“I exhausted my life force and my mother's vast fortune to complete the sacred Weaving ritual with my husband, Auguste. But as I lay dying in a freezing room, reduced to skin and bones, I heard cheerful laughter outside. Dragging myself to the window, I saw Auguste holding his mistress, Blaire, and tossing their young son into the air. He brushed the snow off her shoulder with a tenderness he had never once shown me. As my soul finally left my ruined body, I hovered near them and heard Blaire ask when she could be the true mistress of the manor. Auguste held her close and promised that once I was out of the way, she would be his one and only soulmate. He planned to use my family's immense wealth and my stolen life to build a perfect future for his secret family. I had given him my heritage, my love, and my very breath, only to be treated as a disposable stepping stone. Why did my absolute devotion earn me nothing but cruel betrayal and a lonely, agonizing death? My intense hatred tore through the fabric of time. Opening my eyes again, I was twenty years old, a week before our Weaving ceremony. I calmly took off my family signet ring and handed it to my maid. "Tell the steward to freeze all funds for the Sullivan family immediately. Not a single coin is to be moved."”