Aliya’s POV

After a long-ass shower and what felt like a decade of relentless scrubbing, I finally stepped out of the bath, feeling squeaky clean—after an intense day.

As I massaged scented glowing oil into my skin, I paused to stare into the mirror. The woman who gazed back at me wasn’t Aliya Van Alen—not the one I remembered, anyway.

She looked…hollow and broken. A revenge-hungry shell of the girl who once believed in forever. But this version of me had one mission left. And no matter how long it took or what it demanded, she was going to finish what she started.

Let’s just say, I was doing this...