I buried my mother on a Tuesday.

I came home Friday.

My husband didn't hug me. He slid a piece of paper across the marble island.

An itemized bill. For $10,000.

In my own house.

"You were gone three weeks, Emma." Brandon's tone was clipped, like he was reviewing a vendor contract. "The household didn't pause just because you did. Your share of expenses, plus the extra labor Mom took on while you were... away."

Away. At my mother's hospice bed. Holding her hand while she stopped breathing.

I looked down at the paper. His mother's handwriting—neat, deliberate, proud of itself.

Household contribution arrears: $5,500. Domestic labor performed by Patricia (cooking, cleaning, errands): $150/day x 21 days. Utilities surcharge. Emotional disruption fee. TOTAL DUE: $10,000.

Emotional disruption fee.

I read it three times, waiting for it to turn into a joke.

I looked at Patricia, my mother-in-law, perched on the couch with her tea. The woman whose heart surgery I'd paid for. The woman who called me the daughter I never had.

She sighed, long-suffering. "Emma, sweetheart, this family runs on fairness. Everyone contributes. You can't expect to disappear for a month and have a free ride."

A free ride.

I pay the mortgage on this house. Every month. $5,000, auto-deducted from my salary. I paid for the renovation—every tile, every light fixture, every inch of that marble island Brandon was leaning on like he owned the world.

I turned to my sister-in-law, Chloe, curled in the armchair scrolling her phone. Twenty-six years old, living here rent-free for two years. She didn't even look up.

"Honestly, Em, don't make it weird," she said. "Even married couples should keep clean books. You stayed gone. You pay."

I waited for Brandon to laugh. To tell me grief had made me hallucinate.

He held my gaze and said, "It's not personal. It's just fair."

Eight years of marriage. The man who once drove four hours in a snowstorm because I sounded sad on the phone. The man who promised my mother—promised her, at our wedding—that I would never carry anything alone again.

That man was looking at me like a landlord looks at a late tenant.

Something inside me went very, very quiet.

"Okay," I said.

Brandon blinked. Patricia's teacup paused halfway to her lips. Even Chloe looked up.

I pulled out my phone and transferred $10,000 to Brandon's account, right there, standing in my funeral clothes with my dead mother's perfume still on my collar.

His phone chimed. The tension dissolved into smiles.

"See?" Patricia beamed, patting his arm. "I told you she'd be reasonable."

They didn't waste a minute. By that evening, Chloe had booked it: five nights in Aspen. A "family decompression trip"—their words—because apparently my absence had been so stressful for them.

Funded entirely by my $10,000.

The next morning I stood at the window and watched them load matching luggage into Brandon's SUV. The SUV I co-signed for. Patricia laughed at something Chloe said. Brandon honked twice, cheerfully, the way he used to when we left for our honeymoon.

Nobody asked if I wanted to come.

Nobody asked how the funeral was.

They pulled out of the driveway glowing, three happy people off to spend a dead woman's daughter's money on heated pools and rib-eye.

I stood in the house I had built with my own hands and my own paychecks, and I felt the grief inside me harden into something else. Something cold. Something with edges.

They thought they'd be coming home to their beautiful house.

They had no idea what would be waiting for them.

Chapter 2: What I Paid For

Here's what they conveniently forgot while they were drafting my invoice.

When Brandon inherited this house from his grandmother, it was a gutted shell. Rotted floors. Dead wiring. A kitchen from 1974. He stood in the wreckage of it and almost cried, because he couldn't afford to fix a single room.

I could. Barely.

I'd been saving since my first job—my "someday" fund. I emptied it. $238,000. I managed every contractor, compared every faucet, drove to three states for the right floorboards. I worked sixty-hour weeks and spent my weekends covered in paint samples.

The day it was finished, Brandon stood in the living room with tears in his eyes and said, "You didn't just build a house, Em. You built us. Everything I have is yours."

The deed stayed in his name. "Simpler for taxes," he said. "What's mine is yours anyway."

I believed him. God help me, I believed him.

Then came the mortgage on the addition, the one he insisted on so his mother could move in. $5,000 a month. He was "between promotions." I set up the auto-payment from my salary. Temporary, he said.

That was two years ago. It never stopped.

Chapter 1

"Alright! Anyone who's been a homewrecker—DRINK UP!"

Truth or dare. Someone shoves a drink forward.

Nobody moves.

Then Finn's "girl bro" Nora slides a glass toward ME. Grinning.

"Actually, Finn and I got married a year ago. So technically? You're the homewrecker. Come on, bottoms up."

My hands shake. I look at him.

Waiting for him to say something. Anything.

Finn just shrugs.

"Lost a dare. We went and signed papers. Figured we'd undo it someday."

"Then one night we hooked up. Her parents were on her case about marriage, so I just... stayed married. Easier that way."

"But babe, relax. Nora and I are just bros. YOU'RE the one I love."

Amazing.

I just stare at him.

Feel like someone just ripped my lungs out. Can't breathe.

Finn pinches my cheek. Smiles like none of this matters.

"Wedding's still happening next month. She gets the certificate. You get the ceremony. Win-win, right?"

Eight years. Gone.

I don't cry. Just pull out my phone.

Text my dad:

"I'll do the arranged marriage."

---

"Come on, Summer—drink it. What, you scared or something?"

Nora's right in my face with the glass, looking way too happy about this.

Everyone starts going crazy.

"Yeah! They're actually married—so drink up!"

They're all staring at me like I'm some kind of joke.

Finn's friends have messed with me before.

But not like this. Not right in front of everyone.

He used to tell them to stop.

But ever since Nora came back from London? He doesn't do that anymore.

