Escaping His Obsession

I woke up gasping, the memory of my first life still fresh: my fiancé, Elliott, watching coldly as I drowned, his mind poisoned by a woman named Katarina after an accident gave him amnesia.

This time, I had a plan to escape before his fateful yacht trip. But the doorbell rang. It was Elliott, home early. And holding his arm was Katarina. He claimed he'd had a "small incident" on the yacht, but his eyes were clear. He remembered me. He had no amnesia.

He brought her into our home anyway, moving her into my deceased mother's studio. He ordered my parents' priceless mementos thrown in the trash. When I protested, he threw me against the wall. When Katarina "accidentally" shattered a photo of my family, he slapped me and locked me out of the house in the pouring rain.

In my first life, I could blame his cruelty on his memory loss. I told myself he was a victim, too. But now, he remembered everything—our childhood, our love, our promises. This wasn't a man being manipulated. This was a monster, deliberately choosing to torture me.

When Katarina smashed the last gift from my mother, I finally snapped and attacked her. Elliott's response was swift. He had his guards drag me to a soundproofed room in the basement and strap me to a chair. As the electricity seared through my body, I understood. My second chance wasn't an escape. It was a new level of hell, and this time, my torturer was fully aware of what he was doing.

Chapter 1

The last thing I remembered was the cold water filling my lungs.

Elliott's face, twisted with a rage I didn't recognize, was the final image burned into my mind. He and Katarina stood on the yacht's deck, watching me drown.

Then, I woke up with a gasp, my sheets soaked in cold sweat.

Sunlight streamed through the window of my bedroom. My bedroom. The one I had shared with Elliott.

I was alive.

I was back. Back before the yacht, before the endless torment, before I finally gave up and let the ocean take me.

A wave of relief washed over me, so strong my legs felt weak. This time, I would not make the same mistakes. This time, I would escape.

I had a plan. In my first life, Elliott's yachting accident was the start of everything. He lost his memory and Katarina, the paramedic who "saved" him, sunk her claws into him. She turned him against me, whispering poison into his ear until the man I loved became a monster.

This time, there would be no accident. I would leave him before his trip. I would sell my parents' company, take the money, and disappear.

I would never see Elliott Hickman or Katarina Ward again.

I grabbed my phone, my fingers shaking as I dialed my aunt Jean in New York.

"Jean," I breathed when she answered. "I need your help."

I was about to explain when the doorbell rang. A sharp, insistent sound that made my heart stop.

Elliott wasn't supposed to be here. He was supposed to be at his office.

A cold dread crept up my spine. Something was wrong.

I walked slowly down the grand staircase, my hand gripping the polished wood railing. The housekeeper opened the door.

And there he was.

Elliott. Looking handsome and powerful in his custom suit, his dark hair perfectly styled. But his eyes were cold. Colder than I'd ever seen them, even in my worst memories.

And standing next to him, holding his arm, was Katarina Ward.

She wore a simple white dress, her face a mask of sweet innocence. A look I knew was a complete lie.

My blood ran cold. This wasn't how it happened. He hadn't had his accident yet. He shouldn't know her.

"Ava, honey," Elliott said, his voice smooth but lacking any warmth. "We have a guest."

He stepped inside, pulling Katarina with him. He didn't have amnesia. He remembered everything. He remembered me.

But he brought her here anyway.

"This is Katarina Ward," he announced to the staff, his arm tightening around her. "She saved my life. I had a small incident on the yacht. She's a hero."

My mind went blank. He had the accident. But he didn't lose his memory.