Two days later, the mansion buzzed with activity. The usually cold and silent halls of the Cross estate were suddenly alive with footsteps, chatter, and the faint scent of cinnamon and roses. Aria stood near the stairs, her eyes narrowing slightly as she watched the servants rush to prepare for her the formidable Grandma Eleanor Cross.

She smiled faintly.

She remembered that woman warm yet sharp, the only one who had ever dared to scold Damian Cross without fear.

In her past life, Aria had always shied away from Eleanor, too timid, too desperate to please Damian and his world.

But this time?

She’d meet her head-on, bold and unflinching....