Now he just looks at me like I'm being annoying and says:

"Why are you being so dramatic? They're just messing around."

I bite my tongue. Taste blood.

Finn's sitting there with his arms crossed. Smirking.

Like he's waiting for me to just drink it and shut up.

When he sees how pale I look, he squeezes my hand.

"Babe, just drink it. Everyone's looking. Don't make it weird."

I pull my hand back.

"So you think I'm the other woman too?"

He puts his arm around me, voice all gentle.

"No one's saying that. It's just a game."

I push him away.

"Don't touch me. She's your wife."

His face changes. Now he's pissed.

"What are you so upset about? Me and Nora are friends. The marriage thing was a joke. I was helping her out with her parents. Why does it matter?"

Nora cuts in, trying to smooth things over.

"Summer, seriously. Finn and I are just friends."

Then she smiles, all innocent.

"That one time? He was so drunk he thought I was you. Guy was desperate—I could barely walk the next day. Honestly, he was terrible. If we weren't friends, I would've killed him."

She hits Finn's chest, laughing.

Finn grabs her wrist and pulls her onto his lap.

"I was terrible? You were the one wrapping your legs around me, wouldn't let me pull out."

Nora's face turns red. Sits on his lap and covers his mouth.

"Shut up!"

Then she looks at me, acting all sweet.

"If the marriage thing bothers you, I'll get a divorce tomorrow. I'll drink this instead—sorry about everything."

Finn's face changes. He grabs the glass from her.

"What are you doing? You're on your period. You can't drink."

"And I never said I'd divorce you. Your mom's just gonna bug you again."

My chest hurts so bad I can barely breathe.

My parents have been telling me to get married for years.

Every time, Finn would say: "It's just paper. We don't need it."

Guess it matters. Just not with me.

I waited eight years for something he gave his "bro" when he was drunk.

Finn finally looks at me. His face is cold. He pushes the glass into my hand.

"Summer, stop acting like a child. You lost. Drink it and get over it."

I laugh. It sounds empty.

Chapter 1 Ding! The System Has Arrived

Plelas, Blackthorn University.

Dorm 302, Girls' Residence Hall.

"Megan, seriously, try not to think about him anymore. Wally is after your money. A guy like that isn't worth ruining yourself over."

"Exactly! There are tons of men out there. If this one's garbage, just replace him. Tomorrow I'll call up all the guys from my hometown group. Seniors, freshmen, everybody. You can pick whichever one you like and make that jerk regret dumping you."

Megan Harmon sat there in a daze. The two girls in front of her kept talking, trying their best to comfort her, but Megan's mind was still spinning. Even now, she could barely believe what had happened. She had transmigrated.

The girl whose body she now occupied was also named Megan, a sophomore at Blackthorn University.

According to her roommates, original Megan had been dating a guy named Wally Field since freshman year.

But not long ago, she saw him at the campus gate, carrying another girl from the same university into a luxury car. The girl weighed over 200 pounds.

Original Megan confronted him right there. Instead of apologizing, Wally dumped her on the spot.

Everyone knew why. He wanted a richer girlfriend. That was precisely why original Megan couldn't let it go. Heartbroken and furious, she dragged her two closest roommates out drinking to drown her sorrows and ended up drinking herself to death.

Which was how Megan ended up here.

There was so much nonsense packed into this situation that Megan honestly didn't know what to say.

"Ding! Host detected awake. Would you like to bind with the system?"

Megan froze for a second before answering firmly, "No."

She had read enough system novels in her previous life to know better. Who knew what this thing actually was? What if it was some scam system that drained her life or stole her soul? She had only just arrived in this world. She wasn't trying to die twice.

"Ding! Queen M System successfully bound. Congratulations, Host, on taking your first step toward becoming a gorgeous woman with wealth and beauty."

Megan was speechless.

Apparently, her opinion meant absolutely nothing.

"Ding! Congratulations! You have received a Beginner Gift Pack: 1x GeneX Serum. Would you like to claim it?"

Megan didn't say anything out loud. She asked silently in her mind, What's GeneX Serum?

The system's sweet, childish voice rang out in her mind.

"GeneX Serum gradually optimizes the host's genes and improves the body to its most perfect state. It is recommended that the host drink it as soon as possible."

Megan paused. If she suddenly becomes prettier, won't people think she got herself some cosmetic surgery?

"GeneX Serum works gradually. It will not cause suspicion.

"Queen M System is legit and professional. Please do not compare it to those shady bargain-bin systems."

Megan twitched at the corner of her mouth. Before she could respond, the system added quietly, "This is a trustworthy system. It only helps the Host become richer, prettier, and more successful. It will never harm the host."

Megan suddenly felt weirdly guilty, like she'd been caught talking trash behind someone's back.

She glanced at her roommates. The two girls were still passionately insulting Wally while trying to cheer her up. Finally, Megan raised her hand weakly. "Hmm, I know you girls mean well, but I kind of need to use the restroom."

The girls exchanged suspicious looks, clearly worried she might do something stupid, but they still let her go.

As one of the country's top universities, Blackthorn University had excellent dorm conditions. Every room came with its own private bathroom.

The second Megan shut the door, she whispered in her mind, Claim it.

A small blue bottle instantly appeared in her hand.

Megan stared at it for a while before making up her mind.

Now that she knew the system wasn't dangerous, who wouldn't want to become prettier?

She opened the bottle and drank everything in one gulp. After finishing the serum, Megan immediately stood in front of the mirror with excitement.

Original Megan's looks were only average at best. Her complexion was sallow, and all the drinking had made it look dull and tired.

Megan widened her eyes and stared at herself. Before she could notice any changes, a layer of dark grime suddenly started leaking out from her skin.

