Pain.
That was the first thing Aiden felt.
Not the sharp, crushing agony of his heart giving out, but a dull, persistent ache—like a headache that pulsed behind his eyes, grounding him in something solid and unmistakably real.
He gasped.
Air rushed violently into his lungs, burning as though he had been drowning moments before. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he sucked in breath after breath, fingers curling into the soft fabric beneath him.
Soft.
That was strange.
The rain was gone.
The cold concrete of the bridge was gone.
Instead, warmth surrounded him. The air smelled faintly of cedarwood and clean linen. Somewhere nearby, a clock ticked steadily, each second loud in the silence.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Aiden froze.
Slowly—very slowly—he opened his eyes.
The ceiling above him was unfamiliar yet painfully recognizable. White, smooth, with a small crack near the corner he remembered staring at countless nights when sleep refused to come.
His bedroom.
No.
That was impossible.
His breath hitched as his gaze darted around the room. The dark curtains drawn halfway. The bookshelf near the window. The painting his mother insisted made the space "less lonely."
This was his bedroom.
Not the one he had moved into after his engagement.
This was the bedroom in the Aiden family estate.
The one he had lived in before everything went wrong.
"No…" he whispered hoarsely.
His voice sounded younger. Clearer. Untouched by grief.
Aiden pushed himself upright too quickly, dizziness washing over him. He squeezed his eyes shut until the room stopped spinning, then lifted his hands in front of his face.
They were unmarked.
No tremor. No weakness.
His skin was smooth, pale, unblemished—no IV scars, no signs of stress or illness.
His heart slammed violently against his ribs.
This wasn't a dream.
Dreams didn't feel like this.
His gaze snapped to the bedside table.
His phone lay there, screen dark.
Hands shaking, Aiden grabbed it and pressed the power button.
The lock screen lit up.
Tuesday, May 14th.
8:12 AM.
The date burned itself into his mind.
May 14th.
The day of his engagement party.
The morning before Sebastian destroyed him.
Aiden's fingers went numb.
He dropped the phone as if it had burned him, his chest tightening until it felt impossible to breathe.
"I… came back?" he whispered.
The words sounded unreal, absurd.
Rebirth.
He had read about it before. Stories where fate reversed itself, where the dead were granted a second chance to fix their mistakes.
He had never believed them.
Yet here he was.
Alive.
Whole.
Back before everything went wrong.
A sharp, hysterical laugh escaped his throat before he could stop it. It sounded ugly, broken, nothing like the composed heir he was supposed to be.
"Is this… some kind of joke?" he muttered.
As if answering him, a flood of memories surged forward—clearer, sharper than before.
Sebastian's smile.
The engagement ring.
The way Sebastian had held his hands and promised, "Trust me. I'll never hurt you."
The betrayal.
The humiliation.
The rain.
The crushing pain in his chest.
Aiden doubled over, clutching his head as the memories threatened to drown him.
"No," he whispered fiercely. "No, no, no…"
His breathing turned ragged.
This wasn't a blessing.
It was torture.
To remember everything so clearly—to remember how stupidly, blindly in love he had been.
Aiden dragged himself out of bed, bare feet hitting the cold floor. He stumbled toward the mirror across the room and stopped short.
The person staring back at him was familiar yet distant.
Younger.
Softer.
His features were sharp but unmarked by exhaustion. His eyes—normally calm and warm—were wide, shadowed by something dark and unfamiliar.
Hatred.
Regret.
Resolve.
"So this is me," he murmured. "Before I ruined everything."
His reflection didn't answer.
Slowly, deliberately, Aiden straightened his back.
If fate had dragged him back to this moment, then he refused to waste it.
Never again.
A knock sounded at the door.
"Aiden?" a gentle voice called. "Are you awake?"
His mother.
His chest tightened painfully.
In his last life, she had aged ten years overnight after the engagement scandal. She had tried to protect him from the media, from the whispers, from Sebastian's ruthless withdrawal.
She had failed.
"I'm awake," Aiden replied, forcing his voice steady.
The door opened, and his mother stepped inside, her expression warm and relieved.
"Good. I was worried you overslept," she said with a smile. "Today is a big day."
Aiden's nails dug into his palms.
"Yes," he said softly. "A very big day."
She didn't notice the edge in his tone. Instead, she walked closer, adjusting his collar fondly.
