Blurb：
**A second chance to burn their world first.**
Trapped in a fiery death orchestrated by her psychopathic brother **Maxwell Lowell**, **Morgan Lowell** awakens as her childhood self, vowing to dismantle the **Lowell dynasty** from within. This time, she’ll weaponize their greed—starting with manipulating her tyrannical **grandfather Walter Lowell** and shrewd **grandmother Beatrice Lowell**—to protect her mother **Katherine** and sabotage the premature birth of the "miracle heir" destined to become a monster.
But playing the **Lowell family’s** game means walking a razor’s edge. Morgan must:
Exploit Walter’s fanatical belief in **Maxwell’s "divine luck"** to fund her mother’s escape from abuse
Pit **David Lowell’s** infidelity against Beatrice’s obsession with dynastic legacy
Watch her mother’s heart break as **Maxwell** morphs into a vicious, entitled demon under their grandparents’ influence
Unearth buried **Lowell secrets** that could collapse their empire—or get Morgan killed again
**Perfect for fans of:** Ruthless heroines, generational trauma, and intricate family sagas where **dark romance** meets **psychological warfare**.
Content：
§PROLOGUEThe fire was a hungry beast, and it was eating my world alive.
Smoke, thick and acrid, clawed at my throat, a predator strangling me from the inside out.
My lungs screamed for air they couldn't find.
Heat pressed in from all sides, a physical weight, melting my skin, boiling my tears before they could fall.
Through the roaring symphony of destruction, I heard my mother's weak cough from the other side of the room, followed by a choked whisper.
"Morgan… run…"
But there was nowhere to run.
The door was a wall of flame.
The windows had shattered, feeding the inferno with greedy gulps of oxygen.
I saw him then, a silhouette standing in the doorway, framed by the very fire he had set.
My brother.
Maxwell.
His face was illuminated by the destructive glow, his expression one of pure, ecstatic triumph.
He believed he was purging the unworthy, the obstacles to his golden inheritance.
He believed he was a god, passing judgment.
And in my final, suffocating moments, a single, agonizing thought consumed me.
It was all my fault.
I had supported my mother’s defiance.
I had encouraged her to stand up to them, to fight for what was right.
I thought it was courage.
It was a death sentence.
If only I had another chance.
If only I could go back to that day, in that hospital room, when it all began.
I wouldn't be brave.
I would be smart.
I would burn their world down before they ever had the chance to light a match in mine.
The darkness took me, cradled in a final, silent promise.
§01
"She's being selfish, David! Utterly selfish!"
The voice, sharp and imperious, sliced through the fog in my mind.
Beatrice Lowell.
My grandmother.
"Your father is on his deathbed. All he wants is to see his grandson. Is that too much to ask? A simple C-section?"
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The End