Well, now she definitely had to shower.

By the time Megan finally cleaned herself up and stood in front of the mirror again, she immediately noticed the difference.

Her nose looked slightly sharper. Her hairline had moved forward a little. Her features all seemed subtly improved, though nobody would notice unless they looked carefully.

Her pores had become smaller, too. Her skin looked brighter. Even the little bit of belly fat she used to have was reduced.

If her original appearance had been a six out of ten, now she could barely reach a solid seven.

Megan's eyes lit up with surprise. It really works!

After admiring herself enough, she finally asked her roommates to pass her a fresh set of clothes.

The dorm room had four girls in total. One of the girls who had been comforting her was named Zea Kinsman. She was tiny and cute, the classic sweet Southern girl.

The other was Veronica Lamb. She came from the Wrephia Region and stood almost 5'8". She always acted like the big sister of the dorm. The idea about gathering upperclassmen and freshmen for Megan to choose from earlier had been hers.

The last roommate was Astrid Dunn. She was local to Plelas and rarely stayed in the dorm, so Megan was closest to Zea and Veronica.

The moment the girls saw Megan walk out of the bathroom, they both let out obvious sighs of relief.

Veronica stepped forward and pulled Megan into a hug. "That's more like it! A cute, fresh-looking girl like you? Wally doesn't even deserve you."

The two of them had been worried Megan would lock herself in the bathroom and cry in secret. But looking at her now, she was glowing. There wasn't even a trace of that miserable, heartbroken look from before.

Zea grinned beside them. "Exactly! My bestie is gorgeous. Screw that loser!"

Megan smiled and quietly let out a sigh of relief. The system really knew what it was doing. Neither Zea nor Veronica had noticed the tiny changes in her appearance.

"I told you already, this is a decent system. Nobody will suspect a thing."

The system's weak, little voice echoed in her head. At the same time, a transparent screen appeared in front of her.

Host: Megan Harmon

Age: 19

Height: 5'3" (Upgradeable)

Beauty Score: 6.1 (Upgradeable)

Queen M Progress Bar: 1.5% (Total Progress: 100%)

Megan was puzzled.

She had just said her looks had to be at least a seven now, and the system gave her a 6.1? Was it doing this on purpose?

And what was this 1.5% progress bar supposed to mean? She had been secretly happy for a few seconds, only to find out she hadn't even reached 2% of "Queen M" status yet!

"The system's evaluation is based on all the information in this world. It is the most accurate rating possible, so please do not doubt the scores.

"Also, becoming a queen isn't just about looks. Knowledge, temperament, and personal ability all count too. The more rewards you earn from daily check-ins, the higher your score will become.

"Ding! It has been detected that the host has not checked in today. Would you like to check in now?"

"Check in," Megan answered immediately without even hesitating.

"Ding! Congratulations! You have received 1 million Fangcoins. The system has automatically credited them to your account. Please check it."

Megan was speechless. "Couldn't you just give me cash instead?"

The original Megan liked gaming and watched livestreams often, so having a FangStream account wasn't strange.

She picked up her phone, opened the FangStream app, and tapped into her profile.

Sure enough, 1 million Fangcoins were sitting quietly in her balance.

Megan's emotions instantly became complicated.

The system really was loaded. One million Fangcoins converted directly into one million dollars.

Which brought her back to the same question—why couldn't he just give me cash?!

"Ding! Virtual currency spent by the host will be returned as cash rewards at 10 to 100 times the amount spent. Please explore the system yourself."

Megan's eyes lit up. "Can I tip myself?"

The system fell silent at this.

"Cash farming is prohibited! The host's ultimate goal is to become a top-tier queen! A true queen would never obsess over such tiny amounts of money!"

"Fine," Megan said.

Even with terrible luck, 1 million Fangcoins would still return at least 10 million dollars in cash. The moment she thought about that, the last bit of resentment in her heart disappeared completely.

Chapter 1 Reborn

"Ewan... Ivy..."Inside a stifling psychiatric ward, a gaunt woman sat motionless in a wheelchair. Her eyes were hollow and sunken, and though she was only in her mid-thirties, her hair had turned completely white.The television blared news of the Mercer Group CEO marrying his first love. Chase Mercer was giving Katrina Sawyer the grandest wedding imaginable.

At the sight, the woman shot up from her wheelchair, screaming wildly, "Give me back my children! Chase! Give them back!"

Slap!

A fat female nurse struck Nina Tann hard across the face. "Behave yourself!"

Nina clutched her cheek but lifted her head defiantly. "I'm Chase's legal wife! The Tann family's daughter! Let me out—I need to find my children!"

At that, the nurse spat in her face. "Spare me! Look at yourself—how dare you call yourself Mrs. Mercer? Stay quiet, or I'll put you in solitary!"

Bang!

The nurse locked the ward door.

On the live broadcast, Chase gazed at Katrina with unmistakable affection. Time had barely touched his face; at forty, he only looked colder and more mature.

Reporters narrated the touching tale of their campus romance and tragic separation. After 20 years apart, they'd finally reunited, bringing tears to friends and family alike.

Watching those familiar faces on screen, Nina let out a bitter, hollow laugh from her wheelchair.

No one remembered her. No one remembered the loyal wife who'd helped Chase rise to the top.

Nina could still vividly recall that night three years prior. Chase had thrown the divorce papers in her face, his voice dripping with contempt. "I've always loved Katrina! If it weren't for you, I never would've lost her all those years!"

They'd been childhood sweethearts, engaged since they were young. She'd spent her family fortune for him, borne his children, and abandoned the academic career she'd once been so proud of.

Chase had climbed to success on her back—only to turn around and hold Katrina in his arms.

