A Marriage Bound by Survival
The sharp morning light poured through the tall bedroom windows, casting a soft glow over the grand, unfamiliar room. Aria sat on the edge of the velvet armchair, fingers tightening around the soft fabric of the robe as she let out a slow, steadying breath.
It wasn't a dream. Not a delusion. She was alive, in a new body, in a life that wasn't hers… but now, it was.
Her lips curled into a bitter, self-mocking smile.
"Reborn… in the body of Elena Moore," she whispered to herself, testing the new name on her tongue. "Fine. So be it."
Aria Blackwell—the feared strategist, the multi-skilled heiress who built an empire from nothing—was dead. But if fate gave her this life, then she would claim it fully. Not just for herself, but for the woman whose body now housed her soul.
Her gaze steeled as she stood up, the determination in her chest burning brighter.
"Don't worry, Elena… I'll get revenge for both of us," she muttered. "For me… for you… and for everything they took from us."
Pushing herself to her feet, she made her way into the adjoining walk-in closet. The moment she opened the double doors, she was greeted by rows and rows of extravagant gowns, sparkling evening dresses, sequined numbers, and over-the-top designer heels. It was as if the woman had been dressing for red carpets every day of her life.
Her brows shot up.
"What in the world… is this a boutique or a personal wardrobe?" Aria scoffed under her breath, running her fingers through the sea of glitter and tulle.
More digging revealed almost no casual wear—just cocktail dresses, elaborate gowns, and a few scattered luxury brand purses. Not a single simple T-shirt or a pair of jeans in sight. She exhaled sharply, an amused grin tugging at her lips.
"Elena… you really lived in a fairytale bubble, didn't you?"
With no intention of walking around like she was about to waltz into a gala, Aria rummaged until she found a pair of sports leggings and a casual hoodie buried in a corner of the closet—probably a gift someone once forced onto Elena. Slipping them on, she stretched her limbs, welcoming the freedom of movement she had always preferred.
Her eyes swept the closet once more.
"First order of business… go shopping." She needed normal clothes and sleek formal wear to reclaim power in this new life.
As she turned to leave the closet, her hand on the doorknob, she stilled.
'Footsteps '
She stepped out into the grand bedroom and immediately froze.
Standing near the floor-length window was a man. Tall, broad-shouldered, radiating an imposing dominance. Dressed in a crisp white shirt with the sleeves casually rolled up, veins lining his strong forearms, the man's mere presence seemed to command the entire room.
Aria's heart skipped, her breath catching in her throat.
"So… this is Sebastian Hart" she thought.
In her previous life, she had only heard of him in whispers ....low-profile, elusive, barely photographed by the media. But seeing him now… up close… Aria had to admit, he was devastatingly handsome. Strong jawline, perfectly structured features, jet-black hair falling effortlessly in soft waves, and eyes like glaciers -cold, sharp, and merciless.
His gaze shifted, catching her staring.
"What are you looking at?" His tone was cool, dismissive, a brow arching in arrogance.
Before she could react, something flew in her direction. She instinctively caught the pen he tossed at her, and her eyes followed his hand as he pointed towards a stack of documents on the bedside table.
"Divorce papers," he said bluntly, his voice carrying the weight of finality. "Sign them."
Aria blinked, every muscle in her body locking in place. "Divorce… already?"
Her feet moved stiffly as she approached the bedside, fingers trembling slightly as she picked up the documents. Her gaze flickered over the cold legal language, her brain spinning through a flurry of thoughts.
Divorce… and then what? Where would I go?
Her heart sank.
In this life, Elena was an orphan, disowned by foster parents who had reunited with their biological daughter. She had no career, no assets, no safety net. If she signed this… she would be penniless, homeless, and completely powerless in a world that thrived on connections.
Her lips quivered. Her pride screamed at her to throw the pen back in his face, to burn the papers, to challenge the man's arrogance… but survival… survival always came first.
In a split-second decision, Aria dropped to her knees before the towering figure. The sound of her knees hitting the soft carpet startled even herself.
"Please… I can't…" she whispered, her voice hoarse, her head bowed. "I have nowhere to go… nowhere to turn to… Please… give me some time… Just a little more time to figure things out… and then… I'll leave quietly."
The room fell into thick, stunned silence.
When Aria dared to glance up, she saw the flash of surprise crossing Sebastian's usually indifferent expression. His cold gaze narrowed, examining her like an unpredictable puzzle piece.
He crossed his arms, his jaw tightening.
"Interesting," he muttered, voice laced with suspicion. "You're not going to run crying to my grandmother? Not going to threaten to expose me at the family estate like you always do?"
Aria swallowed hard, lowering her eyes like a pitiful abandoned pet. "No… no more tricks… I just… need time."
The man exhaled sharply, irritation flashing in his features before he turned away, grabbing his watch from the nightstand.
"Fine. You have three months," he snapped. "Three months, and then you'll sign the papers. After that… you're gone."
With that, Sebastian stormed out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Aria's shoulders sagged as she let out a long breath, her fingers still curled tightly around the pen.
Three months.
"Three months to change my fate" she whispered.
Her lips pressed into a thin line as she stood, walking over to the window and gazing at the distant skyline.
She would not be thrown away like trash.
No, she would rebuild herself, carve out her place in this ruthless world, and wield the power of the Hart name until she no longer needed it. She would stay married to Sebastian—not out of love, but because she needed his influence, his protection, his reach—to uncover the truth behind her death, to crush those who betrayed her, and to pay back every humiliation Elena endured.
Her hands clenched into fists.
They thought they killed Aria Blackwell. They thought Elena Moore was a weakling.
But what the world didn't know… was that the woman they had buried had been reborn.
And this time, she wasn't here to play nice.
She was here to win.