Chapter 1

• The End Before the Beginning
• Coughing up blood, Moiraine Sokolov fell to her knees. So this was how it would end? A queen brought to ruin—not by enemies, but by those she trusted most. A warrior, broken. A ruler, betrayed.
• She managed a bitter smile as her blurred vision focused on the man cradling her in his arms. Dylan Luave. Even now, injured and bleeding, he held her like she was the only thing that mattered. She had never believed anyone could love her without condition—until him.
• With a shaky breath, she whispered, “I’m sorry… I couldn’t give you a better life. If I ever had the chance… I would protect you with all that I am. I’m so sorry I let you down.”
• Dylan shook his head fiercely, denial etched into every trembling line of his face. “No, don’t say that. This isn’t your fault. We’re in this together. Please… just hold on.”
• But it was too late.
• With her final breath, she forced out the words she had never dared to say. “I love you, Dylan Luave.”
• His cry tore through the burning silence. “No—!”
• And then, the world gave way to flames.
• The warehouse exploded around them, fire devouring everything in its path. But in the heart of the inferno, wrapped in each other’s arms, Moiraine’s soul clung to one desperate prayer:
• Give me another chance. Just one more chance to make it right.
• “Moiraine! Wake up already!”
• Dihanna's voice rang out as she tugged at the blankets, frowning down at the sleepy figure curled in silk sheets. “I know you’re on holiday, but that doesn’t mean you get to sleep all day!”
• A low groan escaped Moiraine’s lips as she stirred. Her head ached, her body felt too light—too whole. Slowly, she blinked open her eyes, scanning her surroundings.
• White curtains. Familiar walls. Soft morning light spilling in from the window.
• Where… was she?
• Was this heaven?
• Confused, Moiraine sat up slowly, trying to make sense of the vividness around her. Her fingers moved without thinking, reaching to pinch the skin on her arm.
• “Ouch,” she hissed.
• Dihanna narrowed her eyes. “Why the hell did you just pinch yourself?”
• Moiraine didn’t answer. Her gaze had landed on the phone by the bedside. The date flashed on the screen—four years ago. The weekend before her godfather was to introduce her to Dylan Luave.
• No way... I’m alive?
• “Hello? Earth to Moiraine?” Dihanna waved her hand in front of her face, snapping her fingers. “You’ve been zoning out since you opened your eyes. What’s going on with you this morning?”
• Moiraine forced a smile. “I’m fine,” she replied, her voice too smooth, too hollow.
• Fine? She was anything but fine. The woman standing in front of her—her best friend—was the same one who had betrayed her, stabbed her in the back when she needed her most. And Moiraine still didn’t know why. What had she done to deserve that level of betrayal?
• She shoved the thought away.
• “I’m good, Dihanna,” she said, throwing the covers off and rising from the bed. “What’s the plan for the day?”
• Her long white hair cascaded in messy waves as she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She scowled. She’d always hated it. If it weren’t for her godfather’s command never to cut it, she would’ve chopped it off years ago.
• He was the only one who could ever command her—and the only one she’d ever let.
• Her reflection blurred for a second as the memory hit her like a wave: two years from now, he’d die.
• Not this time. Her fists clenched at her sides. Not again.
• She turned with a quiet resolve and headed for the shower, her steps already regaining the grace of the Queen she was. This wasn’t just a second chance—it was war.
• She remembered now—this vacation had been her brief retreat. She’d just crushed one of the underground families trying to overstep their bounds, and this private island was her reward. Peace. Isolation. And later today, Stephen would arrive—her boyfriend.
• The man who would soon get down on one knee and offer her the world with a ring... and a lie.
• Turning back to Dihanna, Moiraine offered a composed smile. “I’m all good now. I’ll take a bath, and then we can go over today’s plans.”
• Dihanna nodded. “Sure thing. I’ll be waiting outside.”
• A short while later, Moiraine descended the grand staircase with practiced grace. Her long white hair had been brushed to a soft shimmer, and the deep V-neckline of her sleek black dress revealed just enough to command attention—but never invite it. The dress clung to her form like shadows to the night, slitted at the side to ease her stride. She didn’t just walk—she glided.
• “Dihanna,” she called lightly, “what’s on my agenda for today? I feel... light.” Her lips curled into a wicked grin.
