Chapter 1

Gloria Ramirez fell hard for her dad's friend, Elijah Phillips— 12 years older than her, a man old enough to be her father. He'd commanded every room he walked into, his designer suits and athletic build drawing all eyes to him. She still remembered how he'd flashed that perfect smile, messed up her hair playfully, and gifted her that stunning evening gown.

At twenty, her world imploded. Someone slipped aphrodisiacs into his drink at a gala, and she'd made a choice that would haunt her—wearing that same gown, she offered herself as his salvation, her innocence lost in one reckless night.

The next morning, Jenna Wright—his childhood sweetheart—burst into the room to find them half-naked in bed, clothes scattered across the floor, the evidence of their night together unmistakable. Her face drained of color as she stumbled backward. She fled the mansion in tears, her Mercedes swerving wildly on the driveway. Before anyone could stop her, a truck with failed brakes plowed into her car at full speed. The impact was devastating—Jenna died instantly, her body still warm when the paramedics arrived.

After that, Elijah became someone else entirely. He handled Jenna's funeral like a business meeting, married Gloria like signing a contract, and treated their marriage bed like a chore. When she got pregnant, he'd coldly insist they weren't ready, dragging her to clinic after clinic.

During her eighteenth abortion, Gloria lay on the operating table, blood soaking through the sheets as the doctors rushed around her. Her vision blurred as she heard the surgeon urgently calling Elijah. She was hemorrhaging badly, worse than any of the previous times.

His response through the speakerphone froze everyone in the room: "Dead yet? Don't bother me until she is."

In that moment, through the haze of blood loss and fading consciousness, Gloria finally understood the brutal truth—Elijah Phillips didn't just hate her, he wanted her dead. He despised her for offering herself as his "cure" that night when he was drugged, loathed her for inadvertently causing Jenna's death.

As Gloria felt her life draining away on that cold operating table, regret consumed every fiber of her being.

Then, impossibly, her eyes snapped open. She was back at the gala, on the night that had sealed all their fates.

There he was—the untouchable Elijah Phillips, sprawled across the bed, shirt half-undone, eyes glazed from the aphrodisiacs coursing through his system.

Her stomach twisted into knots.

Last time, seeing him like this had made her throw caution to the wind, forgetting he was her father's friend, ignoring their age gap, recklessly offering herself as his cure. She'd learned too late that Elijah and Jenna had been in love, their story cut short by her interference.

Maybe the universe had given her a do-over. This time, she had one mission—get Elijah and Jenna together.

She grabbed her phone and called Jenna, who showed up in minutes, looking confused and wary.

"Look, I know you two love each other," Gloria said, gripping Jenna's wrist. "You've just never found the right moment to admit it. He needs you right now—this is your chance."

"Gloria, what the hell are you playing at?" Jenna demanded. "Everyone knows you're obsessed with Elijah. He's drugged up on aphrodisiacs right now—you could have him wrapped around your finger. Instead, you're calling me to come 'save' him?"

Gloria let out a bitter laugh. Yeah, her pursuit of Elijah had been the talk of the town. She'd convinced herself that enough determination could overcome any obstacle. Now she knew better—without love, all the effort in the world just led to misery.

"I'm done," she said softly. "Completely done."

A muffled groan came from behind the door.

"Time's running out," Gloria urged. "If you don't go in now, you'll miss your shot."

Jenna glanced at the bedroom, biting her lip. Finally, she squared her shoulders. "Then why are you still hanging around? Want to listen to us having sex all night?"

Gloria flinched, then stepped aside. As Jenna reached for the door, Gloria pulled it shut behind her.

The sounds of passion that followed shattered her heart piece by piece. She slid down the wall, tears streaming silently. Yet underneath the pain, there was relief. She'd changed the story this time.

Gloria stumbled to her feet, wiping her face as she fled to her room. That night, while their lovemaking echoed through the walls, sleep never came.

At dawn, her father called from London.

"Darling, have you reconsidered moving to England? The London office is doing brilliantly, and there's a place for you here."

