

On the eve of closing a billion-dollar funding round, Damon Jones is betrayed by the two people closest to him. His girlfriend Alicia Watkins and his best friend Lewis Baird orchestrate a setup. They get him drunk, trick him into driving, frame him for drunk driving, seize control of his company, and ultimately take his life. When fate gives Damon a second chance, he remembers every detail of the scheme.

The second day after I was transferred back to Los Angeles, I ran into someone I used to know on a street corner. She stepped right in front of me, eyes going wide. “Mia? Mia Rossi? Why would you come back now? Dante's marrying Camille at the cathedral in a week.” Dante was my first love, and also the youngest heir to a mafia dynasty on this side of the Atlantic. He'd made me a promise once: that he'd make the entire Moretti family kneel and welcome me in. We had a deal: the day he officially took over as Don would be the day he married me. But his family had other plans. They arranged a match for him: Camille, a princess from one of Sicily's five great families. Pure bloodline, the genuine article. At first, Dante swore up and down she meant nothing to him. Less than nothing. Then I started noticing how he looked at her. Softer every time. Like he was falling. One night, riding home after a shift at the bar, Camille's car came out of nowhere and took me down. The gas tank caught, and half the block reeked of burning rubber and scorched metal. I was pinned under the wreckage, blood seeping from the back of my skull down my neck, warm at first, then cold. Dante was the first one there. He beat the ambulance. The first thing he did was walk past me. He crouched down, lifted Camille out of the passenger seat, and didn't look at me once, just dropped a few words over his shoulder: “I already called an ambulance. Hang tight. Camille's had too much to drink. I need to get her home.” That was the moment I was done with him. Completely, finally done. While he was gone, I discharged myself. I bought the farthest plane ticket I could find that same night and left without looking back. Five years passed. “Mia, you have no idea.” The woman grabbed my wrist, dropping her voice. “Dante spent years turning half of Europe upside down looking for you. You came back at the right time. He still keeps a seat for you every month on his birthday. Camille's too proud for a lot of things

In my last life, my sister Serena Vega ran to Monaco the night before her wedding, and my family shoved me into her dress before dawn. Damian Lucchese, the young Godfather of New York, had been waiting at the altar for her. The moment he lifted my veil and saw me instead, the warmth in his eyes went cold. For five years, I was his hidden wife. The underworld knew he was married, but no one knew to whom. My parents blamed me for stealing Serena’s place and still failing to keep his heart. Then Serena came home. That Christmas, Damian took her and my parents to his mountain estate. When a blizzard hit, his men rushed everyone onto the helicopter. No one remembered me. I died in that frozen house, three months pregnant with Damian’s child. When I opened my eyes again, Serena had just returned to New York. This time, I would not beg for love. Only when I truly walked away, none of them had the right to regret it.

Eighteen-year-old Nora was lured to an abandoned lumber mill by her stepsister, Grace, where Wade kidnapped and murdered her. After her death, Nora became a trapped spirit at Blackwood Manor and watched as her parents, Caleb and Evelyn, continued to believe Grace's lies. As Grandma Ruth, Deputy Eli, and others investigated, clues including phone records, a camellia bracelet, old injuries, and dental records gradually formed a chain of evidence, ultimately exposing the truth: Grace had orchestrated the kidnapping, while Wade had carried out the murder.

Grace, the heiress of the Murdoch Group, falls in love with Mike, a poor young man, and becomes pregnant. However, due to their differing family backgrounds, her father, Warren, disapproves of their love. When Mike nearly dies trying to save Grace's life, Warren lies to Grace, claiming that Mike and their son died in a car accident. Years later, Grace encounters Mike's son, who is begging someone to save his dying father. The two of them don't recognize each other, and it gets to the point where Grace begins accusing the young boy of theft and fraud, but following a series of unfortunate events, Grace finally realizes the boy is actually her son. However, in the meantime, Mike goes missing after pushed off a cliff on Warren's orders...

At twenty, Elena overheard a conversation between her stepbrother and secret lover, Luca Moretti, and his men, learning that his five-year pursuit of her had been nothing but a scheme to take revenge on her mother, Grace. She fled in her car, only to die in a crash—and miraculously wake up five years in the past. Instead of seeking revenge or confrontation, the reborn Elena quietly made arrangements to study abroad, planning to leave Chicago for London within four days. She left a farewell letter beneath Luca's pillow. When Luca discovered she had left, he raced to the airport—but was caught in a devastating crash that left him paralyzed from the neck down. Lying in his hospital bed, he read Elena's letter and finally realized he had been wrong all along: Grace had never destroyed his family; she had always genuinely treated him as her own son. Six years later, Elena had completed her studies in London, married the kind and steady Caspar Ross, and had a daughter, Philippa. Though Luca had recovered enough to move about in a wheelchair, when he came face to face with Elena and her family—witnessing their happiness—he understood with painful clarity that he had lost her forever.

I died on the day I was supposed to receive the Pack’s Distinguished Service Award. Three hours after I died, my parents, my brother, and my mate were just wrapping up the graduation party they’d thrown for my sister. While my sister, Ella, was posting a cozy family photo on Instagram, I was locked in our basement, using my tongue to swipe on my phone and call for help. The only person who answered was my mate, Ryan. All he said was, "Sophie, cut the drama. Ella's graduation party is important. Enough with the tantrums!" This was the ninety-ninth time they had let me down. And the last. I lay in a pool of my own blood, my lungs still. They thought I was just throwing a fit, hiding somewhere. That if they taught me a lesson, I’d come crawling back. But they didn't know. I was home the whole time. I was already dead.

I died on the day I was supposed to receive the Pack’s Distinguished Service Award. Three hours after I died, my parents, my brother, and my mate were just wrapping up the graduation party they’d thrown for my sister. While my sister, Ella, was posting a cozy family photo on Instagram, I was locked in our basement, using my tongue to swipe on my phone and call for help. The only person who answered was my mate, Ryan. All he said was, "Sophie, cut the drama. Ella's graduation party is important. Enough with the tantrums!" This was the ninety-ninth time they had let me down. And the last. I lay in a pool of my own blood, my lungs still. They thought I was just throwing a fit, hiding somewhere. That if they taught me a lesson, I’d come crawling back. But they didn't know. I was home the whole time. I was already dead.

In a devastating fire, a stepmother and her stepdaughter become trapped in an elevator, and Evelyn sacrifices her life in a desperate attempt to save Heidi. Unbeknownst to her husband, Vincent Clarke, Evelyn's tragic death occurs while he stands by the side of Heidi's biological mother, Fiona Lawson. Grief-stricken, Heidi cries out, "I only have one mother, her name is Evelyn Glover!"

I died on the day I was supposed to receive the Pack’s Distinguished Service Award. Three hours after I died, my parents, my brother, and my mate were just wrapping up the graduation party they’d thrown for my sister. While my sister, Ella, was posting a cozy family photo on Instagram, I was locked in our basement, using my tongue to swipe on my phone and call for help. The only person who answered was my mate, Ryan. All he said was, "Sophie, cut the drama. Ella's graduation party is important. Enough with the tantrums!" This was the ninety-ninth time they had let me down. And the last. I lay in a pool of my own blood, my lungs still. They thought I was just throwing a fit, hiding somewhere. That if they taught me a lesson, I’d come crawling back. But they didn't know. I was home the whole time. I was already dead.