Evelyn Grant and Sebastian Stone were the most infamous toxic couple in high society. In their first year of marriage, he took a rising model to a luxury hotel. She retaliated by smashing his limited-edition Ferrari. The following winter, he locked her in a freezer room at minus twenty degrees. She promptly pushed him into a frozen swimming pool. On their third anniversary, he deliberately skipped it to vacation abroad. She chartered a private jet, chased him down, and dragged him home in front of the media. Everyone said they were sworn enemies in a past life, destined to torment each other in this one. Until the fifth year, when Evelyn actually died. On her twenty-eighth birthday, a masked intruder broke into their villa and stabbed her thirty-three times. Blood gushed from the wounds as Evelyn collapsed, her vision blurring. "Sebastian..." With trembling hands, she grabbed her fallen phone and dialed the memorized number over and over with bloodied fingers. On the seventh attempt, the call finally connected. "Evelyn, are you done yet?" Sebastian's icy voice cut through. "Isabella's returning today. I don’t have time for your theatrics." "Sebastian, I—" "Enough!" He hung up and powered off. Evelyn stared at the darkened screen, blood trickling from her lips. "I'm dying... This time... I won’t bother you anymore..." The phone slipped from her hand as her pupils dilated. When she opened her eyes again, she stood on a stone bridge. Below flowed the blood-yellow River of Forgetfulness, its surface choked with struggling souls. "Drink this, and forget your past," God offered a murky bowl. Evelyn downed it in one gulp. Yet her memories grew sharper. She drank nine more bowls—still remembering Sebastian’s loathing gaze. "Such stubborn attachment," God sighed. "You have five days. If you can make Sebastian Stone say 'I love you,' you may return to life." Evelyn laughed bitterly. How could the man who despised her ever say those words? Darkness swallowed her. When she awoke, she was back in the villa’s living room. Her corpse still lay on the floor, the blood long dried. Suppressing her horror, Evelyn dragged the body into the walk-in closet and hid it. Just as she wiped away the last bloodstain, the front door swung open. Sebastian strode in, impeccably dressed, followed by Isabella Moore in a white dress. "Evelyn?" Sebastian frowned. "What the hell are you doing?" Isabella suddenly shrieked, stumbling back. "Blood... so much blood..." Sebastian steadied her, then glared at Evelyn. "What kind of sick game is this?" Evelyn met his gaze. "Sebastian, say 'I love you.'" The air turned to ice. Isabella’s nails dug into Sebastian’s arm, her face ghostly pale.