’s voice. Low, strained, from her room next door. A chill snaked down my spine. I glanced at the digital clock on my nightstand: 11:03 PM. June 12th. My blood ran cold. This was the night. The night she was drugged. The phantom pain of shattered ceramic on my head, the suffocating heat of the fire, it all rushed back. My first instinct: run. Get out of this house. Get away from Chloe.

I fumbled with my sneakers, hands shaking, not bothering with the laces. Before I could reach my door, it creaked open. Chloe stood there, leaning against the frame. Her face was flushed, her eyes unnaturally bright. Even through the haze of whatever drug clouded her system, the wariness and disgust in her eyes when she looked at me were unmistakable. “Ethan,” her voice was raspy. “I already called Ryan. You need to go pick him up. Now.” A thought, cold and sharp, pierced through my confusion. Chloe was reborn too. I nodded, feigning casualness. I grabbed my car keys from the dresser. I brushed past her, keeping my eyes fixed ahead, and walked quickly down the hall. As I stepped out of the front door, I could feel her gaze, venomous and intense, on my back. The address Chloe had given Ryan, the one she now recited to me, was for the condo I’d bought her near the university. So, she and Ryan had been living together. Her claims that I destroyed her love for him… they had a twisted truth to them. Ryan yanked open the passenger door of my Tesla almost before I’d fully stopped. He slid into the seat. “How is she? Chloe, is she okay?” Ryan’s voice was tight with supposed concern. But I saw it, or maybe I imagined it – a flicker of triumph, of desire fulfilled, in his eyes. “You’ll see when we get there,” I said, my voice flat. I didn’t want to talk to him. Not because of jealousy. Because my parents and I despised him.