What had she gotten in return? Locked away in this psychiatric hospital for three whole years. Her son and daughter had died in a car crash; before their funeral was even over, Chase had rushed to marry Katrina.

"Nina, don't you know? To marry me, Chase killed your two children with his own hands.

"Your daughter was crying for Mommy when she died. They never knew you'd been locked up here for three years.

"The title of Mrs. Mercer was always mine. You stole it from me. Now it's time you gave it back."

Katrina's words from three days earlier echoed in her ears.

Nina felt a sweet, metallic taste rise in her throat. Her eyes remained fixed on the screen, where Chase and Katrina shared a loving smile.

If she could live her life again, she would never make the same mistakes.

"Nina? Nina?"

A deep teenage voice sounded beside her.

In a haze, Nina felt as if she were drowning, her chest crushed by pressure. Then something soft pressed against her lips, and a warm flow rushed down her throat. Nina's eyes flew open.

Cough—cough!

"Nina, are you okay? How did you fall into the pool out of nowhere?"

A girl's concerned voice drifted in her ears.

Nina was utterly confused.

Pool?

What pool?

She looked down at her hands. They were not the aged, bloated hands of a middle-aged woman—they were soft, fair, youthful hands.

This was... her high school self?

In an instant, realization hit. She immediately looked around, and sure enough, this was the swimming hall of Linholt High School!

She'd been reborn!

"Why else would she fall in? She was probably spying on Chase while he swam!"

Several nearby girls laughed loudly, not bothering to hide their disdain for Nina.

Not far away, Chase wore nothing but swim trunks. At only seventeen, his body was already well-developed, with defined muscles and a faint v-line. His sharp, handsome face drew stares from everyone around him.

At the sight of Chase, Nina's face paled.

Chase!

He was just as he'd always been—the center of attention wherever he went.

Who could have guessed that this golden boy was nothing but a hypocritical, selfish monster beneath it all?

Thinking of her children, killed by him in her past life, Nina clenched her fists so hard they shook.

Fine then, Chase. This time, I'm going to ruin you.

Chase clearly overheard the girls' comments. He frowned in annoyance and turned away.

"Don't say that. Nina isn't like that," Katrina said, looking upset.

The moment she saw that it was Katrina, Nina's mind flashed with images from her previous life.

Back in high school, she'd gained weight and grown insecure and timid. People at school looked at her strangely, and only Katrina had seemed friendly, always defending her in public.

With her pure, delicate features, Katrina was extremely popular—everyone wanted to be close to her.

At the time, Nina had truly believed Katrina was kind. She'd had no idea it was all just a scheme to get closer to Chase.

And the reason Katrina had targeted her? Simple—she was Chase's childhood sweetheart.

In her past life, Katrina had built herself up at school as gentle and kind, and Nina had been nothing but a prop Katrina used to sell that image.

Now Katrina was using the same trick again. She gently placed her hand on Nina's. "Nina, did you come to the pool to lose weight?"

As expected, the crowd burst into laughter at Katrina's "kind" defense.

"Look how fat she is! Even if she swims nonstop, Chase still won't spare her a second glance!"

Katrina's face flushed with fake frustration. She pulled Nina up in mock defiance. "Nina, ignore them. I'll teach you to swim. You'll be beautiful when you lose weight, and Chase will definitely like you!"

Hearing that, Nina quietly pulled her hand away. Katrina's smile froze instantly.

Nina hadn't forgotten—this was exactly how Katrina had humiliated her in front of everyone in her past life.

"No thanks," Nina said coldly.

Katrina refused to back down, grabbing Nina's arm and speaking in a wounded tone, "Nina, what's wrong? Did I say something to upset you?"

"Nina, Katrina's being nice to you. How can you be so ungrateful?"

"Katrina took such good care of you before and always spoke up for you. Honestly, you deserve to stay fat forever!"

"Come on, Katrina, let's leave her. She can swim if she wants, or not."

Several girls stepped forward to pull Katrina away.

Nina watched coldly as they fawned over her. Katrina's popularity at school wasn't just because of her looks, personality, or good grades—it was also her family name.

This was Linholt's most exclusive private high school, attended only by the children of wealthy families. Katrina's last name was Sawyer, so everyone assumed she was the daughter of the Sawyer family, Linholt's biggest real estate tycoon.

But none of them knew that Katrina was no wealthy heiress. She was just the daughter of the Sawyer family's chauffeur. Just a coincidence that they happened to share the same last name.

Nina had only found out in her past life that the real Sawyer heiress was someone else. Katrina had used her good grades and connections to the Sawyer family to take her place at school.

The real Sawyer heiress had been studying abroad for years. Nina remembered her name: Katherine Sawyer.

In the next second, Nina suddenly stepped forward and took Katrina's hand, pretending to be apologetic. "Kitty, I was being moody just now. I'm really sorry."

Chapter 2 I Don't Want Your Engagement Anymore

The second Katrina heard the name "Kitty," her face froze completely.

The others nearby exchanged confused glances. "Kitty? She only goes by Trina. Nina, are you high or something?"

Katrina's heart leaped into her throat.

Nina watched Katrina's panicked expression and said deliberately, "But I heard that's what the Sawyer family calls their heiress. Don't you like it, Katrina?"

Relief washed over Katrina when she realized Nina didn't know she was an impostor.

She replied, "...I just prefer Trina. Kitty is... for home."

She'd only gotten into Linholt High School because her father, who'd worked as the Sawyer family's chauffeur for decades, had begged Katherine's father for a spot. Since Katherine was studying abroad, the extra place had fallen to her.

From her first day at Linholt High, everyone had mistaken her for the wealthy Sawyer heiress. Now a sophomore, no one had ever found out the truth.

