Chapter 1
Grace's POV
Champagne bubbles trembled in the night breeze as I jolted awake.
Salty sea air brushed my face, New York's neon lights twinkling in the distance. My heart raced as I gripped the nearby railing—this was the Ashford family's private yacht, Parker Ashford's 25th birthday party from three years ago.
I'd been reborn.
"Damn..." I muttered, staring at the bubbling champagne. Everything from my past life flooded back—Max Ashford's hypocritical face, Eleanor Ashford's cold calculations, and Parker jumping from that building on my wedding day.
"Miss Smith, are you alright?" a young server asked worriedly.
I looked through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Parker sat in his wheelchair talking with business associates, his profile still handsome in the moonlight, but his eyes held only coldness and self-mockery. This former equestrian champion, the Ashford family's second son, now trapped in a wheelchair, treated like garbage by his own family.
This time, I'll never let you die.
"I'm fine." I handed the server my glass. "Perfect."
"Grace, come here. NOW."
Eleanor Ashford—the family matriarch, the real power—her voice echoed from the lounge with commanding authority. I smoothed my evening dress and entered.
In dim lighting, the 70-year-old woman sat elegantly on the sofa, swirling her wine glass, eyes razor-sharp.
"Sit." Eleanor patted beside her. "We need to talk."
I sat down, playing the naive girl from three years ago. But this time, my heart was ice-cold. I knew exactly what this old witch would say.
"Smart girls know what's good for them." Eleanor's voice was honey-sweet. "Max is quite fond of you. This is a good opportunity, darling."
Good opportunity? Last time I listened to you, I died miserably.
"Yes, ma'am." I lowered my head, fighting the urge to tear off her mask. "I know what's good for me."
Eleanor smiled with satisfaction. "Excellent. After tonight, I'll arrange more time with Max. As for Parker..." She paused, voice dripping disdain. "A cripple has no future in this family. You're too precious to waste on damaged goods."
My fists clenched secretly. This vicious woman would never understand true love.
Damaged goods? Someday you'll learn who's really worthless.
"You're absolutely right." I looked up with a sweet smile. "I'll make the right choice."
Just not the choice you expect.
The birthday party reached its peak.
On the main deck, guests raised champagne, waiting for the birthday speech. Spotlights hit Parker as he sat uncomfortably in his wheelchair.
"Thank you all for coming tonight..." Parker's voice echoed through speakers.
I stood at the back, watching that man. Three years ago tonight, he had no idea he'd be desperate enough to die. My heart felt ready to burst.
Tonight, I would change everything.
"I know I'm not the son this family expected, but I believe as long as there's hope..."
Before Parker could finish, I started pushing through the crowd.
"Excuse me, sorry, excuse me..." I squeezed past layers of wealthy people who stared with confusion, beginning to whisper.
"Grace! What are you doing?" Eleanor shot up from the VIP section, face livid, nearly dropping her glass.
I didn't look back, didn't stop. I reached the front and climbed onto the birthday stage under everyone's shocked stares.
"Grace?" Parker's pupils contracted sharply, wheelchair instinctively rolling back. "You..."
Spotlights blazed down, but I'd never felt more clear-headed. I took a deep breath and shouted with every ounce of strength:
"I'M GOING TO MARRY PARKER ASHFORD!"
Dead silence.
Time-stopping, absolute silence.
I could hear my heartbeat, feel shocked stares piercing me like needles. But I didn't care.
"Because I LOVE him!" My voice boomed across the entire deck. "I love him and ONLY him!"
The crowd exploded.
"Oh my God!"
"Did she just say that?"
"Has she lost her mind?"
"The cripple? Seriously?"
I heard Eleanor's glass shatter, saw Max Ashford—the heir, that seemingly gentle but sinister man—his face instantly contorting. In the VIP corner, reporters had pulled out cameras.
But all my attention was on Parker.
His face was deathly pale, hands gripping wheelchair armrests with white knuckles.
"Miss Smith, have you lost your mind?"
I looked into his eyes—shock, anger, humiliation, deep disbelief. But in the very depths, I caught a flash of... hope.
That was enough.
"I've never been more clear-headed." I bent down, meeting his gaze directly, whispering, "Parker, give me a chance. Let me show you what real love is."
Parker's breathing quickened. He wanted to say something, but words stuck in his throat. I could feel his internal struggle, that painful desire to believe while being too afraid to hope.
"You don't know what you're saying," his voice was barely a whisper. "I'm nothing. I'm broken."
"You're everything to me."
Eleanor stormed onto the stage.
"ENOUGH! Grace, get down RIGHT NOW! You're embarrassing yourself!"
I slowly straightened, turning to face the woman who'd once driven me to despair. I'd hated her for three years, and now a cold smile crossed my lips:
"No, Mrs. Ashford. This time, I won't be anyone's puppet."
The crowd erupted in whispers, phone cameras flashing. Tomorrow's headlines were already written.
The game was starting over.
This time, I would love, fight, and protect on MY terms.