"The guests will arrive this evening. Sebastian's parents called earlier—they're very excited."
The name felt like poison.
Aiden swallowed hard.
"Mom," he said carefully, "what time is Sebastian coming?"
She paused. "Late afternoon, I believe. He said he wanted to prepare something special for you."
Prepare.
Yes.
A public execution.
Aiden's lips curved into a faint, humorless smile.
"That's thoughtful of him," he replied.
His mother beamed. "You've both worked so hard to get here. I'm proud of you."
Guilt twisted sharply in his chest.
"I'll be fine," Aiden said quietly. "You don't need to worry about me today."
She laughed. "You're getting married, of course I worry."
Married.
The word echoed hollowly.
After she left, Aiden sat heavily on the edge of the bed.
So this was it.
The final calm before the storm.
In his previous life, he had spent this morning anxious but happy—nervous about vows, hopeful about the future.
Now, all he felt was cold clarity.
Sebastian Hale.
Aiden closed his eyes.
In his first life, Sebastian had been nothing.
No status. No connections. No wealth.
Aiden had lifted him up, step by step.
Introduced him to investors.
Shielded him from rivals.
Funded his company quietly so Sebastian could claim success as his own.
And in return?
"I loved what you could give me."
Aiden's jaw clenched.
This time, he would give Sebastian nothing.
He stood abruptly and walked to his desk, opening his laptop. His fingers moved swiftly, efficiently, as he accessed his accounts.
The numbers stared back at him.
Everything was still under his control.
Every investment.
Every connection.
Every backdoor favor.
Sebastian's company relied on three major funding streams.
All of them were Aiden's.
In his previous life, Aiden had signed off on the next round of funding this morning—before the engagement party.
That was why Sebastian had felt confident enough to betray him publicly.
The money was already secured.
Aiden's fingers hovered over the keyboard.
Then he withdrew them.
No.
Cutting funding now would raise suspicion. Sebastian would panic—but not fall.
Not yet.
Aiden leaned back, eyes dark.
He wasn't going to destroy Sebastian quickly.
He was going to do it slowly.
Methodically.
He wanted Sebastian to feel everything he had felt—panic, helplessness, regret.
Only then would it be enough.
A knock sounded again.
This time, it was his assistant.
"Mr. Aiden, the driver is ready whenever you are."
Aiden nodded. "Tell him to wait."
He reached for his phone and scrolled through his contacts.
There it was.
A name he had never paid attention to in his first life.
Lucian Vale.
The name stirred something unfamiliar in his chest.
In his previous life, Lucian Vale had been little more than a rumor.
A shadow.
A man people feared but never spoke of openly.
By the time Aiden had learned his name, it had been too late.
Lucian Vale had risen after the engagement scandal—after Aiden's fall.
A political force.
An untouchable existence.
Aiden hadn't even known what he looked like until he saw him once, briefly, at a charity gala—long after Sebastian had destroyed him.
At the time, Lucian had stood across the room, tall and silent, watching him with an intensity Aiden hadn't understood.
Now, remembering it made Aiden's spine prickle.
Why had Lucian been watching him?
He frowned.
This time, he wouldn't wait.
Aiden tapped on the contact.
The phone rang only once.
"Speak," a deep voice answered calmly.
Aiden stiffened.
Even through the phone, Lucian's presence was unmistakable—controlled, unhurried, powerful.
"This is Aiden," he said evenly. "Aiden of the Aiden family."
Silence stretched for a fraction of a second.
"I know who you are," Lucian Vale replied.
Something about the certainty in his tone made Aiden's grip tighten.
"I want to meet," Aiden said. "Today."
Another pause.
"Why?" Lucian asked.
Aiden looked out the window, sunlight spilling across the garden where his engagement decorations would soon be placed.
"Because," he said softly, "I want to propose a marriage."
The silence this time was longer.
When Lucian spoke again, his voice was unchanged—but there was something beneath it now.
Interest.
"Location?" Lucian asked.
Aiden exhaled slowly.
"The Vale Tower. Top floor."
"I'll be there," Lucian said.
The call ended.
Aiden stared at the phone.
In his previous life, he had never spoken those words.
Never made that call.
Never chosen power over love.
He straightened, his expression hardening.
Sebastian thought today was the day he would rise.
He was wrong.
Today was the day Aiden stopped loving him.
And began destroying him.