A flicker of doubt crossed Katrina's eyes. How on earth does Nina know that “Kitty” is what the Sawyer family calls their heiress? But then again… she doesn’t seem to know anything about Katherine. If she exposes me right now, I’m completely screwed. God, this is honestly a little creepy.

Katrina spoke in her usual soft, gentle voice, "Nina, I know you were upset earlier. I don't blame you."

Nina looked at her with a pitiful expression. "Will you still teach me to swim?"

"Of course I will."

Katrina acted as if they'd made up completely.

Nina smirked inwardly.

Katrina always loved playing the kind heroine in front of others. Nina had known she would agree to teach her.

In her past life, Katrina had tricked her. Once in the water, Nina had panicked because she couldn't swim, making a fool of herself in front of everyone.

Katrina had then purposely pushed her under the water, before pretending to save her but getting a cramp herself—letting Chase play the hero. That incident had made Chase and Katrina grow much closer.

This time, Nina wasn't going to let Katrina get her way so easily.

Soon, Katrina patiently showed Nina how to warm up, and then they both got into the pool.

Looking at the pool in front of her, Nina loosened up her limbs a little and pretended she didn't know how to swim. Katrina stood beside her, teaching her to hold her breath and float.

Everything was just like her past life—until Katrina tried to push her under. Nina suddenly grabbed Katrina's hand instead.

They were both in the deep water, and no one by the pool was paying attention. Nina gave a sharp tug, and Katrina let out a scream before falling clumsily back into the pool.

"Katrina! I'll save you!"

Nina pretended to panic and dove after her, but soon started flailing around on the surface, acting like she couldn't swim. Katrina had been about to float to safety when Nina kicked her back under.

"Help! Something's wrong! Nina and Katrina fell in!"

People around them shouted, and a figure immediately jumped into the pool.

Chase moved through the water like a fish. Without thinking, he swam straight toward Katrina and quickly carried her to the edge.

Cough—cough!

Katrina choked on water and spit out two big mouthfuls, her light makeup smudged and her appearance completely ruined.

Chase frowned deeply and asked in a low voice, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine..."

Katrina was about to say more when someone shouted, "Chase! Nina's still in the water!"

Chase snapped back to his senses.

When he saw that Nina, who couldn't swim, was still drowning, he frowned and prepared to jump in—until another figure suddenly dove into the pool.

Although Nina was only pretending, her body was overweight, and the flailing had almost exhausted her.

Suddenly, she felt strong arms lift her up.

Nina froze. She turned her head and saw a perfect jawline, soft pink lips, a straight nose, and narrow eyes with long, curled lashes. His cold, brooding face looked like a masterpiece.

Jensen Mercer?

Why was he saving her?

In her past life, she'd barely spoken to Jensen. He and Chase had always been bitter enemies.

She remembered that right now, Jensen was still the Mercer family's shameful illegitimate son, while Chase was the official heir. Because of that, Jensen was heavily bullied at school.

But who could have guessed that this quiet, gloomy teenager would later be revealed as the eldest son of the Grey family—the most powerful business tycoons in Halmont?

After recovering from her shock, Nina was gently set down on the poolside by Jensen.

Chase immediately snapped at her without hesitation, "Nina, if you can't swim, don't show off!"

"Chase, it's okay..." Katrina said, her face full of fake hurt.

Nina saw that Katrina was about to blame her for the fall, just like in her past life. She rushed forward and hugged Katrina tightly. "Katrina, thank god you're okay! You scared me to death!"

"I-I'm fine..."

Katrina was caught off guard by the sudden hug, and the excuses she'd prepared died on her lips.

Very soon, Nina let her go and said in a wounded voice, "I don't know how to swim at all. I accidentally pulled you and made you lose your balance. I feel terrible. But Katrina, please don't suddenly push my waist under the water next time. It scares me."

Katrina's smile vanished completely.

For a beginner, having someone suddenly push your waist underwater was practically attempted murder.

Everyone immediately turned to look at Katrina with strange expressions. Even Chase frowned slightly.

Katrina quickly said, "It's my fault, I wasn't careful... I'm so sorry, Nina. I almost got you hurt."

Chase's heart melted completely when he saw the beautiful Katrina tearful and remorseful.

He didn't even stop to wonder if she'd done it on purpose.

"Don't apologize to her. She brought this on herself." Chase pulled Katrina to his side and said coldly to Nina, "If you can't swim, don't bother other people."

"Chase..."

"I'll take you to the infirmary."

Chase protected Katrina like she was something precious.

Nina smiled bitterly at the scene.

They'd been childhood sweethearts, yet Chase always took Katrina's side without question—even though he'd only known her for a year.

Nina, you were so blind in your past life. You wasted your entire life on a man like him.

Thankfully, heaven has given me a second chance to make things right.

Chase, this life, I don't want your engagement anymore.

Lyric POV

My alarm goes off at 5am sharp as usual. I groan before rolling over and turning it off.

“You’re so cranky in the mornings,” my wolf Nova snickers in my mind.

I climb out of my bed and make my way to the shower.

“I hope you’re ready for a week of chaos,” my best friend Winter links me. Winter is the youngest pup of our Alpha and Luna.

“What do you mean?” I link back.

“Seriously Lyric, besides the fact that the pack will be crawling with visiting packs soon for the ball on Saturday,” she links.

How could I forget? Our future alpha Mason Lane, who is Winter’s older brother, and my older brother Hunter, who is the future beta, both turn 18 this week. Hunter’s birthday is on Thursday and Mason’s birthday is today, and even though the mating ball is Saturday, he can scent his mate today even if she isn’t 18.

