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TILL DEATH DO US RESET Novel Cover

TILL DEATH DO US RESET

Betrayed and murdered by those she loved, Elsa Vale wakes up five months in the past with a mysterious countdown on her wrist. In this high-stakes modern romance, she has five chances to rewrite her destiny—but she soon learns that fate cannot be erased, only transferred. As she targets her killers, Elsa is drawn to Emir Wright, a cold billionaire who holds her secrets. Together, they must expose a massive conspiracy before her time runs out.
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Chapter 3

Elsa stared down at her left wrist in sheer disbelief.

October 15... 5 chances left.

"You should just leave it," the hiring manager's sharp voice snapped her out of her trance.

Before Elsa could answer, a cleaner slipped into the room to sweep up the broken porcelain. Elsa bowed, masking her internal panic, and hurried out of the corporate office with her mind spinning.

But she didn't have time to dwell on the mysterious mark. Not when she had a party to attend.

~~~

Elsa stood in front of the full-length mirror, smoothing down the fabric of a breathtaking, backless black silk gown. Her fingers brushed her waist as she stared at her reflection. She had almost forgotten that this bold, beautiful version of herself even existed.

Her eyes drifted to a manila folder resting on the vanity. She picked it up, sliding the paperwork out to look at it one last time.

Divorce Decree.

She carefully slid the decree inside a stack of corporate asset files, tucked them into her bag, and walked out. Her heels echoed sharply down the grand hallway of the luxury hotel.

In her past life, this birthday party had been a nightmare she desperately wanted to forget. A drunk client had mistaken her for a waitress, humiliating her and pushing her to the floor while Josh simply watched from afar, too terrified of ruining his career to admit she was his wife.

Elsa's legs froze right in front of the grand ballroom entrance. The laughter leaking out from inside sounded exactly the same. The music. The snobbish, elite voices.

She pushed the heavy double doors open, scanning the high-society crowd, then spotted him. Josh was standing near the VIP lounge, and right beside him, laughing elegantly, was Dora.

Elsa smoothly snagged a glass of red wine from a waiter's tray and began walking toward the same table she had occupied in her past life—then stopped herself, shaking her head. No. Sitting there would be like begging karma to repeat itself.

She moved to an adjacent table, crossing her legs gracefully as she took a slow sip of her wine.

Moments later, a young woman walked into the ballroom, nervously tugging at the hood of her oversized sweatshirt, looking completely out of place—just like Elsa once had. The girl walked over and sat down at the exact table Elsa had just vacated.

"Hey!" a harsh voice broke through the music. A wealthy guest shoved an empty glass into the young girl's hands.

"I'm not..." the girl tried to explain, but it was too late. Another man approached, thrusting more empty glasses into her hands, treating her like hired help.

The girl lowered her head, her shoulders trembling as she took the glasses.

Thud. Splash.

Elsa's eyes widened. The girl was shoved down, desperately trying to pick up the shattered glass from the floor.

"Are you okay?" a smooth, unfamiliar voice asked..The crowd went quiet. Elsa tried to peer through the elite guests, but she couldn't see the face of the man who stepped in to help the girl up.

The tragedy was still happening—but the victim had changed.

Someone took my place... because I walked away.

Elsa looked back at Josh, then at Dora standing proudly by his side. If fate could replace one victim, could it replace another? Could Dora become the woman destroyed by Josh instead of her, if she simply allowed Dora to take her place?

Elsa's hand tightened around the stem of her wine glass, knuckles turning white.

Since you want my husband so badly, Dora, I will gladly give you my fate.

But first, she had to stop history from repeating itself tonight. It was after this very party in her past life that she had gotten pregnant.

Her phone blinked in her palm.

Josh: Meet me in the VIP dressing room. Now.

Josh locked the door behind Elsa the moment she walked into the private room.

