Making Her Mrs Billionaire

The familiar scent of my Aunt Carol' s pot roast once symbolized family, now it was the smell of my personal hell.

My fiancé, Michael, sat beside me, urging me to eat, while my cousin Bethany feigned illness, subtly pressuring me to give up my Star-Tech internship for her.

In my first life, I capitulated, sacrificing my hard-earned opportunity because Bethany "wanted" it, swayed by her theatrics and my family' s relentless pressure.

That decision was the beginning of the end, leading to a life of quiet desperation, watching my dreams handed to my manipulative cousin while I was praised for my "understanding."

It ended in a hospital bed, alone, broken, and dying, while Michael and Bethany planned their wedding.

The cold, sterile memory of that flatlining heart monitor brought a wave of blinding nausea.

But this time, it was different.

This wasn' t a memory; it was a horrifying replay.