Years ago, when her father had expanded Phillips Industries into the UK market, he'd trusted Elijah to look after her. She'd stayed in the States even after the London operation stabilized, rejecting her father's numerous offers—all because of her foolish heart.

Now, with Elijah and Jenna where they belonged, it was time to start fresh across the Atlantic.

Taking a shaky breath, she said, "Yes, Dad. I want to come to London."

His voice brightened instantly. "Finally seeing sense! I've been telling you forever that Elijah's not the one. It's okay to want romance, but you need the right guy. Actually, I might have someone in mind—he's your age, successful. Just come out here, settle into Mayfair, see what else is out there."

Fresh tears welled up in her already puffy eyes. He'd given her the same speech in her past life, but she'd been too stubborn to listen, wasting years she couldn't get back.

Digging her nails into her palm, she forced cheerfulness into her voice. "Whatever you think is best, Dad. I'll start the visa paperwork today."

Chapter 2

Gloria hung up the phone, quickly wiped her tears away, and grabbed her passport. The moment she opened her door, she walked straight into Elijah.

Her eyes instantly locked onto the trail of hickeys down his neck. Even though she'd mentally prepared herself for what Elijah and Jenna had done, she still had to look away.

He caught her subtle flinch and noticed her puffy eyes. His voice turned ice-cold. "Let's get one thing straight, Gloria. Jenna and I are together now, whether you like it or not."

"I'm going to marry her. As long as you're staying here, you need to show her respect. Cut out all that schoolgirl crush bullshit from before."

Gloria kept her eyes down. "I understand... Mr. Phillips."

The formal address caught him off guard. He studied her face intently, trying to remember the last time she'd called him that.

When she'd first moved in, she'd always used "Mr. Phillips" so properly. Then, after falling for him, she'd insisted on just "Elijah," refusing any hint of formality between them.

He started to say something, but Jenna's voice cut through the tension.

"Babe, my stuff's here. Which room should I take?"

Elijah spun around, pulling Jenna into his arms. "You always complain about needing natural light. Gloria's room faces south—best sunlight in the house. She can move to the guest room. The master suite's yours."

A smug smile played at Jenna's lips, though her voice dripped fake concern. "Oh, I couldn't... I mean, I'm the newcomer here. Maybe I should take the guest room instead?"

She made a show of heading downstairs but squealed when Elijah pulled her back against his chest. "Baby, you're going to be my wife—the lady of this house. No way you're staying in the guest room."

"But Gloria's had that room forever. Won't it be weird for her?"

Elijah shot Gloria a cold look. "She'll deal with it. She needs to accept that I'm getting married, this house has a new mistress, and she's just a houseguest."

Gloria's eyelashes fluttered as she swallowed hard, forcing out a bitter smile.

Just a houseguest...

Well, he wasn't wrong. That's exactly what she was.

She plastered on a fake smile. "I'll start packing for the guest room now."

It didn't matter anyway. Soon she'd be back with her dad, never setting foot in this place again. This would be Elijah and Jenna's perfect little love nest.

Over the next few days, Gloria practically lived at the embassy handling her visa paperwork, doing anything to avoid running into Elijah. But she couldn't escape witnessing his obsession with Jenna.

When Jenna got picky about food, he hired Michelin-starred chefs to cook for her.

When Jenna felt under the weather, he ghosted billion-dollar meetings to play nurse.

If Jenna so much as glanced at a Cartier window, the jewelry would appear in her hands within the hour.

Gloria watched it all without a word.

While waiting for her immigration papers to clear, she started packing her life away. After sorting through her regular stuff, she gathered all her old love letters to Elijah and her sketchbooks full of his face into a box, heading out to trash them.

At the door, she literally bumped into Elijah, coming back with Jenna's favorite macarons from that fancy patisserie she loved.

Gloria tried to brush past him like he was invisible.

His hand shot out, grabbing her wrist hard enough to hurt.

"Been dodging me, haven't you?"

Chapter 3

"I'm not avoiding you," Gloria said, trying to keep her voice steady.

