Why Mourn What You Killed?

Half an hour later, my best friend Claire Ashford burst into the apartment. She was a partner at Ashcroft & Bell, one of the top law firms in Belgrave. The moment she saw how pale I looked, her eyes welled with tears.

"Emma, is Alexander out of his mind? In his past life, he defied his entire family to save you. And now he wants to marry that manipulative bitch?"

"There's news from the board," she added breathlessly. "Your father gave you two choices—either win Alexander back or accept a political marriage with the heir to the largest energy conglomerate in Velmora."

I poured her a martini and spoke calmly. "What's there to fight for? He chose someone else. Why would I lower myself to chase after a man who doesn't want me?

"I'll take the marriage. If I'm going to be forced into marriage anyway, I might as well choose the option that benefits my career."

In the McKenzie family, even though I was the sole heir, the board had always believed a woman needed a powerful husband to secure her position.

From what I'd heard, Mikhail Romanov, the heir to Vostmark's energy empire, had a good reputation. He was introverted, but at least he wasn't a playboy.

In the previous life, Sophia married into that family and ignited one scandal after another, eventually destroying herself completely.

If I took the marriage seriously, things might turn out quite differently for me.

Claire stared at me in disbelief. I told her the truth about the memory suppressant.

She slammed her glass down on the table, furious. "That bastard! The Food and Drug Administration blacklists that drug!

"He gave you that crap for Sophia? Does he even understand it causes permanent emotional impairment?

"I'd bet my license he still loves you. Otherwise, he wouldn't have come up with something so convoluted. But he's too arrogant, thinking he can control everything as if it were some master plan. The day he finds out the truth, he's going to wish he were dead."

I lowered my gaze, tracing the rim of my glass with my finger.

Whether or not he regretted it no longer had anything to do with me. In seven days, everything about him would be wiped clean from my mind—beyond the reach of memory or emotion.

The next morning, representatives from the Romanov family arrived with the documents—a thick stack of business contracts, an equity distribution plan, and a letter.

I opened the envelope. Inside was a handwritten note from Mikhail, penned in neat Velric script.

"Ms. McKenzie, although this is a business arrangement, I promise to treat you with the respect you deserve. I look forward to meeting you."

It was short, but sincere.

Sophia never received that kind of respect in her past life. Mikhail had been cold and distant toward her, or so the rumors said. Maybe this was the butterfly effect.

I reviewed the itinerary. The signing ceremony was scheduled for six days later in Stravenholm—the same day as Alexander's engagement party.

He would get engaged, and I would be leaving the country to marry. And that would be the end of it.

Perhaps that was for the best.

After organizing the files, I drove alone to Fifth Avenue.

Christmas had just passed, and the shop windows still shimmered with festive decorations. I stopped in front of Elouisse and stared at the diamond rings on display.

In my past life, he had custom-made a one-of-a-kind pink diamond ring for me here. He said the color reminded him of my cheeks when I blushed.

To buy that ring, he sold his sports car and took the subway for three months.

"Emma, this ring represents my heart. One of a kind. Just for you."

The sound of the store door opening snapped me out of the memory.

I held my breath. It was Alexander and Sophia.

He was bent over the counter, inspecting a ring. His focused profile overlapped with the one in my memories.

"This is the one," he said to the sales associate. "Pink diamond. 5.3 carats. The one I ordered last week."

It felt like a blade slicing through my chest.

Same brand. Same style. Same carat weight.

He had sold his car for mine. Now, he would sell a yacht for hers.

So much for one of a kind. In the end, it was just another mass-replicable product.

"It's stunning!" Sophia squealed, her voice grating like nails on glass. "Alexander, this must've cost a fortune!"

"You deserve the best," he said gently as he slipped the ring onto her finger.

I turned to leave, but he caught sight of me.

He rushed out and caught up with me on the sidewalk.

"Emma, what are you doing here? It's not safe to be out shopping alone. You know what Veridon's like. Do you want me to drive you home?"

His concern only made the situation more bitterly ironic.

"Mr. Smith, where I go is none of your concern. You're about to become Sophia's fiance. Don't you think chasing after another woman is a bit inappropriate?"

His expression froze. A flicker of hurt crossed his eyes.

Sophia came out carrying her shopping bags, proudly flashing the ring on her hand.

"Emma, you like Elouisse too? What a shame. This ring is a limited edition. There's only one in the world. Alexander even flew in a designer from Chantelais just for me. Isn't it gorgeous?"

I gave it a glance and offered a bland smile. "It's lovely. He really went all out for you."

Alexander kept staring at me, as if trying to read something on my face.

"If you… If you like it too, I can—"

"You can what?" I cut him off with a cold laugh. "Order me a matching one? So this is who you really are, Mr. Smith. The kind of scumbag who plays both sides. You're disgusting."