“Don’t remind me, but what does that have to do with me?” I link as I climb in the shower.

“Well Summer already walks around the pack like she is our future Luna and now today we will find out,” she links back.

Summer is my twin sister and I say twin loosely because we are on two opposite ends of the genetics spectrum. I’m 5’0 tall with caramel skin, curvy and thick no matter how much I train, with copper red hair and green eyes. Summer has olive skin like my mother with pale blue eyes and she is also 5’7 and slim.

Total opposites, I know.

That makes me an easy target for the pack’s so-called future Luna.

In public she’s sweet and perfect, but behind closed doors where there are no eyes on her, she finds any way to make my life hell.

No matter how many times I tried to fight back, it always ended up worse for me. When I was ten, I told my mom Summer shoved me down a flight of stairs. Two days later, one of the omega girls who helped me get to the hospital was beaten so badly she missed school for a week. Summer never admitted to anything, but she didn’t have to. She cornered me afterward and thanked me for proving her point. I never told on her again.

“Please tell me you’re almost ready. Training starts in 15 minutes,” Winter links me.

“Getting dressed now,” I link her back as I put on my leggings and sneakers.

I just throw on a sports bra and cropped tank. My hair does what it wants so I put it in the best version of a bun.

“You’re trying too hard,” Nova says in amusement.

I ignore her and walk out of my room.

“Meet me in the dining room,” I link Winter.

I head downstairs to the dining hall from the beta floor.

As I walk into the kitchen, I spot Mason sitting at a table with Hunter, Lucas and Micah, the future gamma and delta.

His eyes are locked on me the moment I step into the dining hall.

My stomach flips.

I hate that my body still reacts to him. It always has. Ever since we were kids and he followed me around calling me sunflower like it was my actual name.

I walk away before I think too much about what it means.

“Good morning, Mary,” I say to the head omega.

“Good morning, sweetheart. How are you today?” she asks, checking me over.

“I’m fine. Need help with anything?” I ask.

“No sweet girl, I will see you after training,” she says.

I walk out and find Winter waiting by the door.

“Finally, we are already late,” she says as soon as she sees me.

“I’m sorry, let’s go,” I say.

When we get to the training grounds, I get a link from Delta Sam.

“Lyric, the Alpha and I would like to use you for a demonstration today,” he says.

“Why me?” I link back.

“Because you are the only one who knows how to do the move properly,” he links back.

“Fine,” I say.

“What was that about?” Winter asks.

“I’m being used for a demonstration,” I say, annoyed.

“It’s going to be okay,” Nova says.

“I would rather stay in the back where I belong until I can get out of here,” I say to her.

“You are not meant to be in the back, Lyric,” she says softly.

“Tell that to Summer,” I murmur.

Being noticed has never worked out well for me. Every compliment, every birthday gift, every moment someone chooses me over her always seems to come with a price later.

“Good morning everyone,” Delta Sam says, getting everyone’s attention.

“Today we will be practicing offensive moves that can be useful while fighting a wolf in human or wolf form,” he adds.

“We will have a demonstration before we pair off to practice.”

“Our gamma will be demonstrating with Lyric,” he says.

All eyes turn to me—including Mason’s and Summer’s.

Great.

I walk over to where Delta Sam and Gamma Jake stand.

“Okay, Lyric will be on offense, and Gamma Jake will be on defense. He’ll attack you in his human form first, then his wolf form.”

My heart pounds in my chest.

I know I can handle this, but all this attention?

Not my favorite thing.

He yells, “Begin!”

I drop into a fighting stance, waiting for Jake to make the first move.

He swings out, aiming for my ribs.

I sidestep and land my own punch right there, solid against his side.

He staggers back and tries a leg sweep.

I hop back just in time, avoiding the trip.

Then he lunges, grabbing me around the waist.

I twist with his momentum, wrapping my legs around his hips and my arms around his neck.

In a quick spin, I’m on his back like a backpack from hell.

Before he can shake me off, I drive my elbow into the back of his head.

Delta Sam calls, “Time!”

I leap down from Jake’s back, breathing hard, a huge grin splitting my face.

When I look up, Mason’s eyes are locked on me, intense with some emotion I can’t quite read—but it sends chills racing down my spine.

Then I make the mistake of looking past him. Summer is staring too. Her face is smiling for the crowd, but her eyes aren’t. My stomach immediately sinks. Whatever pride I felt from the demonstration disappears. Because if history has taught me anything, it’s that Summer hates being outshined.

Chapter 1

"You can't give me an heir, Nova. So I let my sister-in-law carry my pup."

My Alpha mate, Asher, stood before me, his ar*m wrapped protectively around his brother's pregnant widow.

"You humans call it surrogacy." he said coldly, ignoring my trembling hands.

"Lilian volunteered to carry my pup so you wouldn't have to face the shame of being a barren Luna."

"When she gives birth, you will be the perfect Luna and I will ask my pup call you Mommy."

I looked at the woman wearing my silk nightgown.

He thought I would swallow this humiliation just to keep a use*less title. He forgot one crucial detail.

I wasn't just a weak, dependent human. I was the billionaire heiress funding his entire pack.

And now, I was going to destroy his empire.

Nova's POV

"It's a miracle, Dr. Harrington. You're pregnant."

The human specialist's voice from this morning still echoed in my mind.

I sat alone at the long dining table in the pack house, staring at the black-and-white ultrasound photo in my trembling hands.

A tiny, beautiful bean. Our baby.

Five years. I gave up my scalpel, my prestige as a top-tier surgeon, and the bright lights of the city to live in this isolated northern canyon.

I became the Luna of the Bluemoon pack, a fragile human among powerful werewolves.

