Chapter 2

Three days after I tear up the contract, Harper announces she's marrying Damien Cross.

I find out through the news, not from family. Not that I expected a phone call.

The headline reads: Cross Empire Heir to Wed Daughter of Richard Ashford. They don't specify which daughter. Catherine probably made sure of that.

I'm sitting in my mother's old apartment — the only property not tied up in the waterfront portfolio. It's small, outdated, smells like dust and old perfume. But it's mine, and nobody knows I'm here.

My phone buzzes. Unknown number.

"Miss Ashford. This is Daniel Kessler, attorney for the Cross family. We need to discuss the waterfront properties."

Fast. They're moving fast.

"There's nothing to discuss. Those properties are in my name."

"The Cross family believes a prior verbal agreement—"

"A verbal agreement isn't a contract, Mr. Kessler. And the last contract your client offered me, I tore in half. Are we done?"

Silence. Then: "Mr. Cross would like to meet in person."

"I'm sure he would. The answer's no."

I hang up.

My hands are shaking. Not from fear — from adrenaline. In my past life, I never said no to anyone. I was so desperate to be wanted that I let them hollow me out.

Never again.

I spend the next week doing what I should have done last time: learning exactly what I own.

Mom's waterfront properties aren't just valuable. They're strategic. Three warehouses, two docking facilities, and a strip of commercial real estate that sits right between Cross territory and the Marchetti family's shipping routes. Whoever controls that stretch controls the flow of goods through the entire south side.

No wonder Damien wanted me. No wonder Catherine pushed so hard.

I hire my own lawyer. A real one, not someone on anyone's payroll. I get the titles locked down, add security clauses, set up an LLC. Every property goes behind so many walls of paperwork that even Damien's lawyers will need months to untangle it.

Then I start making calls.

The Marchetti family picks up on the second ring.

"Miss Ashford?" The voice is cautious. "We weren't expecting to hear from you."

"I have a business proposal. Your shipping routes run past my waterfront properties. Right now you're paying Cross tariffs to move goods through. What if you didn't have to?"

Long pause.

"We're listening."

By the end of the week, I've got a meeting set up with Luca Marchetti himself.

The Marchettis aren't the biggest family in the city, but they're smart, connected, and they hate the Crosses. In my last life, Damien crushed them by controlling those exact shipping lanes — my shipping lanes — after he married me. This time, I'm giving the Marchettis a direct route and cutting Damien out.

The meeting's at a restaurant downtown. Neutral ground.

I arrive early. Order water. Wait.

Luca Marchetti walks in right on time. Mid-thirties, sharp suit, sharper eyes. He sits across from me and studies my face like he's reading a contract.

"You're the Ashford daughter who turned down Damien Cross."

"Word travels fast."

"In this city? Always." He leans back. "So why come to us? The Crosses will make your life hell for this."

"They're already planning to. I'd rather have allies than face them alone."

He considers this. "What's your offer?"

I lay it out. Reduced docking fees, priority access, shared logistics infrastructure. In return, the Marchettis back me publicly and provide security for the properties.

Luca's eyebrows go up. "That's generous."

"It's strategic. I need protection. You need cheaper routes. We both need the Crosses to stop controlling everything."

He's quiet for a moment. Then he extends his hand. "Deal."

We shake on it. He pauses, still holding my hand.

"My brother's going to want to meet you."

"Your brother?"

"Adrian. He runs our operations. He's... particular about who we work with. He'll want to vet you himself."

"Fine. Set it up."

Luca smiles, something unreadable in his expression. "Fair warning — Adrian's not easy to impress."

I smile back. "Neither am I."

When I leave the restaurant, I feel something I haven't felt in two lifetimes.

Control.

But that night, when I get back to the apartment, the door is already open.

I freeze. I locked it. I know I locked it.

I push it open slowly.

Damien Cross is sitting on my mother's couch, legs crossed, smiling like he owns the place.

"Hello, Eliana. We need to talk."