The rain fell in sheets, relentless and unforgiving. It lashed against the windows of the Rothsford estate like an angry wave crashing against the shore, each drop heavy with the weight of the storm outside. The towering mansion stood against the tempest like a fortress, a symbol of power and legacy, but inside, it was the scene of her undoing.

Vivienne Rothsford stood at the gates, her hands trembling as she struggled to pry open the heavy, iron-bound door. The keys she had once carried with pride, the keys to this empire, were now useless. The metal felt cold beneath her fingertips, but it was nothing compared to the chill spreading through her chest. Her heart, once full of hope, had turned to ice.

Her dress, a delicate gown meant for a family gathering, now clung to her like a second skin, soaked through with the rain that had drenched her to the bone. She could taste the salt on her lips, though she wasn’t sure if it was from the tears she had long since shed or from the bitter sting of betrayal.

“I didn’t do it,” she whispered to the night, the words breaking through her lips in a hoarse, broken sob. “I didn’t leak the files. I didn’t embezzle a cent.”

But no one would listen. Not the board of directors, who had turned their backs on her with cold indifference. Not the press, who painted her as a villain in their headlines. Not even her parents, who had raised her as their own daughter—until they hadn’t.

Not Father, who had once looked at her with such pride, calling her the future of the Rothsford empire.

Not Mother, whose gentle hand had guided her through years of preparation for the responsibility she had been groomed for since she was a child.

And certainly not Ivy—their real daughter, the one they had abandoned years ago only to welcome her back like a queen. Ivy, with her honeyed words and false sympathy, who had played her role to perfection and had shattered Vivienne’s world in an instant.

“Ivy wouldn’t do something like that,” they had said. “She’s always been our darling. You must have made a mistake, Vivienne.”

But it wasn’t a mistake. It wasn’t even a misunderstanding. Ivy had orchestrated it all, with cunning precision. The leaks. The forged transfers. The fabricated evidence. The emails that tied Vivienne to crimes she hadn’t committed. Ivy, who had disappeared for years, had come back and stolen everything—her birthright, her family’s love, and now, her reputation.

She had been framed. And the worst part was, no one cared enough to see the truth.

“Vivienne Rothsford, fraud, embezzler, liar,” the headlines screamed. “Disowned by the Rothsford family.”

She couldn’t escape it. Not the public shaming. Not the whispers. Not the broken relationship with her parents. They had turned their backs on her without so much as a second thought. For years, they had been training her, grooming her to take over the empire. She had excelled, proven herself worthy of the title of heir.

But none of it mattered now.

Her knees buckled beneath her as the realization set in—she was alone.

She had spent her entire life trying to earn their love, their approval. She had followed their rules, played their game, done everything they had asked of her. But in the end, it had never been enough. Ivy was their real daughter. She was the one they had chosen. Vivienne was nothing more than an afterthought, a mistake that had been cast aside the moment it suited them.

She pressed her hands against the cold gates, her fingers numb from the rain and the sheer weight of what had happened. Her vision blurred as the storm raged around her, but it was the suffocating sense of betrayal that clouded her mind. How could they? How could they do this to her after everything?

The sound of a car engine broke through her spiraling thoughts, and for a moment, she looked up, her gaze meeting the headlights cutting through the rain. A black sedan, sleek and polished, came into view, its engine purring with the kind of quiet power she had once associated with the Rothsford name.

It was coming straight toward her. The headlights grew brighter, illuminating her in their harsh glow. For a moment, she thought she might be dreaming. Or perhaps the weight of her grief had finally driven her mad.

Then, with a screech of tires, the car veered toward her.

The headlights blinded her as they filled her vision, and instinctively, she stepped back, trying to scramble to safety, but her body was too slow. The rain had turned the ground slick, and her feet slipped from beneath her. The car was upon her before she could react, and she felt the sickening impact as her body was thrown backward.

Everything happened in slow motion. The scream she wanted to release never came. The world spun in a dizzying blur of light, sound, and pain. The car’s headlights swallowed her whole, and the last thing she felt was the coldness of the pavement against her skin.