I even hid my true identity as the sole heiress of a global medical group. I quietly funneled billions of my family's money into Asher's territory, building their defenses and economy to crown him the strongest Alpha in the state.

My body paid the price. Five years ago, I took a silver-laced blade to the gut to save Asher from a rogue attack. The pack healers declared my womb ruined.

But I never stopped trying. And tonight, for our fifth anniversary, I was finally going to give my Alpha the ultimate surprise.

The front door slammed open, letting in a gust of freezing wind.

I stood up, smoothing down my elegant evening dress, a smile breaking across my face. "Asher, you're just in time. I have something incredible to, "

The words died in my throat.

Asher didn't walk in alone. He was carrying a woman in his arms. She was sobbing loudly, her blonde hair plastered to her tear-stained face, her arms wrapped tight around his neck.

Lilian. His older brother Damien's mate.

"Nova," Asher said, his voice tight and authoritative. His golden Alpha eyes stared at me with cold calculation. "Damien is dead. Rogues attacked the northern border this afternoon."

I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth. The ultrasound photo slipped behind a linen napkin. "Oh my god. Asher, I'm so sorry. Lilian, I am so sorry for your loss."

"According to the pack widow laws, I have to take care of her," Asher cut me off. He carefully set Lilian down on the velvet sofa as if she were a fragile porcelain doll.

"Of course," I said softly, stepping forward to comfort her. "She can stay in the guest wing. I'll have the omegas prepare a warm bath and..."

"She's staying in the master bedroom," Asher interrupted.

I froze mid-step. "What?"

Lilian sniffled, lea*ning heavily against Asher's chest. She looked me up and down, her gaze pausing on my silk dress with obvious disdain. "I'm sorry, Nova. But I need the Alpha's strong scent to keep the baby calm. It's a werewolf instinct. A weak human like you simply wouldn't understand."

I blinked, confused. "Baby? Damien's baby?"

Asher stepped in front of Lilian, a protective gesture that felt like a knife to my chest. "No. My baby."

The silence in the room was deafening. The ticking of the grandfather clock suddenly sounded like hammer blows against my skull.

"Excuse me?" I whispered, my voice sounding like it was coming from underwater.

"Lilian is carrying my pup," Asher said flatly. His jaw clenched, but his eyes held absolutely no guilt. "You know you can't give me an heir, Nova. My bloodline is too important to die out. I am the strongest Alpha in the state. The elders are demanding a pureblood heir."

"So you slept with your brother's mate?" I choked out, hot nausea rising in my throat.

"Don't make this ug*ly," Asher snapped. He crossed his arms, towering over me. "It's a medical procedure. You humans call it surrogacy. Lilian volunteered to carry my pup so you wouldn't have to face the shame of being a barren Luna."

Lilian peeked out from behind his broad back. She wiped a fake tear from her cheek, but her eyes were sharp and malicious.

"I just wanted to help the pack, Nova. You're just a human. Your bl*ood is thin. Look at you in that ridiculous dress. You don't even have the hips to carry a strong Alpha pup. I'm doing this for you and Asher. You should be thanking me."

I felt a slap of humiliation burn my cheeks. She was mocking my humanity, my body, and my status, right in front of my mate.

And he did nothing to stop her.

But I wasn't going to roll over.

"I don't agree to this," I said, my voice shaking with raw rage. "I am your mate. I am your Luna. Alpha Asher! I do not consent to this 'surrogacy' bull*shit."

Asher's face hardened. The air in the room grew heavy with his suffocating Alpha aura, a pressure designed to make me submit.

"You don't understand our wolf rules, Nova. You get to keep the Luna title, but I need an heir. I will put the child under your name once it's born."

"You get to play mother, and I get my legacy. Why can't you just be generous about this? Do you want to watch the elders strip me of my title?"

He was turning my heartbreak into a selfish attack on his power.

"Take her to the guest room, Asher," I said, my voice icy calm. "Or I walk out that door right now."

Chapter 2

Nova's POV

"You're not going anywhere," he growled. "This is werewolf business. You will accept this, Nova. It's for the good of the pack."

He didn't wait for my answer. He scooped Lilian up in his strong arms and carried her down the hall, leaving me entirely alone.

I stood in the dining room. The candles flickered and died in the draft.

My hands shook violently as I reached under the napkin and pulled out the ultrasound photo. The tiny bean. My baby. The baby he said I could never give him.

I walked blindly to the downstairs bathroom. My reflection in the mirror looked like a stranger. Pale. Broken. Foolish.

I slowly ripped the thick ultrasound paper into tiny, unrecognizable pieces. I dropped them into the toilet, watched them soak in the water, and flushed.

The loud sound of rushing water couldn't drown out the sudden noise coming from down the hall.

I stepped out of the bathroom, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. The guest room door was slightly ajar.

A soft, breathy moan echoed into the quiet, dark hallway.

I walked toward the sound, my bare feet silent on the floor. I stopped just outside the narrow crack of the door.

Lilian was lying back on the queen-sized bed in my personal bedroom. She was wearing my favorite crimson silk nightgown, the exact one I bought for our anniversary tonight.

Asher was sitting on the edge of the mattress. His large, rough hand was resting intimately on her bare stomach, his thumb stroking her skin in slow, agonizing circles.

"You're tasting so good, Lilian," he murmured. His voice was husky, thick, and full of a deep tenderness he hadn't shown me in months.

Lilian shifted her head on the soft pillow. Her eyes darted toward the door.

She saw me standing there in the shadows.

Instead of pulling away from him, she arched her back, pressing her body even closer to his hand. Then, looking right into my eyes, Lilian smiled. A slow, cruel, and victorious smirk.

