Chapter 1

I faked my own death to slip away, spending three months at a secret facility working on a classified medical project.

The day the project wrapped up, the entire city was tuned in to watch a lavish wedding broadcast live.

On the screen, the meek little nanny's daughter — the one everyone thought they could push around — was wearing a one-of-a-kind wedding gown I had designed with my own hands. On her head sat the heirloom crown my mother had left for me. She was nestled in the arms of my fiancé, blushing as she announced she was about to inherit the Astor family's hundred-billion-dollar fortune.

And my mother — who was supposed to be resting quietly at a care facility — had been smeared as a lunatic by these people. They had her locked in a basement, eating spoiled food.

I stormed straight to the wedding venue and gave them all a show they'd never forget: a woman rising from the dead.

The iron gates of the Astor family estate had a new passcode.

I was dressed in a plain gray work uniform, cap pulled low, blending in with the temp workers hauling in floral arrangements for the wedding. Head down, I walked through the gates of the home where I had lived for twenty-two years.

The courtyard was blanketed in Bulgarian white roses, flown in from overseas.

My fiancé, Elias Vance, had once bought out an entire estate just to grow this very variety — all to win my favor.

Now, these same roses had become Hannah Higgins's stepping stones.

"Move it, people! These flowers were specially flown in by Elias for Hannah. Damage a single petal and you won't be able to pay it off for the rest of your lives!"

A sharp voice cut through the air from the top of the steps.

I looked up, tugging my cap lower.

Standing there was Martha Higgins — the woman who used to be our family's nanny.

She was wearing a Chanel haute couture suit that had once belonged to my mother. Around her neck hung a strand of deep imperial green jade, the color rich and flawless. She was barking orders at the workers like she owned the place.

That jade necklace had been my grandmother's wedding gift to my mother.

"Hey — you! Yes, you, the one in the cap! Take that planter to the side hall. Don't block the main entrance!"

Martha's fingers, tipped in bright red nail polish, pointed straight at my face.

I kept my head down, wrapped my arms around the heavy planter, and made my way to the side hall one step at a time.

In the corner of the side hall, an old man with a full head of white hair was kneeling on the floor.

It was Charles.

Thirty years with the Astor family. The head butler who had watched me grow up.

Right now, he was on his knees with a rag in his hands, slowly wiping mud and water off the marble floor.

Hannah was wearing heels encrusted with tiny diamonds, and she was deliberately stepping across the spots Charles had just cleaned, leaving one muddy print after another.

"Charles, you're getting old. You can't even clean a floor properly anymore."

Hannah's voice was soft and sweet, but the cruelty underneath it was impossible to hide.

" Hannah…" Charles's voice was hoarse, his hands trembling slightly. "I've already wiped this floor ten times. It's you who keeps—"

"How dare you talk back?!"

Hannah snapped her foot up and drove the sharp heel of her shoe hard into Charles's shoulder.

Charles let out a muffled groan and crashed to the ground.

"In this house, I make the rules now. I tell you to clean, you clean. Do you think you're still some high-and-mighty head butler? Grace is dead — dropped dead in some lab. Mrs. Astor has lost her mind. This house belongs to us now!"

My fingers tightened around the planter. My knuckles went white.

The dirt pressing into my skin kept the pain sharp enough to hold me together.

Grace is dead? Mrs. Astor has lost her mind?

I had faked my death to take part in a top-secret government project. To cut off all outside contact, I had signed a classified agreement for three months of complete isolation.

Before I left, I had entrusted everything at home to Elias.

I thought he was my fiancé. I thought he was the one person I could trust completely.

I never imagined he would betray me — and not just that. He had teamed up with this mother-daughter pair to swallow my family's fortune and abuse the people I loved.

"What are you staring at?"

Hannah noticed me standing in the corner. Her eyes sharpened.

"New hire? No manners at all. Get over here and lick up the mess this old man made on the floor."

She pointed at the muddy water on the ground, looking at me the way you'd look at a stray dog.

I set down the planter. Slowly, I raised my head and took off my cap.

The hallway was dim, and she hadn't gotten a clear look at my face yet.

I walked toward her, one step at a time, until I was standing right in front of her. I looked at that face — twisted with jealousy and greed — and let a cold smile curl at the corner of my mouth.

"Hannah. Three months, and you've grown a lot bolder. Thicker-skinned, too."

My voice was quiet, but it rang out through the empty side hall like a crack of thunder.

Hannah went rigid. Her eyes went wide, like she'd seen a ghost.

"You… who are you? Your voice…"

She stumbled back a step. Her heel twisted, and she dropped onto the sofa in a heap.

I ignored her and bent down to help Charles up from the floor.

"Grace…" He looked up at me, and the moment his eyes found my face, tears spilled down his weathered cheeks. His lips trembled violently. "You're alive… you're really alive…"

"Charles. I'm back."

I patted his dust-covered shoulder. My eyes were cold as ice.

"I'll take it from here."