I stood in that corridor at the Plaza Hotel, my engagement ring heavy on my finger, and heard the man I loved call me "convenient."

Just another asset to acquire. Another problem Marcus Hale could "handle."

Six hours later, my car plunged off the Manhattan Bridge into the freezing East River.

My fiancé didn't even try to save me. My own sister helped plan it. And Manhattan's elite? They attended my memorial service in designer black, already calculating how to divide my father's media empire.

But here's the thing about drowning sometimes you survive.

I should have died that night. The water filled my lungs. My bones shattered against steel. Everything I was, everything I'd been, sank into the darkness of the East River.

Instead, I woke up with a stranger's face.

Three years. That's how long it took me to transform from Vivienne Sterling, daddy's naive little heiress, into Victoria Sinclair, the British venture capitalist no one saw coming. Three years of surgical reconstruction, forged credentials, and cold, calculated planning.

Now I'm back in Manhattan. Walking into their boardrooms. Dismantling their empires. Watching them smile and shake my hand, completely unaware that the woman they murdered is standing right in front of them.

Dominic Ashford built his fortune on my corpse, I'm taking it back, piece by piece.

Isla Sterling, my treacherous half-sister, wanted everything I had she can have my revenge instead.

Marcus Hale orchestrated it all from the shadows but even shadows can't hide from a ghost with nothing left to lose.

They thought they buried me.

They have no idea they created something far more dangerous: a dead woman with a brilliant mind, unlimited resources, and absolutely nothing to lose.

Grab your copy of Vows Built on Deceit today and discover what happens when a woman who's supposed to be dead decides she's not finished living or fighting or winning.