The Fiancée Who Died Twice

From the back cover

The typical bright Texas morning was promising, another day of booming business for Hayes Corp, my family's oil and real estate empire.

My assistant's tight voice cut through the calm: "Mr. Hayes, there's... news. About Ms. Moreau."

Isabelle "Izzy" Moreau, my fiancée, was supposedly lost at sea in a tragic boating accident off the coast of Maine.

In my previous life, that phone call had shattered my world; I spent fifty years as a hollow shell, honoring her memory while her supposed grieving friends drained my company with their sob stories.

But then, at eighty, frail and tired, I found her alive and thriving at our "special place" in the Caribbean, dripping in jewels, laughing on the arm of Liam Vance, my former head of security.

Their children, their grandchildren, a grotesque dynasty built on my stolen life and stolen fortune.

The sheer, monumental betrayal stopped my heart, killing me on the spot.

Then I jolted awake, here, now, back on this exact Tuesday morning, the sun shining, the phone poised to deliver the same lie.

Only this time, the news didn't devastate me; it filled me with a cold, clear resolve.

I already knew. I had lived this day before, and I was reborn with a singular purpose.

The game was officially on, and this time, I would win.