Her breath hitched in her chest, her body unable to respond. And then, there was nothing.

When Vivienne awoke, the first sensation that hit her was the smell of jasmine. It was sweet and heady, a fragrance that instantly brought back memories of the Rothsford estate—the scent that had greeted her every morning in the family garden. She blinked, her eyes fluttering open to find a room bathed in soft, golden light.

Her surroundings were familiar, yet they felt impossibly distant. The room was just as it had been when she was a child: lavender wallpaper, delicate lace curtains fluttering in the breeze, and a stuffed bear sitting in the corner of the room, just like it had been all those years ago. Her heart skipped a beat. This was her old bedroom.

She shot up from the bed, her pulse racing. The covers fell away from her body as she stumbled to the mirror across the room. She stood before it, eyes wide, heart thundering in her chest. The reflection that greeted her was not the face of the woman she had become after years of struggle, defeat, and betrayal. No, this was the face of a younger Vivienne—one without the lines of stress, the haunted look that had consumed her after the public shaming. Her skin was smooth, her eyes clear, her lips unmarked by the bitterness that had once claimed them.

For a moment, she thought she might be dreaming. Or perhaps she had crossed over into some alternate reality. But as the memories surged back—flooding her mind with the events that had led to her downfall—she knew, with startling clarity, that this was not a dream. She was back.

Back to before everything went wrong.

Back to the time when Ivy had first returned to the family, before the betrayals, before the lies.

She stared at her reflection, her thoughts spinning, but one truth cut through the chaos: this was a second chance. The universe had granted her an opportunity to rewrite the story. She could take back what had been stolen from her. She didn’t have to play by their rules anymore.

She didn’t have to fight for their love. Not anymore.

She had been the one they had trained to inherit the Rothsford empire. It was her destiny. And if they had forgotten that, she would remind them.

This time, she wouldn’t play the part of the dutiful daughter, seeking affection from a family who didn’t care. This time, Vivienne Rothsford would take their fortune. And she would burn everything else to the ground.

The sun had barely risen when Vivienne stepped into the hallway of the Rothsford estate once again, but it felt like a lifetime had passed. The familiar marble floors gleamed under the light filtering through the towering windows, and the grand portraits of her ancestors looked down at her, silent witnesses to her return. They had always seemed so distant, so untouchable, but now, they felt like shadows of a life she was determined to reclaim.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she walked down the corridor, each step echoing through the empty hall. The house was as quiet as it had always been at this hour—silent, pristine, as though frozen in time. Yet, everything felt different now. The air was thick with the weight of possibility, a sense of power that she hadn’t known in her first life. The Vivienne who had once walked these halls with a hopeful heart, constantly striving to earn the love of her parents, was gone. In her place stood a woman who had nothing left to lose, and everything to gain.

She had been given a second chance. A rare gift, one that she would not squander.

Vivienne reached the grand staircase and paused, looking up at the sweeping staircase that spiraled upward toward the bedrooms. Her gaze flickered to the end of the hallway, where the door to her father’s study stood ajar. The door that had once felt so intimidating, so imposing, now seemed like the gateway to her future.

Father. The man who had raised her, molded her into a businesswoman worthy of inheriting the Rothsford empire. The man who had cast her aside when it became convenient, when Ivy had reappeared, the biological daughter he had abandoned for years.

“I will make them remember,” Vivienne murmured to herself. Her voice sounded strange—foreign—but it was firm, unyielding.

A soft sound broke her from her thoughts. A footstep. She froze, her heart skipping a beat. Was someone else awake already?

Her gaze darted down the hall toward the source of the sound, but there was no one in sight. Just the shadows stretching across the floor.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing pulse. Whoever it was, they wouldn’t interfere with her plans. Not now. Not when everything was so close.

Her fingers grazed the polished banister as she ascended the stairs, each step bringing her closer to her goal. She could almost taste the victory, could feel the power of the empire slipping through her fingers—her fingers, not Ivy’s. She had been the one they had trained. She had been the one they had trusted. And if Ivy thought she could take it all from her, she was sorely mistaken.

