The scent of gardenias pulled her awake.
Lina gasped, bolting upright, chest heaving like she'd been drowning. Phantom rain still echoed in her ears, but the room...this room was wrong. It was luxurious and familiar. The master bedroom of the Cole estate, with its heavy champagne-and-gold damask curtains and silk sheets that cost a fortune.
Her hands flew to her face; it was smooth and wrinkle-free. Her long, dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, hair thick and glossy. She swung her legs out of bed, bare feet sinking into plush carpet. The mirror across the room showed a woman she hadn't seen in decades.
Twenty-three, the spring of 2016.
Lucien was still in Singapore, closing that shipping deal. He wouldn't be back for another three days.
Everything crashed back at once. Elena was already pregnant with the boy who would be in her care later on. Ivy was conceived later, after multiple exhausting treatments, only to grow up resenting a mother who was always too busy chasing a man's affection.
Lina's knees weakened. She gripped the vanity, knuckles white.
"No," she whispered, voice young and steady for the first time in years. "Not again."
She had died alone because she chose wrong; she chose a man who never chose her, or rather was chosen for her. She chose the perfect wife instead of protecting her own daughter.
This time, though, she would choose herself.
A soft knock broke the silence, then the door opened.
"Madam? You're awake." Maggie stepped in with a breakfast tray, worry in her eyes. "You slept twelve hours. Mr Cole called last night. The Singapore deal wrapped early, so he'll be home by Friday instead of Sunday.
In her past life, Lina would have spent them running around like a fool, planning his favourite dinner, picking a dress, hoping to make him look at her twice, rehearsing how to smile just right.
This time, a small, bitter smile curved her lips.
"Thank you, Maggie. Set the tray down." She paused, voice calm. "And tell the kitchen I'll handle the dinner plans. Cancel the usual florist. I have something else in mind."
Maggie nodded, confused but obedient, and left.
Alone, Lina walked to the tall window and stared out at the rain-wet gardens. Her heart beat hard, it was not out of fear but out of what she was planning. It was time she no longer begged for crumbs. She was getting out.
Friday came faster than Lina expected.
She stood in the grand foyer of the Cole estate, the same place where she had once waited like a lovesick fool for Lucien's car to pull up the long driveway. The marble floor gleamed under the chandelier light. Fresh flowers, white lilies, her favourites this time, not the gardenias he preferred, sat on the console table. She had changed the order herself.
No more perfect wife performance.
Her reflection in the tall mirror showed a woman who looked soft on the outside: cream silk blouse tucked into tailored black trousers, hair loose in waves, minimal makeup that let her green eyes stand out. But inside, something had turned to steel.
The black Mercedes rolled to a stop outside. The driver opened the door, and Lucien Cole stepped out.
His custom suit was without a wrinkle after the long flight. Sharp jaw, dark eyes that always seemed to look through people rather than at them. He was thirty-two now, at the height of his power, the Cole Group expanding fast thanks to deals like the one in Singapore.
He entered the house, handing his coat to the waiting staff without a word. His gaze landed on her.
"Lina." His voice was low, tired from travel, but still carrying that effortless command. You look...different."
In her past life, she would have stepped forward, taken his arm, asked him about the flight, and offered his favourite whiskey on ice. She would have scanned his face for any scrap of affection.
This time, though, she stayed put, hands at her sides.
"Welcome home," she said flatly.
Lucien paused, one brow lifting. He wasn't used to the chill. He studied her a second longer, then headed straight for the study. "Dinner in an hour. I've got calls to make."
"Actually," Lina said, following him, "we need to talk. Now."
He stopped at the study door and turned. A faint smirk pulled at his mouth, the one he used when something small and annoying crossed his path. "Can't it wait?"
"It can't."
She followed him inside and shut the heavy door behind them. The room smelled of leather and tobacco. Lucien dropped into the chair behind his desk and loosened his tie with two fingers.
"Fine. Speak."
Lina didn't sit. She stood in front of the desk and looked him dead in the eye.
" I want a divorce."
The words dropped between them like a hammer.
