Adaline POV:
Janell' s brazenness, her outright smugness, was a stark contrast to the subtle manipulations I remembered from my past life. Back then, she' d been a snake in the grass, whispering poison, acting the innocent victim. Now? She was practically screaming her victories from the rooftops. It made sense, then, why Bradly and Janell' s affair was such an open secret. Everyone knew. They just chose to ignore it.
My "memories" of that past life flashed before my eyes. A life where I, the naïve fool, had married Bradly, believing his empty promises. A life where I' d poured my heart and soul into his family' s failing company, transforming it into a titan of industry.
I remembered the elders' approving nods. "Adaline brings good fortune," they' d said, their voices warm, but their eyes always on the bottom line.
Their warmth had been my solace, even when Bradly' s indifference cut me. I' d found a strange kind of contentment in their approval, in building something, in believing I had a place. A purpose.
Until the day I opened the box.
The memory was still hazy, a nightmare on the edge of waking, but the betrayal was sharp. It was the moment all my illusions shattered.
A soft knock interrupted my thoughts. The door creaked open.
"Adaline, darling?" My mother' s voice was hesitant. "Garrison Fletcher is coming tonight. Your uncle."
I froze. Garrison. My uncle. In this life, soon to be my husband.
My mother caught my gaze, her mouth opening as if to say more, but she just sighed, a long, weary sound, and left. She couldn' t possibly know what I knew. Not really.
The elders, for all their kindness, were pragmatic. They liked me, yes, but their affection was tied to the prosperity I brought. Otherwise, they wouldn't have so readily covered for Bradly' s secrets in my previous life.
Garrison was the only exception.
In my last life, he' d lived abroad, a reclusive billionaire, never marrying. He' d always shown me genuine concern, even chastising Bradly on occasion. He was the only one who truly saw me.
And now, he was my ticket out. My choice. A far better choice than a complete stranger, or worse, repeating the nightmare with Bradly.
The idea had been planted in my mind shortly after I woke from the coma, after the raw, vivid "memories" of my ruined future flooded my consciousness. I had subtly floated the idea, a desperate gambit. I hadn' t expected it to work. After all, Garrison was powerful, respected. He wouldn' t agree to such a casual proposal.
But it had gone far more smoothly than I could have ever imagined. My mother had told me he' d paused, a brief, thoughtful silence, then agreed. Just like that.
The next morning, I arrived at the office, the air still thick with the lingering scent of last night' s humiliation, but my mind was set. I needed to finish the proposal. It was my wedding gift to Garrison.
My magnum opus. A proposal for the acquisition of the largest electronics company in the country. If successful, it would catapult his firm into the top three, globally. It was a project I' d poured countless hours into.
Originally, it had been for Bradly. Every intricate detail, every projected growth, tailored to his family' s business. Now, it had to be refashioned for Garrison. His company. His vision.
I' d spent sleepless nights hunched over my laptop, reshaping, refining, perfecting. Finally, it was done.
I rubbed my tired eyes, the ache a familiar companion, and headed downstairs for a much-needed coffee. The office was quiet, the early morning hours a sanctuary.
When I returned, a chill seized me. My laptop. The screen was on, but the folder containing my proposal was empty. Gone.
Panic flared, cold and sharp. I grabbed my phone, my fingers flying as I accessed the office security footage.
The figure on screen was cloaked in anonymity-a mask, a baseball cap pulled low. But then, a flash. The distinctive glimmer of a pink diamond ring on her finger.
Janell.
Rage, pure and unadulterated, coursed through me, making my hands tremble. My "memories" had painted her as sly, but never this openly destructive.
I stormed toward Janell' s office, my feet pounding against the carpet. The door was ajar.
I pushed it open.
Bradly sat perched on Janell' s desk, his arms wrapped around her. Their lips were still glistening from their hurried, hungry kiss as they pulled apart, a thin strand of saliva connecting them for a fleeting moment.
I didn' t care about propriety. I didn't care about their sordid display. I lunged forward, grabbing Janell' s wrist, my grip tight.
"Who the hell gave you permission to touch my computer?!" I demanded, my voice shaking with fury.
Bradly shoved me back, his eyes blazing. "Are you insane, Adaline?!"
Janell, the master of theatrics, dissolved into sobs, hiding behind Bradly. "Oh, Adaline," she sniffled, peeking out from behind his shoulder, her eyes wide and innocent. "I' m so, so sorry. I didn' t mean to delete it. I' ll make it up to you. I' ll even get on my knees if I have to."
She began to lower herself, her knees bending dramatically.
Bradly caught her, pulling her into a protective embrace. "What is wrong with you, Adaline?" he snarled, his eyes accusing.
"What' s wrong with me?" I shrieked, the last vestiges of my self-control burning away in a fiery inferno. "That was my wedding gift! To my fiancé!"
Bradly scoffed, a cold, derisive sound. "Am I not your fiancé? I appreciate the sentiment, but why are you making such a fuss over a simple proposal?"
My gaze fell on Janell' s laptop. The screen was still open, displaying a report she' d been working on.
I grabbed the nearest glass of water from her desk and, without a second thought, flung it across the room.
The water hit the laptop with a crackle. Smoke billowed from the keyboard, followed by a series of angry pops.
Janell shrieked, clutching Bradly' s arm. "My report! My report!"
I smirked, echoing Bradly' s earlier words. "It' s just a report, Janell. Why are you making such a fuss?"
Bradly stared at me, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. He' d been saying for days that something was different about me. Now, he knew it.
I turned to leave. He reached for my wrist, but Janell' s hand shot out, tugging at his sleeve.
"Bradly! My hand! It' s burning from the hot water!" she cried, a fresh wave of tears streaming down her face. "Go talk to Adaline. I' ll be fine."
Bradly hesitated for a second, his hand still outstretched towards me, before letting it fall.
"She did nothing wrong," he seethed, turning his fury on me. "You' re just petty, Adaline."
