/0/81137/coverbig.jpg?v=a02e47e190640de3bcc36ba2074aff7d)
My summer holiday at our Hamptons estate started like any other, quiet and peaceful. Then, a sleek black SUV pulled up, and my world began to unravel. Out stepped Ethan Vance, our estate manager's son, a quiet boy I' d grown up with, but now he was radiating an unsettling arrogance, accompanied by a woman I didn' t recognize. Suddenly, obnoxious social media comments flashed across my vision, overlaid on reality itself. "OMG, Ethan & Chloe, the power couple, are finally reunited! Ash better not get in their way this time!" Another popped up: "Ash is so gonna be the jealous villainess again, lol." Ethan then delivered his shocking demands: Chloe would stay in my favorite Azure Suite, and I was to pull strings for her big Hollywood audition. His voice dripped with condescension as he announced, "My heart belongs to her," then chillingly warned he might "let my family off easy" if I complied. The comments revealed a horrific truth: a "previous life," a "web-drama" where Ethan had used me, married me, and destroyed my family to be with Chloe. I, Ashley Miller, was merely the "jealous, overbearing heiress" destined for total ruin. My mind reeled. Villainess? Use my money? Dump me? This wasn't a hallucination; it was a script they expected me to follow, a pre-ordained triumph. But the sheer audacity, the contempt in his voice, ignited a fierce, unyielding fury within me. They expected a lovesick fool, a doormat. I wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of that ending. I raised my hand and slapped Ethan across the face. This was my story to write, and their script was about to be shredded.