Chapter 1

Andrea's POV

I woke up in the hospital with my legs in plaster, my gymnastics dreams completely shattered.

Before I could even process the excruciating pain, my fiancé’s voice broke the silence.

"Andrea, baby," Tyler whispered, gently stroking my hand. "If you just forgive Savannah for this little accident, we can still get married right after graduation."

Forgive her?

The memories hit me like a freight train. The sabotaged equipment. My ruined knees. My eventual suicide in my past life while they celebrated my downfall.

I wasn't just waking up from surgery. I was waking up from my past life.

Fake, theatrical sobbing echoed from the hallway.

Savannah dropped to her knees right beside my hospital bed.

"I’m so sorry, Andrea! I just transferred here... I didn’t know the uneven bars were loose..."

She knew exactly what she was doing.

Heavy footsteps thundered into the room. It was Ryan. My own brother.

But he didn’t run to check on me. He stepped directly in front of Savannah, shielding her.

"Andrea! Savannah's mom just died!" Ryan barked, his face twisted with anger. "Are you really going to press charges and ruin the Rodriguez family name over an accident?"

I stared at the three of them.

I watched my brother’s eyes dart nervously to my fiancé.

I watched Tyler’s hand brush against Ryan’s lower back. Just a fraction of a second too long. The secret looks they exchanged when they thought I wasn't watching.

Suddenly, the ultimate betrayal of my past life made perfect, sickening sense.

Tyler didn't love Savannah. He loved my brother.

And they were using this "poor orphan" girl to destroy the only person standing in their way: Me.

"Take your hands off me, Tyler." My voice came out ice-cold.

I snatched my hand back like he was diseased.

His puppy-dog eyes widened in shock. "Andrea, what’s gotten into you?"

I pulled out my phone and opened my banking app.

"Let’s talk numbers, Tyler."

"Numbers?" Tyler scoffed. "We’ve been together since we were eight! We’re engaged!"

"Training fees for your football career. Equipment. Living expenses when your parents cut you off." I scrolled down the screen, my voice echoing in the sterile room. "Medical bills when you tore your ACL."

I shoved the glowing screen right into his face.

"1.2 million dollars. With interest."

The color drained from Tyler’s face. Savannah's fake crying instantly stopped. Ryan stood frozen.

"You think because we're childhood sweethearts I'm your personal ATM?" I sneered.

Two hours later, I didn't let Tyler push my wheelchair.

I called Miguel, a 6'4" linebacker from my engineering class who actually gave a damn, to wheel me down to the crowded hospital lobby.

Tyler and Ryan chased after me, panic written all over their faces.

"Andrea, stop! People are watching!" Tyler hissed, grabbing the handle of my wheelchair.

"Good. Let them watch."

I raised my voice so every nurse, patient, and doctor in the lobby could hear.

"Tyler Brooks, we are officially done. The wedding is off."

The entire lobby went dead silent. Cell phones started recording.

Tyler's face went from red to white to green. "Andrea, you can't be serious! We have history!"

"Yeah, we do. And it's exactly that—history."

I looked him dead in the eye, smiling as the crowd gasped.

"You can play house with my brother and his pet psycho all you want. But I expect my 1.2 million dollars back by Friday. Or I’m destroying your NFL draft."

I signaled Miguel to push me toward the automatic sliding doors, leaving them standing there like pathetic jokes.

Round two, motherf*ckers.

And this time, I’m not the one who dies.