The boardroom lights glared harshly against polished glass and steel, almost too bright for Emily Hart. She sat at the far end of the long table, her hands folded in her lap, trying not to let them shake. Her chest was tight, her throat dry. She had been here before, always on the defensive, always shrinking into herself as others made decisions for her.

Tonight was no different.

Her stepsister, Stephanie Hart, lounged near the head of the table, her white silk blouse and perfect hair shining like she had already claimed victory. Beside her sat Damien Louis, Emily’s ex-boyfriend, his arm casually draped along the chair, his smile sharp with cruelty.

“Emily,” Stephanie’s voice was sweet, but her eyes glittered like knives, “you’re just not strong enough to run Hart Enterprises. You’ve failed our father, failed the shareholders, and failed this company. It’s time you stepped aside.”

Damien leaned forward, gaze sliding over Emily like she was something pitiful. “Sign the transfer papers, Emily. It’s for the best. You’ve tried, but… let’s face it. You were never meant for this.”

Emily’s chest tightened. Words stuck in her throat. She wanted to fight back, to scream that they were liars, thieves, traitors. But all she managed was a weak whisper:

“This is… my company…”

Stephanie’s laugh rang through the room like broken glass. “Not for long.”

A wine glass slid across the table toward Emily. She hesitated, but Damien’s smirk dared her to refuse. Her trembling fingers lifted it. She drank.

The burn hit her throat first. Then the rush. Her pulse skyrocketed, then crashed. Emily gasped, clutching her chest. The glass slipped from her hand, shattering against the floor.

“W-What… did you…..” Her words choked off as her knees buckled.

Damien caught her before she fell, but his grip was steady, cold. He wasn’t saving her. He was watching her die.

“Pathetic,” he whispered, his lips curling.

Emily’s vision blurred. She heard Stephanie’s voice, distant and cruel: “You should’ve stayed in your little corner, sister. Weaklings like you don’t deserve empires.”

Her last thought, as darkness closed in, was bitter despair:

I was never enough…

And then, silence.

⸻—————————————————————————

A breath.

Sharp. Violent. New.

Emily’s chest rose again but something inside her had changed. Her eyes snapped open, not timid and tear filled but blazing with a fire they had never carried before.

Her gaze darted around the room a cracked ceiling fan spinning, a dimly lit bedroom she recognized faintly. Her hands gripped the sheets. Smaller. Softer. This body was weak… but her mind was not.

She rose, unsteady, and stumbled toward a mirror on the wall.

The reflection staring back at her was Emily Hart pale skin, delicate features, eyes still wide with fragility. But when she smiled, it wasn’t Emily’s timid smile.

It was sharp. Dangerous. Confident.

“Hmm,” she murmured, running a finger along the mirror’s edge. “So this is the body I’ve been given.”

Memories not her own slammed into her mind Emily’s memories. Years of humiliation. Stephanie mocking her. Damien cheating, then betraying her. The board stripping her of power. A lifetime of weakness, all crashing down until her heart broke.

But Raven for that was who she was, in soul and spirit only laughed, low and dark.

“They wanted you broken, little lamb. But instead… they’ve given you me.”

Her lips curved into a smirk, her amber eyes blazing in Emily’s reflection.

“Emily Hart is dead. From her ashes, I rise. I am Raven… and I will make them all pay.”

The door opened suddenly.

“Miss Hart?” The voice was deep, steady, protective.

Luguard Jones stepped into the room, his tall frame filling the doorway. His black suit fit his broad shoulders perfectly, his jaw rough with stubble, his dark eyes scanning the space with quiet authority.

He paused, studying her. Something about her was different. Stronger. Sharper.

“You fainted earlier,” he said carefully. “I was worried.”

Raven turned to him, her smile slow and deliberate. She stepped closer, her new body fragile but her presence commanding. “Why are you here, Luguard?” she asked softly, her tone wrapping around his name like silk.

His jaw tightened, his gaze flicking away for the briefest second before locking back on hers. “It’s my job to be.”

“No.” She tilted her head, eyes narrowing in satisfaction. “It’s more than that. You’ll protect me… with your life.”

The words were half command, half promise.

Luguard’s fists flexed at his sides, but his voice was steady. “Always.”

For a moment, silence thickened between them. She let it hang, savoring the tension, the way his eyes lingered just a fraction too long. Weak Emily had never noticed it but Raven did.

And she would use it.

⸻—————————————————————-

Later, alone again, Raven stood before the mirror, tracing Emily’s delicate face with her fingertip.

“Stephanie. Damien. Everyone who laughed at you, Emily… they won’t laugh for long.”

Her smile sharpened, glowing with cruel delight.

“This life won’t be wasted. I’ll take your revenge for you. And when I’m done, I’ll rule this empire in heels sharp enough to cut throats.”

Her voice dropped to a whisper, filled with fire.

“Emily Hart is gone. Raven has returned.”

The night outside seemed to bow in agreement.

