The Miner's Daughter Takes Manhattan

Chapter 1

On the eve of my twentieth birthday, my father spread four gilded dossiers in front of me.

"Choose one," he said, tapping the desk lightly.

"The heirs of the Four Great Houses—all are potential candidates for your arranged marriage."

I glanced at the names, all too familiar, before my gaze settled on one: Sebastian Pierce.

"Him."

My father's teacup nearly slipped from his hand.

Everyone in the Hawthorne family knew I'd been obsessed with Vincent Crawford since I was fifteen, relentlessly pursuing him.

What they didn't know was that I had already lived this life once before.

In my past life, I married Vincent, just as I'd always dreamed—only to hear him tell me the very next day: "Rosalie is the one I love. Our marriage will be nothing more than a formality."

When Rosalie disappeared, leaving behind only a letter, Vincent was convinced I had orchestrated it.

From that moment on, he became more cruel, parading a new mistress before me every week—each one eerily resembling her.

And on the day he took control of the Hawthorne Group, I died in a meticulously planned car accident.

"Are you sure about the Pierces?" my father asked again, his voice tinged with doubt.

"Absolutely."

The moment the word left my lips, my phone buzzed.

Vincent Crawford's name flashed across the screen.

I declined the call without hesitation.

The lights of the London auction house dazzled as I entered.

"Well, if it isn't Miss Hawthorne," came a mocking voice behind me. "Did you follow Vincent all the way here?"

Vincent stood with a group of young elites, a scowl on his face.

"What are you doing here?" His tone was impatient. "Haven't you embarrassed yourself enough in Northcrest?"

In my past life, those words would've crushed me. Now, they only amused me.

"Buying a birthday gift," I replied, not even bothering to look up.

"What, does London belong to you?" he sneered.

A silence settled over the room.

Vincent froze for a moment, clearly caught off guard.

Then, his friends began to murmur.

"Did you hear? Old Man Hawthorne's will says Evelyn has to choose a marriage partner by twenty!"

"The Four Great Houses owe their rise to the Hawthornes. This is practically a royal decree!"

Vincent's lashes flickered. That look—I recognized it. He was secretly thrilled.

"Looks like Vincent's about to hit the jackpot!" someone laughed.

"Don't forget us when you're on top!" another chimed in.

Vincent forced a composed smile.

"I'll respect Mr. Hawthorne's decision," he said smoothly.

Then, lowering his voice, he leaned toward me.

"On our wedding day, I will bring Rosalie into the household. If you object, I'll cancel the marriage."

My heart sank.

He'd been reborn too.

"Vincent..." A fragile voice interrupted.

Rosalie stepped forward, her face pale.

"I was afraid Miss Hawthorne might misunderstand, so I came to explain—"

"Unnecessary," Vincent cut her off, pulling her behind him as he sneered at me.

"There's nothing between us."

At the auction, Vincent splurged on three pieces of jewelry, earning delighted smiles from Rosalie.

Then, at the very end, the auctioneer unveiled an antique ring.

My heart skipped a beat.

"One hundred million," Vincent called out without hesitation.

"Pounds," he added, throwing me a challenging look.

Rosalie kissed him, excited.

"My apologies, Mr. Crawford," the auctioneer said smoothly.

"This is a private collection of Mr. Hawthorne's, reserved exclusively as Miss Hawthorne's birthday gift."

"Why?!" Rosalie shrieked.

A staff member presented the ring to me with reverence.

"Mr. Hawthorne said none of the earlier pieces were worthy of you."

Vincent tightened his arm around Rosalie's waist, his eyes dark.

"Evelyn, if you target Rosalie again, I will reject this marriage."

I traced the ring's intricate design and laughed softly.

"Who said I was choosing you?"