Chapter 3

At two-thirty that afternoon, I changed into my best clothes.

The most expensive piece in my closet was a wool trench coat I had splurged on last winter for four hundred dollars.

When Carter found out, he lectured me for an hour about wasting money.

I threw the coat on, put on light makeup, and hailed a cab to Julian’s law firm.

His office was downtown, boasting floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the financial district.

Julian was a few years older than me, wore wire-rimmed glasses, and carried a calm, steady aura that instantly made you feel grounded.

He slid a manila folder across the desk. "Look it over. I'll walk you through anything that needs clarification."

I flipped open the document, reading line by line.

The gist was simple: Carter voluntarily surrendered all personal and business assets—including company shares, real estate, and bank accounts—solely to Chloe.

The agreement would take effect on our wedding day, legally binding the moment he signed.

Staring at the words "voluntarily surrendered," I looked up. "What if he refuses to sign voluntarily?"

Julian adjusted his glasses. "Then you need leverage that leaves him no choice."

"What kind of leverage?"

"Concrete proof of infidelity."

I fell silent.

I knew he was cheating; his post laid it all out.

But an anonymous post wouldn't hold up in court. He could easily claim I fabricated it.

I needed something far more damaging.

"I can hire an investigator," Julian offered. "But that takes time."

"We don't have time. The wedding is in two days."

Julian pondered for a moment. "Then let's shift angles. You hold fifty percent of the voting equity. You have every legal right to audit the corporate books. If there are fraudulent transfers, he’ll fear a lawsuit far more than you do."

The lightbulb went off.

Only Carter knew how many millions he had skimmed from our business over the years.

There had to be a paper trail. The moment I demanded a formal audit, he’d be forced to open the ledgers.

He wouldn't dare.

"I’ll hold onto the agreement," I said, slipping the folder into my bag. "Wait for my signal."

Leaving the firm, I stood by the curb waiting for a ride.

My phone rang. It was Zoey.

"Chloe! I just landed at the terminal! Get your butt over here and pick me up!"

Zoey was still the same loud, fiery hurricane she had always been.

I flagged a cab and headed straight to the airport.

When I spotted her, she was dragging a massive suitcase, holding two bags of local snacks from back home.

The second she saw me, she barreled forward and wrapped me in a bone-crushing hug. "Why are you so skinny?! Is that deadbeat starving you?!"

I managed a soft smile. "No, just busy with wedding prep."

"Busy with what? Have you sent out the invitations yet? How many guests are coming?"

I froze.

Invitations. I hadn't sent a single one.

Not because I forgot, but because in my last life, Carter insisted he would take care of the guest list.

In the end, he invited nobody from my side. The room was packed with his business associates and friends; Zoey was the only person there for me.

Throughout the entire ceremony, I had felt like an intruder.

"I haven't sent them yet," I admitted.

Zoey’s eyes widened. "The wedding is literally tomorrow! And you haven't sent invitations?!"

"Don't worry about it," I said, taking her suitcase. "Let’s get back to the apartment first."

In the back of the cab, Zoey chattered non-stop about her new job and saving up for a condo down payment.

Listening to her, my chest tightened.

In my previous life, Zoey had cried at my wedding.

Not tears of joy, but tears of pure fury at how I was being treated.

She had grabbed my hand and said, "Chloe, you deserve so much better than this."

And I had replied, "Carter loves me."

She went silent.

After my death, I often wondered if Zoey spent the rest of her life regretting that she didn't drag me away that day.