• Dihanna glanced up from her phone, momentarily distracted by how stunning and dangerous Moiraine looked—like a viper cloaked in silk. “Well, you’re scheduled to meet with the remnants of the Rufus family. After their pathetic attempt to challenge you, it’s a miracle you even let their leader live.”
• Moiraine’s expression turned colder. “Miracle, or mistake... we’ll find out.”
• She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Let’s not waste a proper execution. Invite them to lunch. It’ll be more... entertaining.”
• At the dining table, Moiraine sat at the head—her rightful throne. Her fingers lazily swirled the red wine in her glass, the liquid catching the light like blood.
• A few moments later, Dihanna entered with two guards dragging in three trembling guests—two men and a woman. Terror was etched into their faces, their bodies barely holding upright.
• Moiraine smiled, unbothered. “Oh, don’t be shy,” she purred. “Sit.”
• They hesitated.
• She tilted her head.
• The guards forced them down into the seats.
• “Let’s show some manners, gentlemen,” she said smoothly, motioning for the guards to stand back.
• The moment they sat, the begging began.
• “Please, Lady M,” one man stammered, pressing his palms together. “For old times’ sake—please—spare us.”
• Moiraine sipped her wine slowly, letting their fear stretch into silence. The Sokolov name had always been synonymous with vengeance. The underground knew—betrayal meant blood.
• She set her glass down and picked up the knife beside her plate, gently slicing through her steak as if she hadn’t a care in the world.
• “I wonder,” she murmured, her voice calm, “what exactly were you thinking? Attempting to overthrow me?” She didn’t look up. “Did you think I’d forgotten what it means to rule? Or perhaps that I’ve grown soft?”
• Without warning, she flung the knife across the table. It hit one of the men squarely below his chest—a clean shot. A little higher, and he’d be dead.
• The woman screamed. Moiraine raised an eyebrow.
• “Oh, Lady Rufus... Did I upset you?” she asked, feigning concern as she took another sip. “My dear, considering you conspired against me, what did you expect—tea and roses?”
• She leaned forward slightly, her smile sharp and sadistic. “You’re a lady. Surely you know what it takes to hold power. I am what it takes.”
• For nearly half an hour, she toyed with them—cutting through their dignity, their defenses, and their pride. It was less an interrogation, more a performance of dominance. By the time she was finished, they were bleeding, shaking, barely clinging to consciousness.
• She only got one name.
• A name that meant almost nothing.
• Whoever was pulling the strings was just as cautious as in her previous life—too smart, too invisible. Even back then, she’d never uncovered their identity.
• The frustration returned like a migraine behind her eyes.
• Again... so close, and yet so blind.
• But this time, she wasn’t going to fail.
• "Get them out of my sight," Moiraine snapped, her voice laced with ice and venom.
• The guards moved to obey—until she raised a single finger, halting them mid-step.
• "And," she added smoothly, "send a piece of their fingers to every household under our network. A little reminder of what happens to traitors... and what it means to cross the Sokolov family."
• Her words rang like a death sentence, cold and deliberate. The atmosphere in the dining hall dropped ten degrees.
• Even the guards shivered.
• This—this—was the side of Lady M no one ever wanted to see. The true Queen of the Underground. Ruthless. Unforgiving. Absolute.
• In a daze, Dihanna escorted the broken survivors outside, her hands trembling ever so slightly. She had seen this side of Moiraine before—and yet, it never failed to chill her to the bone.
• Moiraine, unbothered, calmly returned to her seat. She picked up her fork with a regal flick of her wrist, resuming her meal as though nothing had happened.
• Then, casually, she glanced up. “Dihanna, where are you going? Come join me. It’s no fun eating alone.”
• Startled, Dihanna paused in the doorway, then nodded. “Of course,” she said quietly, returning to the table and sitting across from her.
• “Besides,” Moiraine added, dabbing at her lips with a napkin, “you said I have nothing else scheduled for today... except a little date with Stephen, right?”
• Dihanna nodded again. “Yes. He’s due to arrive this evening.”
• Moiraine smiled. A soft, secretive smile. One that didn’t reach her abyss-black eyes.
• “Perfect,” she murmured.
• She already knew how this would end.
• But this time, she was ready.