CHAPTER 70: CHAPTER SEVENTY

That was the single, most important fact of the entire, disastrous day. The trap had been set, the bait—Lily, her past, her tragic, fated death—had been perfectly placed. And Marissa, the "all-seeing, all-knowing" sister, had not taken it. She had not come running.

That means she wasn’t reborn.

The realization was a huge, physical weight lifting from her shoulders. She stopped walking for a moment, leaning against a cold, stone wall, a slow, deep, shuddering breath of pure relief escaping her lips.

All her recent failures... the scene in the courtyard, the fight with Lorena, the poison plot... they weren’t because Marissa was a fellow "reborn" person, an equal in this secret game. They were just... luck. Marissa was just a different person this time. Colder. Harder. Luckier.

"I was too impatient before," Ashlyn whispered to the dark, empty street, her steps becoming more confident as she began to walk again. "I suffered a few losses because I was careless. I was afraid of her. I thought she was like me."

But that fear was gone. She was the only one.

"I will use what I have learned in my past life," she vowed, her voice a low, confident hum. "I will plan carefully. I know the future. I know who truly wins, and who truly loses. I will turn everything around."

She was the only one who knew what was coming. And that, she thought, made her invincible.

High above, on a dark, wrought-iron balcony of a respectable-looking building across the street, Marissa watched. She watched Ashlyn emerge from the Red Lantern Den, a small, dark, cloaked figure. She watched her stand for a moment, and she watched her finally walk away, her step, even from this distance, looking more confident, more relieved, than it had a right to be.

A small, cold smile touched Marissa’s lips.

She remembered, with perfect clarity, the events of an hour ago.

~ • FLASHBACK : One Hour Prior • ~

Marissa had run through the streets, her heart a cold, frantic drumbeat of terror. She had arrived at the Red Lantern Den, the memory of Lily’s broken body a vivid, horrifying image in her mind. She had put her hand on the filthy, scarred front door, ready to push it open, ready to charge in and save her...

And then she had stopped. Her hand hovered, inches from the wood.

Wait.

Her mind, which had been a fog of panic and deja vu, suddenly, brilliantly, cleared. Times are different now, she thought, her breath catching. In my last life, Lily was desperate. She was a simple maid with a tiny stipend. She had no money, no power. Of course she was forced to come here.

But this time...

I am the Grand Duchess. I hold the household authority. The first thing I did was raise the wages for all my personal staff, to ensure their loyalty.

Lily’s monthly stipend is more than three times what it was in my past life.

The logic was cold, sharp, and undeniable. She has money. She wouldn’t be forced to the gambling house this time. Her brother’s debt... it wouldn’t be this urgent. She would have come to me first. She would have trusted me to help.

Marissa pulled her hand back from the door as if it were on fire. This isn’t real. This isn’t fate repeating itself. This is a trap. Someone is using Lily as bait. Ashlyn.

Her terror vanished, replaced by a cold, calculating fury. Ashlyn wanted her to run in, screaming, panicked, and creating a scene. She wanted to prove Marissa was "reborn."

You want me to come to this building, sister? Fine. A new, far more brilliant plan formed. She knew from her last life that Carlos was the one with the real, ruinous gambling problem, a secret he had hidden well. You set a trap for me. I’ll use it to set one for your husband.

A carriage, moving with a speed that was almost reckless, clattered to a halt on the cobblestones just behind her. Derek got out, his face a mask of thunder.

"Ian told me to meet you here!" he growled, his voice a low, furious command. He was clearly enraged at being summoned and she could see another emotion looking like worry which she thought was a trick of the light. "I had to leave a meeting with my informants. He said it was important. What happened?"

Marissa composed her face.

"Your Grace," she said, her voice low and serious, as if she were sharing a terrible secret. "I believe I have found a problem. A large, steady outflow of silver from the household accounts. I’ve been tracking it, and I suspect someone in our family is... gambling away money. Using the Thompson seal to secure credit."

Derek’s fury at her instantly transformed into a new, colder fury at this information. "Gambling?" he growled.

Marissa nodded, gesturing to the garish, red-lit building. "The trail led here. But, Your Grace... I am just a woman. And a noblewoman at that. I... I cannot go into such a place. It would bring shame to our entire family." She looked at him, her eyes wide with a perfect, calculated trust.

"Please, Your Grace. You are the only one who can go in and check. You must see if the Thompson name is being dragged through the mud."

He bought it. Completely.

"I’ll handle it," he said, his voice a cold, hard promise. He turned and strode into the gambling den, his two guards following him like shadows.

In some minutes, Ian came with a report. " Your Grace, Lily is safe at the estate now. I have also settled the debt payment and punished the men who hurt her."

Marissa smiled. " Thank you so much, Ian."

~ • FLASHBACK ENDS • ~

Marissa stood on the balcony, the cold air feeling good on her face. She watched Ashlyn’s small, self-satisfied figure finally disappear around a dark corner.

A cold, victorious smile played on her lips.

"After this test," she whispered to the empty air, "you are now certain I’m not reborn. You think I am just a simple, lucky fool who didn’t take your bait."

She looked up at the sky, the sun descending, painting the sky in orange hues.

"From now on, little sister, you are in the open. You will be overconfident. You will believe you are the only one who knows the future. And I... I will be in the shadows, watching you. The battle ahead will be interesting."

She turned and left the balcony.

"You provoke me once, and I will repay you ten folds."