Beyond the Family's Shadow

Ever since she was two, Elara Vane became her twin sister's personal blood bank after the girl was diagnosed with a rare genetic defect.

Doctors predicted her sister wouldn't live past eighteen, so her parents and brother doted on her, putting her first in everything.

They even blamed Elara, accusing her of "stealing" her sister's nutrients in the womb, claiming it made her sickly.

In her past life, no one in the family loved her.

Only her fiancé, Dante, truly stayed by her side.

But Elara never expected Dante's love had its own agenda.

Until her sister accidentally fell off a cliff and needed a full blood transfusion.

Dante signed the consent form without hesitation, sending her to the operating table to be the donor.

As her blood drained and her consciousness faded, Elara swore that in another life, she would never be her sister's blood bag again!

The next time she opened her eyes, she was back to the day after her engagement to Dante...

The first thing Elara Vane did after her rebirth was buy a one-way ticket out, costing a cool hundred mil.

"Deal's done."

Watching the green figures flicker on the encrypted screen, Elara Vane felt a jolt she hadn't felt in years.

This was the payoff for three years in the underground black market, slaving as a ghost artist, fueled by countless sleepless nights and paint she could never scrub off.

In her last life, she’d died with that money still burning a hole in her pocket.

This time, it wasn't just numbers; it was her escape card.

A pop-up blinked in the corner of the screen:

"Destination: Private Island 'Sanctuary'.

Owner: Julian Thorne.

Confirm one-way ticket?"

Julian Thorne.

The name was whispered in the New York underworld, a curse uttered in hushed tones.

The Godfather who held the East Coast shipping lanes in his fist, a tyrant with zero mercy.

But to Elara, he was her lifeline.

She’d saved his life once, a chance encounter, and in return, he’d offered her sanctuary, no questions asked, anytime.

Back then, she’d thought she was happy, never needing to cash that favor in.

Now, she took a deep breath, staring into the mirror.

Pale, gaunt, with shadows under her eyes that wouldn't fade, like a porcelain doll on the verge of shattering.

But she knew.

Beneath this frail shell was a rage that could burn the world down.

This time, she wasn't Elara Vane anymore.

Not the ghost haunting the Vane family, less than a servant.

Not the walking blood bag, existing only to serve their precious Serena.

This damn life? She was finished.

"CRASH!"

The heavy oak studio door splintered inward with brutal force, the lock groaning.

Dante Rossi stormed in.

He wore an expensive, custom-made suit, tie askew, smelling of whiskey and that sickly sweet perfume Serena always wore.

He didn't spare a glance at Elara's finished painting.

He just blurted, "Serena collapsed at the party.Now.You're coming with me, immediately."

No greeting, no explanation, not