"Elsa, what the... what are you wearing?!" "His eyes flashed with anger.

"It's a birthday surprise," she murmured, stepping closer.

"A surprise? It's completely exposing your body. You shouldn't be wearing this," he whispered harshly. "Go change into something nice."

"I can't."

"What?"

"You told me I shouldn't walk up to you in public, and now you don't even want me to look beautiful for you?.... I'm just trying to look beautiful like the others, Josh."

He stepped closer, his expression softening. "Elsa, you know why I'm keeping our marriage a secret... don't you?"

"To protect me from the company... right."

Josh nodded "Yes babe"

"Okay, Josh, I will change out of this dress later..." She stepped into his space, her hand sliding up his arm. "But I actually need you to do something for me first."

She reached into her bag and pulled out the manila folder. "It just needs your signature, Josh. I don't know when we'll get another private moment like this again."

"What's this?"

"How can I spill my surprise?" She nudged him playfully. "You want a baby, don't you?"

He looked at Elsa for a second, a greedy smile touching his lips, then took the pen from her hand. "Don't forget... tonight"

Just sign it... Elsa chanted fiercely in her mind.

His eyes scanned the top of the paper, the pen hovering over the signature line.

A loud, aggressive knock rattled the dressing room door.

"Sir! They need you on the main floor right now!" a waiter shouted from the hallway.

"I'm coming!" Josh snapped, irritated.

"Sir?" the knock continued frantically. "Sir... it seems Mr. Emir has just arrived!"

"Fuck!" Josh swore under his breath. "Why is he here?" He signed without another glance, dropped the pen, and rushed out the door.

Breathe, Elsa... Breathe.

The moment the door slammed shut, Elsa ripped the file open. Her finger traced the fresh black ink of his signature.

"Ma'am..." The waiter who had knocked peeked his head through the door. "All done."

Elsa smiled as she slipped a few bills into his palm. "Thanks for your help," she whispered.

The waiter nodded and disappeared into the corridor.

Elsa walked back out toward the lounge. Her eyes drifted to Dora, who was breathing heavily, her hand moving nervously to her collar.

Dora reached for Josh's hand beneath the table, gently sliding it onto her thigh. A moment later, she pushed open the exit door, and Josh quietly followed her into the shadows.

It is done.

Elsa snatched a full bottle of wine from the bar and pushed open the heavy door to the rooftop.

She slipped off her high heels, letting the cold concrete shock her bare feet. Slowly, she rolled back her left sleeve, looking for the glowing digital text.

But the mark was gone.

"What are you?" she whispered to her own wrist.

Shaking her head, she popped the cork and drank nearly half the bottle. The wine burned her throat as hot tears finally rolled down her cheeks.

"Congratulations, Dora!" Elsa laughed out loud, raising the wine bottle. "Congratulations on taking my trash!"

Her head spun violently as she tightened her grip on the rooftop railing but stumbled backward with a gasp. Strong arms caught her from behind before her body could hit the hard concrete.

A rich, masculine scent surrounded her. She turned to see her savior's face, but the world dissolved into a chaotic blur.

***

"Elsa... Elsa, wake up! Let's run!" Julie cried, frantically shaking her.

"Julie... what's wrong?" little Elsa whispered.

"They're going to sell us! We have to leave! Run!"

"No... no..." Elsa's head shook violently as her hand tightened around the sheets.

"Elsa! Run... let's run!"

Elsa jolted awake, Julie's terrified voice still echoing in her ears.

For a few seconds, she simply stared upward, trying to catch her breath.

“Elsa...”

His deep voice cut through her memory.

Elsa blinked hard, her chest heaving as her trembling fingers fumbled with the stranger's tie, desperate to loosen the knot.

She crashed her lips against his before she could stop herself.

“You're drunk,” the stranger said, pulling back.

“Shhh...” she whispered, tightening her grip on his shirt. “Don't leave me.”

She reached for the zipper of her black dress—

She could still feel his hands and mouth on her.

But how did he know my name?

Her watery eyes swept across the unfamiliar luxury ceiling.

Elsa bolted upright.

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