The morning light crept softly across the wide windows of the penthouse, painting the room in pale gold. Raven stirred beneath silk sheets, her lashes flickering as she opened her eyes. For the first few breaths, she lay still, adjusting to the fragile weight of her new body. Emily Hart’s frame felt unfamiliar too delicate, too untrained, the complete opposite of the body she had once commanded.

When she finally rose, her legs trembled. Even standing was a battle. She padded barefoot across the polished hardwood floor, moving toward the tall mirror fixed against the wall.

The reflection that greeted her made her pause.

Emily Hart’s timid features stared back, the soft mouth, the pale skin, the wide eyes that once overflowed with fear. But Raven was the one smiling now. A slow, sharp curve of the lips that had never belonged to Emily.

“You really let them break you,” Raven murmured, running her fingers along the cool edge of the mirror. Her voice was calm, almost amused. “Too soft. Too trusting. Too weak.”

Yet she wasn’t mocking. There was a strange kind of intimacy in her words, a recognition of the girl who had lived and suffered before her. Emily’s memories pressed heavily at the back of her mind, insistent and raw. Raven let them wash over her, one by one.

Stephanie, perfect in her silk dresses, standing at the boardroom table, her honeyed tone disguising knives as she undermined Emily’s every decision. Damien, whispering I love you against Emily’s skin while slipping into Stephanie’s arms hours later. The board’s laughter echoing as Emily dropped papers with shaking hands, cheeks burning crimson while no one stood for her.

Raven inhaled deeply through her nose, jaw tightening. Emily had lived her life drowning in shame and betrayal. Now that shame belonged to Raven, and she had no intention of drowning.

“Don’t worry, little lamb,” she whispered toward the glass, her smirk hardening into something dangerous. “They won’t laugh for long. I’ll make them choke on the taste of their own arrogance.”

The door creaked open. Raven didn’t flinch. She turned slowly, her eyes lifting with cool poise.

“Miss Hart?”

Luguard Jones filled the doorway, tall and steady, the faint scent of cedar and gun oil clinging to him. His suit was tailored to perfection, every line of fabric stretched across his broad shoulders, his tie knotted with soldier-like precision. He studied her silently, those dark eyes of his sweeping the room before settling back on her with sharp attention.

“You’re awake,” he said, his deep voice carrying both relief and restraint.

Raven tilted her head, letting her lips curve. “Stronger than ever.”

He hesitated. The subtle furrow of his brow betrayed him. “Something’s… different about you.”

She stepped closer, bare feet whispering against the floor. Emily’s body swayed with fragility, but Raven held her ground, forcing every step to radiate authority. She stopped just inches away from him, tilting her chin up until her gaze locked onto his.

“Maybe I’ve had a change of heart,” she replied, her voice dropping low, each word brushing between them like velvet.

For the briefest second, she saw it—the flicker in his eyes. Heat, raw and unguarded, before he masked it with the cold discipline of a bodyguard. His jaw tightened, and he stepped back half an inch, as though to reset the distance between them.

“Whatever it is,” he said gruffly, “keep it. It suits you better than weakness.”

Raven’s smirk widened, slow and knowing. Emily would have flushed crimson at such a remark, shrinking into herself. Raven savored it, rolling his words across her tongue like fine wine.

“Duly noted,” she whispered, and brushed past him as though he were just another shadow in her path.

Her shoulder grazed his arm as she passed, a deliberate touch, light but charged. She didn’t miss the way his breath hitched quietly, how his muscles went taut beneath the expensive fabric of his jacket. He recovered instantly, straightening, but Raven had already seen what she needed to see.

Later, she sat at Emily’s desk, the room dim except for the warm glow of a lamp. Papers spread across the polished surface like a battlefield. Contracts, stock reports, board notes all of them stained with betrayal. Stephanie’s fingerprints were everywhere, delicate and poisonous, weaving Emily into traps she had never noticed.

Raven skimmed through them with calm precision. To Emily, these documents had been weapons of humiliation. To Raven, they were blueprints for war.

“Patience,” she murmured, leaning back in the leather chair. “Every empire has cracks in its walls. All I have to do is press until it falls.”

She smiled at the thought, the image of Stephanie’s perfect face crumbling filling her with satisfaction. Damien’s smug grin turning to panic was an image she craved even more.

When her eyes lifted from the papers, she caught sight of the tall figure standing in the hallway just beyond the door. Luguard leaned against the wall, his stance relaxed but his eyes sharp, constantly scanning for threats. A sentinel. A shield.

And hers.

Raven rose from the chair and padded toward the doorway. She leaned lightly against the frame, her robe slipping just enough to expose a bare shoulder.

“You take guarding me very seriously,” she said softly, her voice brushing like smoke against the silence.

Luguard’s eyes flicked to her, and though his face remained impassive, she caught the brief pause in his breath. His gaze dropped for the smallest fraction of a second to her exposed skin before snapping back up with practiced control.

“It’s my job,” he replied evenly, though his voice was rougher than usual.

