The champagne reception was in full swing by the time we arrived at the Black family estate. The same grand ballroom where I would die in just seven hours now sparkled with crystal chandeliers and elegant decorations, filled with the sound of polite conversation and clinking glasses. Every detail was exactly as I remembered it – the white roses, the string quartet, even the way the afternoon light filtered through the tall windows.

But I'm not the same person who enjoyed this party the first time.

Damian's hand rested possessively on the small of my back as we moved through the crowd, accepting congratulations and well-wishes from New York's most powerful families. To anyone watching, we looked like the perfect couple – the handsome billionaire and his radiant bride. But I could feel the calculated nature of his every gesture, the way he positioned us for optimal social advantage, the practiced quality of his smile.

"Evira, darling, you look absolutely stunning." The voice belonged to Alexandra Whitmore, and I felt my entire body tense as she approached. In my previous life, I had genuinely liked Alexandra – admired her business acumen, even envied her confidence. Now, seeing her predatory smile and the way her green eyes assessed me like a competitor sizing up the opposition, I wondered how I had ever been so blind.

"Alexandra." I kept my voice warm but not overly friendly. "Thank you for coming. I know how busy you must be with the Whitmore expansion into Asia."

A flicker of surprise crossed her features. In my previous life, I had never shown interest in business matters, preferring to leave such discussions to the men. But I had learned a great deal during my three years of marriage – knowledge I could now use to my advantage.

"How perceptive of you to keep track," she said, her smile sharpening. "I'm surprised Damian shares such detailed business information with you."

"My wife takes an interest in all aspects of our life together," Damian interjected smoothly, but I caught the slight tightness around his eyes. He was surprised too. Good. Let them both wonder what had changed.

"Speaking of business," Alexandra continued, her gaze never leaving my face, "I've been hoping to have a private conversation with you, Evira. Perhaps we could meet for lunch next week? There are some... opportunities I'd like to discuss."

Here it is. The first move in the game that had ultimately led to my death. In my previous life, I had agreed to this lunch out of curiosity and a desire to prove I could be more than just a decorative wife. That meeting had been photographed, recorded, and later used as evidence of my betrayal.

"How thoughtful of you," I replied carefully. "But with the honeymoon and settling into married life, I'm not sure when I'll have time for... business opportunities."

Alexandra's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. "Of course. Perhaps after you've had time to adjust to your new role."

She's not giving up that easily. I filed that information away for later use.

As Alexandra moved away, I felt Damian's grip on my waist tighten slightly. "Since when do you pay attention to international business expansion?" he asked, his voice low enough that only I could hear.

"Since I married a man whose empire spans three continents," I replied with a smile that felt more genuine than anything I'd given him so far. "I thought it might be wise to understand what I'm now part of."

He studied my face with those penetrating gray eyes, and for a moment, I saw something that looked almost like approval. "Most wives prefer to focus on charity work and social events."

"I'm not most wives."

No, you're not, his expression seemed to say, but whether that was good or bad remained to be seen.

"Damian! Congratulations, nephew." Uncle Victor appeared at our side with his characteristic warm smile, embracing Damian with what looked like genuine affection. But I could see the calculating look he gave me over Damian's shoulder – the same look a chess master might give a particularly troublesome pawn.

"Uncle Victor," I said, forcing myself to lean into his embrace when he turned to me. The scent of his expensive cologne – the same scent that had filled my nostrils as I died – made my stomach churn. "Thank you for everything you've done to make today perfect."

"Anything for family," he replied, his hands lingering on my shoulders just a moment too long. "You look radiant, my dear. Marriage suits you."

It won't suit me for much longer if you have your way.

"I was just telling Evira how pleased I am that she's taking an interest in the family business," Damian said, and I noticed how Victor's smile tightened almost imperceptibly.

"How... progressive of you, Evira. Though I hope you won't let business concerns interfere with the more traditional aspects of married life. Children, for instance." Victor's eyes glittered with malice disguised as benevolence. "The Black family line must continue, after all."

Children. Another weapon he could use against me, another way to make me seem like a threat to the family legacy. In my previous life, we had struggled with fertility issues – issues that I now suspected might not have been entirely natural.

"All in good time," I replied diplomatically. "We have plenty of years ahead of us."

If I survive the next seven hours.

"Marcus," Damian called out, and I turned to see his assistant approaching. Marcus Chen was impeccably dressed as always, his expression professionally neutral, but I caught the brief moment when his dark eyes met mine. There was something there – concern? Sympathy? Or was I seeing what I wanted to see?