The footsteps sounded again, this time more deliberate, more certain. Someone was approaching.

Vivienne’s pulse quickened, and she turned toward the top of the stairs just as Ivy’s figure emerged from the shadows.

There she was.

Ivy, the golden child, the daughter who had been brought back into the fold with the grace of royalty. Ivy, with her perfect smile and calculating eyes. Ivy, who had betrayed her without a second thought.

Vivienne’s lips tightened into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“I didn’t expect to see you so early,” Ivy said, her voice smooth and sweet, as always. Her long, dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her expensive gown shimmered in the soft light of the hallway. She looked every bit the princess she had once been, the one the Rothsford family had always preferred.

“I could say the same to you,” Vivienne replied, her voice cool but laced with an edge. “What brings you out so early?”

Ivy’s smile faltered for a moment, but only for a moment. She was nothing if not composed. “I was just… taking a walk,” she said, her eyes glinting with something unreadable. “Trying to clear my head.”

Vivienne couldn’t help but laugh, the sound sharp and unsettling. “Clear your head? Or make sure no one else is making moves behind your back?”

Ivy stiffened at the insinuation, but she recovered quickly, her lips curling into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Is that how you see me, Vivienne? As someone who would use underhanded methods to get what they want?”

Vivienne’s gaze darkened. “Isn’t that exactly what you did?” she replied, her voice low and dangerous. “You framed me, Ivy. You manipulated the entire situation and made sure I was the one who took the fall. Don’t pretend it was an accident.”

Ivy’s expression flickered for just a second before she regained control. “You’re paranoid,” she said lightly, her tone smooth. “The only person responsible for your downfall is you.”

Vivienne took a step forward, her voice a whisper but filled with venom. “You may have fooled everyone else, Ivy. But not me. Not this time.”

Ivy’s smile faltered, but she quickly masked her discomfort with a soft, almost pitying laugh. “You’ve changed, Vivienne. I used to think you were weak. But now, I see you're just bitter. You always were, weren’t you? Jealous of me.”

Vivienne’s gaze hardened, her fists clenching at her sides. She could feel the heat rising in her chest, the fire that had been building for years now beginning to burn brightly.

“I’m not jealous,” Vivienne said, her voice steady, though there was an edge to it. “I’m not angry either. Not anymore.”

Ivy raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a sly smile. “Then what are you, Vivienne? What’s all this for? Revenge? What’s left for you to gain?”

Vivienne’s eyes narrowed as she stepped closer, her voice a whisper in the silence of the hallway. “I’m here to take back what’s mine. The Rothsford empire. And if you think you can stop me, Ivy, you’re mistaken.”

The two women stood there for a moment, locked in a silent battle of wills. Ivy’s eyes flickered, but she said nothing.

Vivienne turned on her heel and began walking down the hallway toward her father’s study. She didn’t need to look back to know that Ivy was watching her, her gaze filled with doubt and uncertainty.

She had no more time to waste on Ivy’s games. There was a larger battle to fight now, one that would require every ounce of her cunning, every shred of strength she had.

But this time, Vivienne Rothsford wouldn’t be fighting for a place in the family’s heart. She was going to take their empire, and no one—least of all Ivy—was going to stop her.

The study door creaked open as Vivienne stepped inside, the familiar scent of aged wood and leather wrapping around her like a comforting embrace. The room had always been her father's sanctuary—a place where he had crafted his empire with ruthless precision. Each book, each artifact, each framed photograph on the wall was a reminder of the power he had built, of the world he had molded. And now, it would be hers.

Her heart beat faster as she walked deeper into the room, her steps echoing against the polished hardwood floors. Her fingers brushed against the back of the leather chair that once belonged to her father. The weight of the moment pressed down on her, but she welcomed it. There would be no more running. No more hiding in the shadows of a family that had cast her aside.

The desk, once covered in piles of paperwork and blueprints for new acquisitions, was now neat and orderly, with only a few scattered documents resting on the surface. Vivienne’s eyes narrowed as she approached, her gaze settling on the papers.