Elijah stepped into her personal space, his designer cologne overwhelming her senses. "Bullshit. You're practically running a marathon to dodge me every day. Won't even look at me when we pass in the hallway. What else would you call that?"

"Is it because of me and Jenna? That's it, isn't it?"

"God, no!" Gloria took a step back. "Mr. Phillips, I'm actually happy for you both. Seriously. I've finally gotten the message—you'll never feel that way about me. I'm done."

His expression darkened. The idea of Gloria not pining after him seemed to physically offend him.

"Right. When I shot down your confession, you wouldn't quit. When I rejected your endless DMs and gifts, you kept pushing. So what's this new angle? Playing it cool to get my attention?"

He watched her face like a hawk, catching her startled expression. That was all the confirmation he needed.

Moving closer, his voice went arctic as he spotted the box in her arms. "If you're so 'over me,' what's with all these love letters? These sketches? After stalking me for years, you expect me to buy that you just magically got over it?"

"You don't see how pathetic this looks?"

Gloria met his gaze. Of course it sounded ridiculous—she'd been the girl who cried wolf too many times. But this time was different.

"Look, I get it. I was crazy about you, Mr. Phillips. But you'll never love me back, so I'm moving on. For real this time."

To prove her point, she dumped the box's contents at his feet. Then, methodically, she shredded every letter and sketch into confetti.

Through the falling pieces, she noticed his expression growing darker rather than relieved. Before she could process this, his voice cut like ice.

"Keep playing your little games, Gloria. But get this through your head—Jenna is the only one who matters to me. Period."

They didn't speak after that. Gloria had nothing left to say, and Elijah, convinced she was manipulating him, gave her the cold shoulder.

The tension peaked at the Phillips family dinner. Once upon a time, these gatherings had been Gloria's show, with the family doting on her until Elijah had to rescue her from the attention overload.

Now? It was the Jenna show. Obviously—she was the future Mrs. Phillips. Gloria? Just the awkward houseguest who'd overstayed her welcome. Everyone got the memo about the new pecking order.

In one brutal morning, Gloria watched the family roll out the red carpet for Jenna. Mrs. Phillips immediately clasped the family's priceless vintage Cartier bracelet around Jenna's wrist—a piece Gloria had never even glimpsed in her previous life.

Over dinner, wedding plans dominated the conversation. By dessert, they'd locked down a date at some exclusive venue.

As Gloria tried to slip out with the others, Mrs. Phillips cornered her for a "quick chat."

The moment her study door closed, the woman didn't bother with pleasantries: "Gloria, sweetie, time to back off."

"Elijah and Jenna are engaged now. Hanging around here just makes you look desperate. What exactly are you hoping to achieve?"

The contempt in Mrs. Phillips's voice made Gloria's chest tight. This woman had once treated her like a daughter—until Gloria's confession turned her into persona non grata. After that, she became the family scandal, the gold-digger, the social climber...

Gloria dug her nails into her palm. "Don't worry. I'm out of here."

She pulled out her immigration paperwork. "Just talked to Dad about moving to London. He's lined up some eligible bachelor for me there. I won't be around to 'embarrass' your son anymore."

Mrs. Phillips scrutinized the documents like a hawk before her ice queen facade cracked slightly. "See that you follow through."

After Mrs. Phillips clicked away in her Louboutins, Gloria exhaled, stuffing the papers back into her Prada tote. As she stood to leave, she found Elijah lounging in the doorway.

"Running away from someone?"

Gloria's brain short-circuited. She had no idea how much he'd overheard, but her gut screamed not to mention London.

"No one. You're hearing things."

She tried to squeeze past him, but his words froze her mid-step.

"Look, you don't have to flee the country. After the wedding, stay. Your dad's my oldest friend—I'll take care of you. Forever."

Gloria's jaw dropped. Behind Elijah, Jenna, who'd come looking for her fiancé, went absolutely still.

Catching Jenna's murderous glare, Gloria did the only thing she could—she ran.