"Sir, Mrs. Black," Marcus nodded respectfully. "Congratulations on your wedding. If I may, there are a few urgent matters that require your attention."

"On my wedding day?" Damian's voice carried a note of irritation. "Surely it can wait until tomorrow."

"I'm afraid not, sir. The Tokyo investors are requesting confirmation of the merger details, and there's been an... issue with the London office."

I saw Victor's eyes sharpen with interest. This is it. This is how it begins.

"What kind of issue?" Victor asked, stepping closer.

Marcus glanced between the three of us, clearly uncomfortable. "Perhaps we should discuss this privately, sir."

"Nonsense," Victor waved dismissively. "We're all family here. What's happened in London?"

"There's been a security breach," Marcus said reluctantly. "Someone accessed confidential files regarding the European expansion. IT is investigating, but preliminary findings suggest the breach came from within the company."

I felt the trap closing around me just as it had before. The same accusation, the same timing, the same concerned looks from the men who were orchestrating my downfall. But this time, I was ready.

"How terrible," I said, injecting just the right amount of concern into my voice. "I hope it wasn't anything too sensitive. The European expansion is so important to the company's future."

Both men stared at me – Damian with surprise, Victor with barely concealed suspicion.

"Since when do you know about the European expansion?" Victor asked, his voice still warm but with an underlying edge.

"Since I started paying attention to my husband's work," I replied smoothly. "I may have been focused on wedding planning these past few months, but I'm not completely oblivious to the business that supports our lifestyle."

"Of course not," Victor recovered quickly. "I just... never heard you express interest in such matters before."

Because the old Evira was exactly the naive little wife you wanted her to be.

"People change," I said with a gentle smile. "Marriage has a way of making you see things differently."

Marcus was watching this exchange with growing interest, and I caught him studying my face with new attention. He's noticing the change too. Good. Maybe I can use that.

"Well," Damian said, breaking the tension, "whatever's happened in London will have to wait. Tonight is about celebrating." He raised his champagne glass. "To new beginnings."

If only you knew how new, I thought as I clinked my glass against his.

As the evening progressed, I found myself cataloging every interaction, every gesture, every fleeting expression. Senator Harrison Ford III approached to discuss political implications of international trade agreements – conversations that in my previous life had bored me to tears but now provided valuable insight into the web of relationships surrounding the Black empire.

Ryan Sterling made his obligatory appearance, all golden charm and calculated interest. "Mrs. Black," he said, taking my hand and holding it just a moment too long. "If marriage ever becomes tedious, you know where to find me."

It was said as a joke, but I caught the serious undertone. In my previous life, his flirtation had seemed harmless, even flattering. Now I recognized it as another piece of the puzzle that would be used to frame me.

"How kind of you, Mr. Sterling," I replied with perfect politeness. "But I can't imagine ever being bored with Damian."

Liar, his smile seemed to say, but he moved on without pressing the issue.

The strangest moment came during a brief respite when Damian was pulled away for photographs with his business partners. I found myself standing alone near the terrace doors, watching the sun begin to set over the gardens. The same gardens where, in another timeline, they would find my "suicide note" tomorrow morning.

"You seem different tonight."

I turned to find Marcus Chen standing nearby, holding two glasses of champagne. He offered me one with a small smile that seemed more genuine than most I'd received tonight.

"Different how?" I asked, accepting the glass and studying his face.

"More... present, I suppose. Usually at these social events, you look like you'd rather be anywhere else. Tonight, you're watching everything, everyone. Like you're seeing it all for the first time."

Perceptive. Very perceptive. Marcus had always been Damian's most trusted advisor, but I had never paid much attention to him before. Now I wondered if that had been a mistake.

"Maybe I am seeing it for the first time," I said carefully. "Marriage changes your perspective on things."

"Does it?" He took a sip of his champagne, his dark eyes never leaving my face. "Or do you simply stop pretending to be someone you're not?"

The question hung in the air between us, loaded with implications I wasn't sure how to interpret. Did he know something? Suspect something? Or was he simply more observant than I had given him credit for?

"I should get back to my husband," I said finally.

"Of course." Marcus nodded politely. "Mrs. Black? If you ever need anything – anything at all – please don't hesitate to ask. I've always believed in doing what's right, regardless of the consequences."

As he walked away, I felt a spark of hope for the first time since my rebirth. Maybe I won't have to fight this battle alone after all.

The clock on the mantle showed 8:30 PM. Three hours until my scheduled death. Three hours to change everything.