Lucien stared, for half a second, surprise flashed across his face. Then he laughed, short, low and with no real humour in it.
"Divorce?" He leaned back, fingers tapping once on the polished wood.
'Lina, what the hell is this? Maggie said you slept half the day away. Are you perhaps sick? Did something happen while I was gone?"
"I am not sick." Her voice stayed steady even though her pulse was racing. "I'm serious. This marriage has been dead for some time now, and we both know it. I want out."
He watched her, eyes narrowing. The smirk faded into something colder, the look he used when closing tough negotiations.
"You want out," he repeated slowly. "After everything I've given you? The house, and this life? Your father practically begged for this merger. You signed the prenup with your own hand."
"I was but a twenty-year-old and naïve," she said. "I thought if I tried hard enough, if I gave enough, you'd eventually choose me. But you never did and never will. Your heart was always somewhere else."
Lucien's expression hardened. He stood up slowly and came around the desk, towering over her. "And what exactly do you think you're going to do on your own? Look at yourself, Lina. You only have this face and nothing else. No skills, no money, that's truly yours, no family to fall back on. The prenup leaves you with nothing if you walk. What's your grand plan? Get a job as a receptionist? Beg in the street?"
The words hit exactly where he meant them to. But this Lina didn't flinch. She lifted her chin instead.
"Then watch me turn this face into something people would pay to have a glimpse of." She said, voice low and burning.
Lucien laughed again. But the sound had an edge now. He reached into the top drawer, pulled out a folder, and slapped it on the desk. Divorce papers. Already printed, He grabbed a pen, flipped to the signature page, and scrawled his name across the line with a quick, careless stroke.
"There, satisfied?" He pushed the papers toward her. " Take them to whatever lawyers you found. But hear me clearly, Lina. I'll give you three years. Three tears to 'make something of yourself.' If you fail, if you are still nothing, that folder you are holding will be useless, and you will come back. I am glad you did not disappoint me. I knew you wouldn't want to stay caged in here with only the title of Mrs Cole as your identity, but I hope you don't disappoint me, or you will be Mrs Cole again, and you'll stay in the place I put you."
Lina picked up the papers and folded them once, neatly. She had no idea he had never and ner will file his copy. To her, this was real.
"Three years," she repeated. "Fine."
She turned to leave.
"Lina."
She stopped at the door but didn't look back.
"Don't embarrass the Cole name out there,"he said quietly. "It still means something."
She walked out without another word.
That night she packed one small suitcase, some clothes, a few pieces of jewellery she could sell if she had to, and the cold determination that had survived death. Maggie's hovered in the bedroom doorway, after leaving Lucien's study. Eyes wide with worry.
"Madam..your really leaving?"
"Yes." Lina zipped the bag. " Tell Lucien my things will be picked up later. And Maggie, thank you. For everyting."
She left the estate in a taxi just after midnight. The mansion lights grew smaller in the rearview mirror until they disappeared.
The city stretched out ahead, bright and bitingly cold that she had to wound down the car windows. She had almost no cash, no industry contacts yet, but she had two lifetimes of knowledge no one else possessed.
She knew which modeling agencies would take the risk on a new face in 2016. Shw also knew the trends that would explode in the next few years and knew exactly how to turn beauty into power.
Her first stop tomorrow was a small but hungry agency downtown that specialised in fresh talent.
As the taxi driver moved deeper into the city, Lina touched the folded divorce papers in her bag on her lap.
She thought she was finally free of the Mrs Cole title and whatever burdens that came with it.
She had no idea Lucien was already on the phone in the empty master bedroom, staring at the cold side of the bed where she used to sleep.
The lilies on the table smelled just right. He had never told her that he did not like the smell of gardenias. He only liked them because they reminded him of his mother. They were her favourites.
He poured himself a whiskey and dialed a number.
"Watch her," he told the man on the other end, his voice low. "Discreetly, her every move and action. Report back to me only. And make sure anyone that messes with her especially physically, is dealt with in a way that they will be forgotten."
He ended the call and took a long drink.
For the first time in years the big house felt hollow, yet for the first time in years his heart was finally alive.