The research institute exploded. Without hesitation, my brother—the institute's director—and my ex-fiancé, the lead researcher, grabbed Lola Jenkins and fled. I was blown to pieces, alive until the very end. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day the institute was founded. In my past life, I'd bent over backward for my ex-fiancé. In return, he'd grown so disgusted with me that he filed a harassment complaint. My brother had always looked down on me, too. "All you do is leech off the family," he'd sneer. "You'll never measure up to someone self-made like Lola." Now, they both stood firmly at her side, building an empire for her. My brother poured money into her projects. My ex-fiancé shielded her reputation. Overnight, everyone hailed Lola as the next research prodigy. Utterly broken, I vanished, joining a new lab and disappearing from public view. Five years later, Lola had become the hottest name in domestic research. I received an invitation to a high-profile gala in her honor. My ex-fiancé sneered when he saw me. "I never thought that after dumping me, you'd sink so low that you couldn't even qualify as a nobody researcher. You're a disgrace to the Dawson family's name." My brother's face twisted in contempt. "I wondered what you'd turned into after you left. Guess I was right—waste is waste." I arched a brow and walked onstage with my husband to present Lola her award. The sight of us sent both men stumbling backward, nearly collapsing to the floor. ... "Lola is the youngest research genius we've ever seen," a guest gushed. "In just three years, she's developed seven new drugs and cracked diseases that stumped us for decades. Her future? Limitless." "Such a shame she's already taken," another sighed. "If I had a shot, I'd fight for her—think of the genes!" "Don't even dream it. Word is, tonight's gala isn't just about awards. The Lincolne family's heir plans to propose to her right here." I stood in the banquet hall, listening as Lola Jenkins was praised by every tongue in the room. No one noticed me as I drifted toward the food tables. Before I could sit, a sharp, venomous voice cut through the air. "Clara, why are you following me again? Can't you take a hint? Wherever I go, you show up like a ghost!" "This event didn't invite you. Who did you beg to get in? You're embarrassing the Dawsons." I lifted my gaze. Brock Lincolne—my ex-fiancé—glared down at me, his jaw tight with irritation. "I'm not following you," I said evenly. I raised a hand to explain, but he jerked his chin up, seething. "Why do you keep buzzing around like a damn fly? You vanish for years, then pop up the second you hear I'm proposing to Lola?" "I'm warning you," he hissed. "If you cause a scene tonight, I swear I'll make you regret ever being born." My half-drawn invitation hung awkwardly in the air. I wanted to speak, to clarify—but the crowd surged forward, shoving me right against Brock. "Mr. Lincolne!" a reporter called out. "Is it true you'll propose to Ms. Jenkins tonight? She's every young man's dream. How does it feel to marry someone so brilliant?" "Perfect match, if you ask me!" another chimed in. Cameras flashed from the shadows. I ducked my head, trying to slip away—but it was too late. They'd already caught me. "You'll find out soon enough," Brock snapped, his eyes flicking toward me with icy disdain. Whispers rippled through the crowd. "Isn't that his ex-fiancée? Heard she went crazy trying to win him back—sent gifts, threw drone shows, even proposed to Mr. Lincolne. What's she doing here? Trying to steal the proposal?" "She's pathetic. Lola's in another league. Clara's just a joke." Reporters swiveled their lenses toward me. I covered my face and waved them off. "It's a misunderstanding. That chapter's closed. I'm here as an invited guest—not for any of the reasons you're imagining." I pushed through the crowd, but Brock scoffed. "Oh, please. 'Invited'? Clara, be real. You think you belong at this event? You've got no place here." "Everywhere I go, you magically appear. Your intentions are obvious, so drop the act." His voice rose, cold and sharp. "If you dare cross Lola tonight, I'll make sure you wish you'd never been born."