Eve Of A Thousand Wakes

006 Second Chance

Ashley jolted awake, gasping, her heart slamming against her ribs. A second ago she'd been cold—dying cold, the kind that gets into your bones and stays. Now she was warm. Flushed. Alive.

As her eyes adjusted to the light, Ashley realized, with mounting confusion, that she was sitting on a toilet, trousers and panties around her ankles. What the hell?

Did she fall asleep while taking a leak? That would be ridiculous. What had just happened to her was too real to have been a nightmare!

Her own family had killed her. Scarlet. Mary. The monsters who'd worn her family's faces.

She pulled up her clothes, flushed the toilet, and left the cubicle, then realized she was in the executive washroom of the Grayson building. Jake's company? How? Why?

"I'll splash some water on my face," Ashley told herself. "That should help me get my bearings."

Ashley crossed to one of the luxurious Whitehaus basins and looked into the mirror—and nearly lost her footing. It wasn't possible.

She looked almost a year younger. The dark circles, the gauntness, the dull, dehydrated skin—gone, every trace of it.

Ashley was beautiful again, fully, completely, the way she'd been before he'd ground her down to nothing. She ran her hands over her own face, her arms, half-expecting her fingers to pass through smoke.

Ashley pinched herself, and it hurt exactly the way it should. What the hell was going on?

"My phone!" She checked her smartphone at once. Her eyes went straight to the date. It was a year in the past!

[5th May 2026]

Ashley racked her brain to place the date. When was this exactly? "Umm… Wait! It's a day before I got engaged to Jake!"

A giggle escaped her—disbelieving, half-hysterical. It built into laughter she couldn't stop, the kind that scrapes right up against the edge of tears.

"My God, what the hell is this sorcery? Have I gone crazy?"

"Ash, are you all right?" a man's voice called, interrupting her outburst. Who was it? Her memories of this time were a bit cloudy. Was someone waiting for her outside the washroom?

Ashley fixed her makeup with shaking hands and stepped out, her mind still reeling. And then she saw him—the man waiting in line—and her whole body went rigid.

Over six feet tall, lean, muscular, impeccably groomed, he smirked at her with the kind of charm that used to make her forget her own name.

Dark denim jeans. A Ralph Lauren blazer. The same charming mask he'd wear for exactly one more year before he showed her what was underneath it.

"I heard noises and got worried," Jake Grayson said, his tone full of concern. "Are you okay?"

"Jake…" The name came out strange in her mouth—half affection, half poison. "I'm fine."

The memories came flooding back. Her charismatic fiancé had taken her for lunch the day before their wedding. He'd said it was their last date as an unmarried couple and that it deserved special treatment.

She'd had no idea, back then, that the man in front of her would spend the next year dismantling her piece by piece. The thought sent ice down her spine, even now, even safe.

Jake paused for a moment, admiring her. "You look so beautiful today," he said.

Ashley was dressed casually in designer red suede trousers with flared legs and a halter top with a lace-up back. She realized she'd have to play along to avoid raising suspicion.

"Don't make me blush, Jake," she said, forcing herself to sound embarrassed. "You say the tackiest things!"

He tilted his head playfully. "Ah, then you'd better rethink our relationship, because Mr. Tacky comes with the package," he joked.

Ashley's eyes stung. God help her, she missed this—the closeness, the dizzy thrill of being chosen, the rush of feeling wanted.

And all of it had been a performance that cost her everything: her inheritance, her dignity, her self-respect, and eventually, her life.

Ashley's past now seemed like a blur. It was as if Jake had forced her into a trance, and when she woke up, she'd lost everything. Now something supernatural had given her a second chance.

"Let's go!" Jake said, interrupting her thoughts. They rode the elevator down, and he led her into the parking lot, where their car was waiting—a Mercedes G64 Armored Limousine.

"Where are we going?" Ashley asked, though she already knew the answer.

"The very best for you, my Queen. We have a lunch reservation at Le Bernardin!"

Inside, something curled with secondhand embarrassment. This same pageantry, this same chivalry, used to drive her wild with love.

How had she never seen through it? Or had it been real once—before Scarlet got her claws into him?

"Oh, how did you manage that at such short notice?" Ashley exclaimed, feigning innocence. "Wait, don't tell me… Let me guess… The powerful Mr. Grayson broke or bent a few laws to make it happen?"

The corners of Jake's mouth curled up. "Well, let's just say a congressman may or may not have been bumped from the reservation list."

Ashley covered her mouth in pretend shock. "Oh, my God! We shouldn't piss off politicians!"

Her fiancé gave a carefree shrug. "Senator O'Reilly couldn't have been happier. He just got a quarter-million dollars for his next campaign fund."

Ashley shook her head in amusement. "You know, Jake… sometimes money does buy happiness."

Jake pretended to tip an imaginary hat. "Love to hear that from the future Chairperson of Palmer Industries."

They laughed together again. Ashley recalled meeting Jake at a fashion show. They'd hit it off instantly, become best friends, progressed into lovers, and eventually married.

Ashley met his eyes and felt it again—that old, dangerous disarming. How was it possible that something this beautiful could also be this rotten?

Jake asked the chauffeur to raise the partition and cut the microphone. The click of it sealing shut sounded, to Ashley, almost ominous.

Then he turned toward his fiancée. "We're meeting like this after a long time. If you don't mind, I'd like to take some liberties…"

Jake leaned in, and Ashley froze, caught off guard by the advance. His fingers brushed her cheek, traced the curve of her earlobe, skimmed her shoulder, and trailed down her arm to rest on her thigh.

"Hey… We're on the road… What are you doing?" Ashley murmured, objecting.