Chapter 1
Olivia's POV
In the presidential suite of the Four Seasons Los Angeles, the dim lighting made everything feel surreal. My head was spinning, my body burning like fire. What the hell did Victoria put in my champagne?
But right now, I didn't care. I only wanted the man in front of me.
Ryan Blackwood was heavily intoxicated, his hazel eyes glazed with desire. His large hands roamed over my body as I responded eagerly. Screw it, let's go wild tonight.
"Fuck... Olivia..." he groaned drunkenly.
I straddled him, feeling his hardness pressing against me. The drug made me bold beyond reason as I lowered myself onto him, the sensation of being filled making me moan involuntarily.
"God... you're so big..." I gasped, beginning to move up and down.
His hands gripped my hips, drunk but still instinctively matching my rhythm. My breasts bounced before him as he reached up, roughly squeezing them.
The room filled with our heavy breathing and the sound of flesh against flesh. Sweat trickled down my collarbone as each thrust sent waves of pleasure through my nerve endings.
"That's it... harder..." I twisted my hips, meeting his thrusts.
I'd never been this wild before. This feeling... so fucking incredible.
Just as I was about to reach climax—
My head suddenly felt like it had been struck by a hammer!
A series of images flashed before my eyes:
Emma! My little Emma! Only three years old, wearing a pink dress, learning to walk, suddenly collapsing, foaming at the mouth...
"It was an accident, Olivia. The child was too young, ate something wrong." Victoria's hypocritical face swayed before me.
But I knew the truth! She poisoned Emma's milk! She killed my daughter!
Then myself... the harness on set suddenly snapping... falling from twenty meters high...
That wasn't an accident! It was Victoria! ALL Victoria!
Memories flooded back like a tsunami. I remembered everything from my past life—my stepmother Victoria drugging me, my mistaken entry into Ryan's suite, the one-night stand leading to a shotgun marriage, three years of polite distance, Emma's tragic death, my depression, and finally my "accidental" death.
My climax exploded at that moment, my body convulsing violently as my nails dug deep into Ryan's chest, reaching an unprecedented peak between passion and vengeful fury.
I was reborn! I'm fucking REBORN!
Dawn broke. Sunlight filtered through heavy curtains as I rolled off Ryan, my body weak. The drug's effects were wearing off, my mind gradually clearing.
Stay calm, Olivia. You're yourself from three years ago. Everything can start over.
Ryan awakened too, rubbing his temples as he sat up, clearly still hungover.
"I..." I pulled the sheet over my body, suddenly feeling awkward. "Last night we..."
Damn, how do I bring this up? We just had sex, and I was drugged.
"Don't worry." Ryan's voice was hoarse, clearly heavily intoxicated. "We're both adults. This kind of thing... it's normal."
Suddenly, commotion erupted outside the door.
"Quick! Word is Olivia Martinez spent the night here!"
"Did you get the shot? This is explosive news!"
My blood instantly froze. Paparazzi! Victoria's trap!
I remembered this scene clearly from my past life. TMZ photographers burst in, capturing photos of us in bed. Though we later announced our relationship to save face, my career still never recovered.
But this time...
"Ryan," I feigned panic, "those are reporters outside! If they photograph us..."
Ryan's intoxication instantly cleared halfway. He looked alertly toward the door, then quickly got out of bed to dress.
"Don't be afraid." He buttoned his shirt while speaking. "I'll handle this."
"But... this will ruin my reputation." I acted fragile, tears welling in my eyes. "I'm still so young, my career..."
Hearing my words, Ryan stopped dressing, looked deeply at me, then unexpectedly reached out to hold my hand.
"Then let the whole world know we're together." His voice was unusually firm. "I'll protect you."
What? In my past life, he said this too, but it felt more like a reluctant choice. Now... why does his expression look so serious?
"Are you sure?" I probed. "This will affect your reputation..."
"I'm sure." He interrupted, now dressed in shirt and suit pants. "Trust me, Olivia. We'll face this together."
Looking at his resolute profile, a strange feeling stirred in my heart.
Well, since you're being so cooperative, let's stage the perfect counterattack.
At ten AM, the hotel entrance was a battlefield. Dozens of paparazzi wielded cameras and telephoto lenses, flashbulbs blinding me.
I wore last night's black evening gown, somewhat wrinkled but still elegant. I linked arms with Ryan, holding my head high as we walked toward the exit.
The moment we opened the door, reporters swarmed like sharks sensing blood.
"Olivia! Olivia! What's your relationship with Mr. Blackwood?"
"What did you two do in that room last night?"
"Someone says you're being kept. How do you respond?"
Hearing that last question, I sneered internally. Kept? I'm an Oscar-winning actress, bitch!
Just as I was about to retort, Ryan suddenly stopped and, in front of all the cameras, firmly grasped my hand.
"I'll answer that." His voice was clear and strong. "Olivia is my girlfriend. We're in a serious relationship."
Girlfriend? In my past life, he only said we were together, never used such an intimate term!
Camera clicks and gasps erupted around us.
"Mr. Blackwood, are you certain? Is this an official announcement?"
"Absolutely." Ryan wrapped his arm around my waist and kissed my cheek lightly. "I love her."
I love her?!
I nearly lost my footing. He never said those three words in my past life!
"Miss Martinez, do you have anything to say?"
I took a deep breath, flashing my brightest smile. "I'm very happy."
As expected, "Oscar Rising Star's Hotel Romance with Golden Producer" quickly became the day's headline.
Returning to my Beverly Hills home, my good mood instantly evaporated.
Opening the door, I found my father Robert raging in the living room. His face was ashen, veins bulging at his temples.
"Olivia! You shameless little slut! Sleeping around with men!"
Little slut? I endured you for three years in my past life, but NOT this time!
Still, I suppressed my anger, putting on a hurt expression.
"Olivia, darling," a sickeningly sweet voice called out. "How could you be so impulsive? This isn't good for your career..."
I looked up to see my stepmother Victoria sitting on the sofa. At forty-five, she was well-maintained with perfectly styled golden waves, still beautiful. But I knew what a venomous heart lay beneath that exquisite face.
Shut up! You MURDERER!
Seeing her, images of Emma's death flashed before my eyes again. My little baby, only three years old, with azure eyes and an angelic smile. This woman sitting before me had poisoned her milk, then watched her die in agony. And I, depressed from losing my daughter, was eventually "accidentally" killed by her design.
My fists clenched so tight my nails dug into my palms.
My stepsister Chloe was mad with jealousy, smashing her wine glass to the floor with a "BANG."
"Why is it always YOU! Why do all the good things happen to YOU!" she shrieked, her face contorted.
Facing these three familiar, detestable faces, I suddenly felt calm.
Don't rush. Take your time. This time I'll make each of you pay.
"Dad," I looked into Robert's eyes, speaking calmly, "maybe this is an opportunity."
The entire living room fell silent. They clearly hadn't expected me to say this.
"What do you mean?" Robert frowned.
"Ryan Blackwood is one of Hollywood's most powerful producers. Being with him can only help my career, not hurt it." I said flatly. "Besides, he says he loves me."
Victoria's expression changed instantly. Her plan was to destroy me, but instead I'd turned disaster into fortune.
Surprised, dear stepmother? The game is just beginning.
"You..." Chloe trembled with rage.
I walked toward the stairs, glancing back at them.
"I'm tired, going to rest. Ryan's picking me up for dinner tonight."
Leaving the three of them staring at each other, I gracefully went upstairs.
Victoria, Chloe, and Robert... this lifetime, I'll make you pay for everything you did in the last. Emma's revenge, my own revenge—I'll settle every score, one by one.