Raven stepped closer, until the space between them was nothing but a heated thread. She let her fingers trace along the edge of the doorway, her eyes fixed on his. “And if I asked you to protect more than my life?”

For the first time, the perfect mask on his face faltered. Just slightly. His throat worked as he swallowed, his jaw flexing as though he were biting back words that wanted to slip free.

“Don’t play games, Miss Hart,” he said finally, his tone low, almost warning.

Raven smiled, stepping back at last. “Who said I was playing?”

She turned gracefully and walked away, her robe swaying around her legs, leaving him rooted in the hall. She didn’t have to look back to know his eyes followed her, that his steady heartbeat had stumbled just enough to betray him.

For the first time since stepping into Emily’s body, Raven felt a new hunger stir alongside her thirst for revenge. It wasn’t weakness. It was power. Desire sharpened into another weapon, one she would wield just as ruthlessly as her mind.

Stephanie and Damien would crumble soon enough. But Luguard…

He would fall, too. Only not into ruin. Into her.

The morning meeting was set for nine sharp. By eight, Raven was already in the company car, her dark sunglasses shielding eyes that had seen a thousand boardrooms and bled through countless betrayals. The driver said nothing he didn’t need to. Luguard sat across from her in the back seat, broad shoulders filling the space like a second wall.

He was silent, watchful. Always watchful.

Raven let her legs cross, the silk of her skirt sliding a little higher. She didn’t miss how his gaze darted once so fast she might have imagined it before his eyes locked back on the passing skyline.

“Board meetings used to terrify her,” Raven said casually, her voice cool as glass.

“Her?” he asked, brow lifting slightly.

“Emily,” she replied, tilting her head with a faint smirk. “But that’s not who I am anymore.”

For a long second, he studied her, his gaze sharp and searching. Then he gave a curt nod. “Good. Weakness has no place where you’re going.”

Her lips curved. Oh, Luguard. You have no idea how right you are.

⸻

The boardroom smelled of coffee, leather, and arrogance. Executives lined the long mahogany table, their expressions expectant, some amused, some dismissive. They were used to Emily Hart stumbling over her words, shuffling her papers, apologizing for simply existing.

But today wasn’t Emily.

Raven entered with the grace of a storm contained in human skin. She moved to the head of the table, her heels clicking with measured rhythm. When she sat, she didn’t shuffle papers. She folded her hands neatly and looked at them, one by one. A predator assessing prey.

“Shall we begin?” she said softly, her voice like silk wrapped around steel.

Stephanie Hart was the first to speak, her perfect red lips curving into a patronizing smile. She wore cream silk today, her golden hair falling in waves, the very image of innocence and charm.

“Of course, Emily,” Stephanie purred. “We were all concerned after your… episode last week. Are you sure you’re ready to handle this meeting?”

Soft chuckles rippled through the table.

Raven didn’t flinch. She leaned back in her chair, eyes glittering. “Funny. You’re concerned about me when it’s your numbers that are bleeding this quarter.”

The room fell quiet.

Stephanie’s smile faltered, just slightly. “Excuse me?” Stephanie said

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Raven said sweetly, tilting her head. “Should I repeat it louder, so even the shareholders hear how you’ve been siphoning funds into that little shell company of yours?”

Gasps echoed. A few executives shifted uncomfortably.

Stephanie’s nails curled against the table. “You… don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Raven smiled. Emily’s memories had shown her everything, every betrayal, every backhand deal Stephanie thought she hid. Raven had sharpened those memories into blades.

“Oh, I do. And this is just the beginning.”

The silence that followed was delicious.

When the meeting adjourned, Stephanie stormed out, her heels clacking like gunfire against marble. Raven followed at a leisurely pace, savoring the trail of rage left behind her steps.

She reached the elevator where Luguard stood waiting, his presence grounding her like steel. He opened the doors, and she stepped in without breaking stride.

As the elevator doors slid shut, Raven leaned back against the mirrored wall, exhaling slowly. Adrenaline hummed through her veins like liquid fire.

“You enjoyed that,” Luguard said simply, his deep voice vibrating in the confined space.

Her lips curved, eyes meeting his reflection. “Maybe I did.”

He studied her quietly, then spoke again. “You’re not the same woman I was hired to protect.”

Raven turned her head, her gaze catching his. Their faces were inches apart now, the air between them heavy with unspoken heat.

“Does that bother you?” she asked softly.

His jaw tightened, his throat working as he swallowed. “No,” he said at last, his voice rougher than before. “It intrigues me.”

Raven’s smile widened. Slowly, deliberately, she let her fingers trace along the polished rail behind her, her body leaning just a fraction closer.

“Careful, Luguard,” she whispered, her voice low and dangerous. “Intrigue can be the first step to obsession.”

The elevator chimed, the doors sliding open. She stepped out gracefully, leaving him standing there, his hand flexing at his side as though resisting the urge to reach for her.

She didn’t look back, but she could feel it’s the fire she’d lit inside him, smoldering, waiting.

And she intended to pour gasoline on it.