She knew what they were—plans for the next major expansion of the Rothsford empire. Deals that would secure the family’s wealth for generations to come. And right at the center of it all, the key to everything: the Rothsford trust, the controlling stake in their vast fortune.

Her fingers brushed over the papers, but she didn’t move them. Not yet.

Vivienne’s mind raced as she pieced together the web of power that had kept her family at the top for so long. It wasn’t just about business deals, or acquisitions, or even the empire her father had built from the ground up. No, the true power was in the control of the family fortune, the hidden alliances, and the delicate balance of trust between her father, the board members, and the others who had their fingers in the Rothsford pie.

She had always known she would inherit it. She had been trained for it. But now, it seemed like a distant dream. Ivy had taken everything from her, and Vivienne knew she would have to fight for what was rightfully hers.

Her mind flickered back to the moment she had been thrown out of the estate, the look in Ivy’s eyes as her biological daughter had stood beside their parents, her hands clasped together like a perfect little angel. She had played her part well, too well.

Vivienne’s grip tightened on the desk, her nails digging into the wood. She had been the perfect daughter—loyal, obedient, and willing to do whatever it took to earn their love. But Ivy? Ivy had played them all like puppets. She had bided her time, waited for the right moment to strike, and when she did, it was with the precision of a master manipulator.

But Vivienne had something Ivy didn’t—experience. She had lived through the pain, the betrayal, and the ruin. She had been on the other side of the lie. Now, she would turn the tables.

The question was how.

“Vivienne.”

The voice came from behind her, breaking her thoughts. She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Father,” she said, her voice calm, though her heart raced.

She turned slowly, her back straight as she faced the doorway. There, standing in the threshold, was Arthur Rothsford. His sharp blue eyes, so much like her own, studied her with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. He was older now, his hair peppered with gray, his face etched with the lines of age and experience, but he still held an air of authority that made his presence impossible to ignore.

“Vivienne,” he repeated, his voice cool. “I didn’t expect you to be here.”

“Why not?” she asked, her tone sharp. “It is my rightful place, after all.”

Arthur didn’t move, his eyes narrowing as he regarded her. “Your rightful place?” he echoed. “Your place was never here, Vivienne. You were a daughter by adoption. We gave you everything—every opportunity, every lesson, every chance to prove yourself. And yet you squandered it.”

Vivienne clenched her fists, but she held her ground. “You let Ivy destroy me,” she said, her voice low but firm. “You chose her. You believed her lies. And in doing so, you lost me. Your daughter.”

Arthur’s expression shifted, but it was only for a moment. “I didn’t choose Ivy,” he said, his voice hard. “Ivy came back. She has proven herself worthy of this family, Vivienne. You—”

“I was worthy,” she interrupted, her eyes burning with the sting of old wounds. “I was always worthy. But you never saw it, did you? You never wanted to see it. It was always about her, Ivy—the golden girl. The perfect daughter.”

Arthur’s gaze grew darker. “You need to let go of this bitterness, Vivienne,” he said, his voice cold. “It’s clouding your judgment. Ivy is the one who has earned her place here.”

Vivienne’s hands trembled, but she steadied herself. “Then I’ll earn mine, too. If that’s what it takes.”

Arthur’s eyes flickered with something—perhaps regret, perhaps something else—but he said nothing. He simply turned away and walked out of the study, leaving Vivienne standing alone in the heart of the empire she would take back.

The door clicked shut behind him, but Vivienne didn’t move. She stood there, taking in the silence that followed. The silence of a world on the brink of change.

Ivy had always been the favorite. The true daughter, the biological child who had been reclaimed after years of absence. But Vivienne had never been weak. She had been trained for this very moment, for the day when she would take what was hers.

Arthur’s words echoed in her mind: Ivy has proven herself worthy of this family.

Vivienne’s lips curled into a slow, determined smile.

She would show them. She would show them all.

Ivy might have been their golden child, but Vivienne was the one who had been groomed to inherit the empire. She had the knowledge. She had the experience. She had the drive. And if it took everything, she would remind them all who the true heir was.