Chapter 1

On the wedding rehearsal day, I discovered our song, "Silent Love," had been replaced by the mistress's choice. The hearing surgery that had pulled me from a silent hell only thrust me into a deeper abyss of betrayal. Since that was how it would be, I would stage the most perfect death before millions of viewers—while he wept at the coffin, the real me would be reborn into European aristocracy, and he would never know this revenge had only just begun.

...

I stood before the altar, my fingertips lightly tracing the lace of my wedding gown. Dylan stood opposite me, his eyes meltingly tender as he signed, "This time tomorrow, you'll be my wife."

I smiled back, a sweet secret nestled in my heart.

Three months prior, I'd secretly undergone hearing restoration surgery, telling no one. Tomorrow, when the wedding march played, I would finally hear our song—"Silent Love"—for the first time.

Dylan had spent a year composing it for me. Through bone conduction headphones, it had been the sole melody in my silent world.

The wedding coordinator hurried over, speaking directly to Dylan: "The music is ready. Final sound check?"

Dylan glanced at me gently and signed, "They're confirming the music."

I nodded, signing back, "As long as it's our song."

Just then, Marissa approached, linking her arm through Dylan's with practiced ease. "Don't worry about the music, darling," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "I've taken care of everything."

To my shock, Dylan didn't pull away. Instead, he allowed her to lean against him, her body pressing close. A sound engineer nearby chuckled, nudging his colleague. "Aren't you worried the bride might get angry?" he joked in a low voice.

His coworker shrugged, unconcerned. "She can't hear us anyway. Besides, this has been going on for months—everyone knows."

My blood ran cold. Months? Everyone knows?

The rehearsal began. On my father's arm, I kept my eyes fixed on Dylan. As planned, when the music started, he was to sign, "Listen, our song."

But when his hands rose, they formed: "This song..."

His movements halted. As the music swelled—an unfamiliar pop tune with a frivolous beat—I saw Marissa smirk triumphantly from the front row.

I stopped mid-aisle, confused. Dylan's face flashed with something—guilt?—but he made no move to correct the situation. Instead, he simply shook his head and walked back to me, the gentle mask returning as he signed, "Just a small technical issue. Nothing to worry about."

My heart splintered. He knew what that song meant, yet he did nothing.

After the rehearsal, I signed to Dylan that I needed a moment alone. In the dressing room, leaning against the door, I heard the devastating sound of my world cracking apart. "Silent Love" wasn't just a song. It was our secret melody, ours alone—or so I'd thought.

I took out my phone, found the encrypted contact. My finger hovered over the call button.

"Maybe there's an explanation..." I tried desperately to believe.

But as I stepped out, I saw them—Marissa had Dylan pinned against the wall, her hands roaming over his chest as she whispered in his ear. Dylan's eyes were closed, his hands resting on her hips in a way that spoke of long-established intimacy.

Two stagehands passed by, one shaking his head with a laugh. "They're really going at it today. Poor girl has no idea."

The foundation of my world crumbled to dust in that instant. This wasn't a one-time mistake—it was a pattern everyone knew about but me.

I quietly shut the door and made the call.

"Identity Reset Agency? This is Isla Rowen," my voice was eerily calm. "Initiate the 'Rebirth Protocol.'"

"Confirm initiation? This will permanently erase your current identity."

I looked at my engagement ring, remembering Dylan's vow written in my palm: "This life, I listen only for you."

"Confirmed," I said. "Isla Rowen dies tomorrow."

Just then, the light above the door flashed—Dylan's special system for me since I couldn't hear knocks.

I opened the door. Dylan stood there, signing, "Are you okay, darling? There were some technical issues today, but everything's fixed now."

I wiped the tears from my cheeks and took a deep, steadying breath. Even now, to my face, he lied so effortlessly.

In that case, at the wedding, everyone would witness the tragic "accidental" death of the deaf bride.

And the real me would be reborn.