PROLOGUE

Death came quietly.

No thunder. No dramatic crash. Just the soft hum of hospital machines and the slow, aching suffocation in her chest.

Anaya Mehra lay on the narrow bed, IV lines tangled around her fragile arms. The white ceiling above her was stained with tiny cracks—like a broken future she kept trying not to look at.

Twenty-four years old.

Orphaned at twelve.

Crushed by debt at twenty.

And now—dying.

She laughed weakly.

“So this is how it ends…”

Outside the glass window, the city glittered shamelessly. Lights danced. Cars moved. Lovers laughed. Life went on as if she had never existed.

Her phone buzzed weakly beside her pillow.

A message from the landlord.

“Hospital bills or eviction. Your choice.”

She closed her eyes.

Even at the edge of death… the world still wanted rent.

Her heartbeat slowed.

The nurse had already given up on her. The doctor had quietly whispered the word terminal an hour ago.

Anaya felt something cold slide down her temple.

A tear.

“I… worked so hard…”

Three jobs. No sleep. No dreams. No love.

Just survival.

And she still lost.

Her vision dimmed.

The heartbeat monitor flatlined into one long, merciless sound—

BEEEEEEEEEP

Darkness swallowed her.

Then—

[SYSTEM ACTIVATED]

A sharp electric jolt slammed through her consciousness.

Anaya gasped.

Her lungs burned as if filled with fire. She sucked in air violently, choking as brightness stabbed into her eyes.

She wasn’t in the hospital anymore.

She was lying on a carpet.

A soft one.

Silk.

The room smelled of money.

Her fingers trembled as she pushed herself up. Before her stood a massive floor-to-ceiling mirror.

The girl staring back…

Was still her.

But younger. Healthier. Alive.

Her skin glowed. Her eyes were bright. No needles. No scars. No weakness.

Her breath turned uneven.

“Am… I alive?”

A cold mechanical voice echoed inside her mind.

[Host identified: Anaya Mehra]

[Age Reset: 22]

[Timeline: Reverted 3 Years]

Her legs gave out. She collapsed onto the bed behind her.

“Time… reversed?”

[Marriage Salvation System Initiated]

Her blood ran cold.

[Target Identified: Aarav Singhania]

[Status: Terminally Ill]

[Remaining Lifespan Without Intervention: 6 Months]

Aarav Singhania.

The ruthless billionaire heir.

The man feared by businessmen and politicians alike.

The coldest heart in the corporate world.

[If Host Marries Target → Host Gains Wealth, Security, New Life]

[If Target Marries Host → Target Gains Life Force, Extended Survival]

Her lips parted in disbelief.

“So… I survive by marrying a dying man.”

Silence.

Then—

[Contract Must Be Fulfilled in 7 Days]

[Failure \= Permanent Death]

Her heart slammed violently.

Seven days.

No escape.

No refusal.

Only fate.

Anaya looked down at her trembling hands.

For the first time in her life…

She had bargaining power.

Far away, in a top-floor ICU protected by armed guards—

A man lay still.

Monitors surrounded him. The air smelled of sterilized despair.

Aarav Singhania hadn’t moved in three days.

The man nicknamed “The Living Dead.”

Doctors had given up.

His family had prepared for a funeral.

And then—

His fingers twitched.

Eyes snapped open.

A sharp inhale tore from his chest.

The monitors exploded into frantic beeping.

Inside his mind—

[Marriage Survival System Activated]

[Target Located: Anaya Mehra]

Aarav’s pale lips curved into a faint, shocked smile.

“So…”

“…my life depends on marriage?”

He laughed weakly.

For the first time in years—

Hope entered a dying man’s body.

And somewhere in the city…

A girl marked by fate had just been reborn to become his wife.

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