The Empress's Second Chance

The Empress's Second Chance

Sutton Horsley

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The imperial selection, a grand affair that could secure a family' s fortune, was upon us. But in the Thompson household, excitement was replaced by a chilling demand. My mother, Mrs. Thompson, gripped my hands, her face a mask of strained concern. "Sarah, you have to do this for us. For the family." She wanted me to go to the selection in my cousin Emily' s place, "fail gracefully," and return home a nobody. I looked at her, her words a haunting echo from a life I' d already lived. The last time, I believed her. I failed as instructed, but nobody ever came for me. I spent three years as a low-ranking intern, enduring humiliation and grueling labor, clinging to the promise of my family. When I finally scraped enough money to return, I found red lanterns and festive decorations. My cousin, Emily, was marrying my fiancé. My mother saw me at the gate, tattered and starved. "What are you doing here?" she spat. "You' re an embarrassment. Go away." The gates slammed shut, laughter from inside filling my ears as I collapsed in the snow, my life bleeding away. Then, I woke up. Back in my room, my mother' s voice a poisonous murmur. "Sarah, you have to do this for us." A bitter laugh almost escaped. I was back, at the very moment of my ruin. But this time, things would be different. I pulled my hands from her grasp, a cold resolve settling in my heart. "I will go. But I will go as Sarah Thompson. And I will not fail."

Introduction

The imperial selection, a grand affair that could secure a family' s fortune, was upon us.

But in the Thompson household, excitement was replaced by a chilling demand.

My mother, Mrs. Thompson, gripped my hands, her face a mask of strained concern.

"Sarah, you have to do this for us. For the family."

She wanted me to go to the selection in my cousin Emily' s place, "fail gracefully," and return home a nobody.

I looked at her, her words a haunting echo from a life I' d already lived.

The last time, I believed her.

I failed as instructed, but nobody ever came for me.

I spent three years as a low-ranking intern, enduring humiliation and grueling labor, clinging to the promise of my family.

When I finally scraped enough money to return, I found red lanterns and festive decorations.

My cousin, Emily, was marrying my fiancé.

My mother saw me at the gate, tattered and starved.

"What are you doing here?" she spat. "You' re an embarrassment. Go away."

The gates slammed shut, laughter from inside filling my ears as I collapsed in the snow, my life bleeding away.

Then, I woke up.

Back in my room, my mother' s voice a poisonous murmur.

"Sarah, you have to do this for us."

A bitter laugh almost escaped.

I was back, at the very moment of my ruin.

But this time, things would be different.

I pulled my hands from her grasp, a cold resolve settling in my heart.

"I will go. But I will go as Sarah Thompson. And I will not fail."

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I Married My Ex-Fiancé's Dangerous Uncle

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I stood at the altar in a fifty-thousand-dollar custom lace gown, waiting to marry the boy I had loved since I was five. But Silas didn't say "I do." He answered a phone call, turned pale, and bolted toward the exit as if the gates of hell had opened, leaving me to face five hundred of New York's most dangerous criminals alone. He left me for a waitress named Lola. The humiliation was suffocating. The elite of the Five Families looked at me with pity, a Genovese princess rejected for trash. When Silas finally returned, he didn't apologize. He showed up with hickeys on his neck, clinging to Lola, and had the audacity to suggest I become his mistress. He even demanded I hand over my dowry—millions in weapons and cash—so he could fund their lifestyle and "redecorate" with her. He thought I was still the innocent girl who would beg for his scraps. He didn't realize that in the moment he ran, a shadow had stepped forward to fill the void. Dante Moretti. The Don. Silas's uncle. The most feared man in the city looked at me with dark, predatory eyes and offered me a choice: be a victim, or be a Queen. "Since you are to marry a Moretti," Dante said, extending his scarred hand, "why not marry the head of the table?" I looked at the door where Silas had disappeared, then at the Reaper standing before me. "I do," I whispered. Silas thought he had ruined my life, but he only cleared the way for me to marry the monster who would burn the world down for me.

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