Chapter 1
Would you believe me if I told you I've died six times on my wedding day? You wouldn't. But the white dress sticking to my cold skin and the taste of champagne mixed with blood in my mouth—those were real.
I woke up gasping.
The satin sheets. The bridal suite. The morning sunlight cutting through the curtains like a blade.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand. I already knew what it said before I looked.
[Today's the big day, Bella! I'm SO happy for you! See you at the altar. —Sophie]
Sophie. My maid of honor. My sister by choice, if not by blood.
The date on my phone read June 15, 2024.
My wedding day.
Again.
The first time I lived this day, I was a naive, truhat woman in love. I married Ryan Carter, the man I'd been with for four years. Successful lawyer. Perfect smile. The kind of man other women envied you for having.
That first time, I never made it to the honeymoon.
At the reception, someone slipped something into my drink. I collapsed on the dance floor in front of two hundred guests. Everyone thought it was a heart attack. A tragic accident on the happiest day of my life.
But it wasn't an accident.
When I woke up in this same bed, on this same morning, with this same text message—I thought I'd had a nightmare.
So I lived the day again. I avoided the drink. I thought I was safe.
Then a car ran me down in the parking lot as I walked to the honeymoon limo.
The third time, I was pushed off the hotel balcony.
The fourth time, stabbed in the bathroom stall.
Each time I died, I woke up here. Same bed. Same text. Same damn wedding day.
By now, I understood the rules. If I died before midnight, the day reset. If I could survive until 12:00 AM, I'd be free.
But someone—or multiple someones—didn't want me to see tomorrow.
I threw off the covers and walked to the window. The wedding venue was visible in the distance—a gorgeous estate on a hillside that Ryan had insisted on booking despite the cost.
My phone buzzed again. This time it was Ryan.
[Can't wait to see you walk down that aisle, beautiful. Today you become mine forever.]
I stared at those words.
Forever.
In my second loop, I'd discovered something. While hiding from the car that killed me the first time, I'd circled back to Ryan's dressing room and heard him on the phone.
"After tonight, it's done. The prenup guarantees everything goes to the surviving spouse. Her life insurance pays out double for accidents."
He'd been talking to someone. A woman. I hadn't seen who.
My fiancé wanted me dead for money.
And he wasn't working alone.
I woke up gasping.
The satin sheets. The bridal suite. The morning sunlight cutting through the curtains like a blade.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand. I already knew what it said before I looked.
[Today's the big day, Bella! I'm SO happy for you! See you at the altar. —Sophie]
Sophie. My maid of honor. My sister by choice, if not by blood.
The date on my phone read June 15, 2024.
My wedding day.
Again.
The first time I lived this day, I was a naive, truhat woman in love. I married Ryan Carter, the man I'd been with for four years. Successful lawyer. Perfect smile. The kind of man other women envied you for having.
That first time, I never made it to the honeymoon.
At the reception, someone slipped something into my drink. I collapsed on the dance floor in front of two hundred guests. Everyone thought it was a heart attack. A tragic accident on the happiest day of my life.
But it wasn't an accident.
When I woke up in this same bed, on this same morning, with this same text message—I thought I'd had a nightmare.
So I lived the day again. I avoided the drink. I thought I was safe.
Then a car ran me down in the parking lot as I walked to the honeymoon limo.
The third time, I was pushed off the hotel balcony.
The fourth time, stabbed in the bathroom stall.
Each time I died, I woke up here. Same bed. Same text. Same damn wedding day.
By now, I understood the rules. If I died before midnight, the day reset. If I could survive until 12:00 AM, I'd be free.
But someone—or multiple someones—didn't want me to see tomorrow.
I threw off the covers and walked to the window. The wedding venue was visible in the distance—a gorgeous estate on a hillside that Ryan had insisted on booking despite the cost.
My phone buzzed again. This time it was Ryan.
[Can't wait to see you walk down that aisle, beautiful. Today you become mine forever.]
I stared at those words.
Forever.
In my second loop, I'd discovered something. While hiding from the car that killed me the first time, I'd circled back to Ryan's dressing room and heard him on the phone.
"After tonight, it's done. The prenup guarantees everything goes to the surviving spouse. Her life insurance pays out double for accidents."
He'd been talking to someone. A woman. I hadn't seen who.
My fiancé wanted me dead for money.
And he wasn't working alone.