I stepped back into the dark hallway and let the heavy silence wrap around me. My phone buzzed silently in my dress pocket.

I pulled it out. The bright screen lit up the darkness with a new text message from my brother, Thomas.

"Convoy arriving in exactly two days. The new state-of-the-art medical machines and the fresh billion-dollar investment contracts are ready."

I stared at the glowing words, my heart suddenly beating with a cold, steady rhythm.

Asher thought I was just a weak, dependent human who needed his protection. Lilian thought she had won the grand prize by stealing my mate.

But they were both so wrong.

In three days, Thomas was going to drive through those gates. And when he did, I wasn't going to sign any contracts. I was going to take back every single medical machine, cut off all my family's funding, and leave this primitive canyon with my brother and my baby.

I was going back to my world.

Let Lilian have the cheating Alpha. I was taking his empire.

***

"You need to move down a seat, Nova."

The next morning, when I entered the dining room, Asher's voice cut through the clatter of silverware and the low chatter of the morning pack meeting.

I paused, my coffee cup halfway to my lips. I looked from my mate to the woman standing right beside my designated chair at the right hand of the Alpha.

Lilian wore one of Asher's oversized grey t-shirts. It swallowed her petite frame, making her look vulnerable and small. She clutched her slightly rounded stomach and kept her eyes glued to the floor.

"The Luna sits beside the Alpha," I said, keeping my voice perfectly even. "That is the tradition."

"Lilian is carrying my heir," Asher replied sharply. He stepped forward, pulled out my chair, the chair I had sat in for five years, and gestured for her to sit.

"She needs to be close to my scent. It stabilizes the pregnancy. A human wouldn't understand the biology of our pups."

Lilian sank into the plush seat with a soft sigh. She looked up at the pack elders gathered around the long table, tears welling in her big, innocent eyes.

"I'm so sorry," she whimpered, dabbing her eyes with a linen napkin. "I never wanted to cause trouble for you, Nova. I know I'm just a widow. I don't want your title. I just want to give Damien's bloodline a chance to survive. You have your modern medicine and human clinics, but we wolves only have our pack bonds."

She lied and made it sound like I was a heartless mon*ster trying to throw a grieving, pregnant mother out into the snow.

Several elders nodded in sympathy. Beta Kyle shot me a disapproving look across the table.

"The Alpha's pup comes first, Luna," Kyle muttered.

I didn't argue. I quietly picked up my plate and moved down to the middle of the table, taking an empty seat among the lower-ranking warriors.

But Asher abruptly stood up. Whether it was a flicker of guilt or just pure possessiveness, he moved down the table, taking the chair directly next to mine, and instructed Lilian to sit on his left.

My stomach churned violently. The morning sickness was already making me dizzy, but the suffocating reality of him sitting right between me and Lilian made the nausea unbearable.

The meeting continued. Asher shifted the conversation to the northern border security. His tone was commanding, the perfect Alpha leading his pack through a crisis.

"We need to double the patrols near the canyon," Asher ordered, lea*ning his elbows on the table.

As he spoke, I felt a large, warm hand slide onto my thigh under the table.

Chapter 3

Nova's POV

I stiffened. Asher's long ar*m reached easily under the white tablecloth.

His rough fingers wrapped around my bare knee, squeezing gently before sliding higher up my leg.

He was claiming me. Even while sitting right next to the woman carrying his child, he was trying to force his dominance on me. His pine scent spiked in the dining room, thick and suffocating.

It was a trick meant to make his mate dizzy and compliant.

I tried to pull my leg away. His grip immediately tightened. His thumb pressed hard into my skin in a clear, undeniable warning.

"The rogues are getting bolder. They might strike again," Beta Kyle said, oblivious to the silent war happening below the table.

"I'll handle the rogues," Asher said smoothly. His thumb stroked my inner thigh again, sending a shiver of pure anger down my spine.

Then, a sharp gasp interrupted the meeting.

"Oh! Asher, it hurts!"

Lilian suddenly doubled over, clutching her stomach. Her face turned pale, and she grabbed Asher's left ar*m with both hands, burying her face into his shoulder.

"What is it? Is it the baby?" Asher asked. The sudden panic in his voice was raw and real.

"Just a sharp pain," Lilian breathed heavily, keeping her grip on him. "I think the pup is just stressed. You feel so tense today, Alpha. Your energy is upsetting the baby."

I felt sick of her sweet voice and bumped my elbow against the table edge, knocking my silver spoon onto the floor. It landed with a loud clatter against the stone tiles.

"Excuse me," I muttered, bending down to retrieve it.

Underneath the long, draping tablecloth, the ug*ly truth was la*id bare.

Lilian wasn't curled up in pain. Her bare foot was entirely out of her slipper. Her pale leg was stretched out, and her toes were slowly and deliberately sliding up Asher's calf, resting intimately right against the inside of his knee.

Asher didn't pull away. He didn't brush her leg off. Instead, his hand, the exact same hand that was just dominating my thigh a second ago, let go of me completely. He reached over in the dark and placed his hand gently over Lilian's knee, accepting her secret touch.

My heart shattered into a million sharp pieces.

I grabbed the spoon and sat back up in my chair. The bl*ood rushed in my ears, drowning out the deep voices of the elders.

Asher was currently wiping a stray drop of milk from Lilian's chin with his thumb, right in front of everyone.

"Feeling better?" he asked her softly.

"Much better," she whispered back. She shot a quick, triumphant glance in my direction. "Your touch always calms the baby down. He needs you."

I looked at the expensive food on my plate. It looked like dirt.

Five years of my life. Five years of hiding my wealth, funding his military, treating his injured warriors, and destroying my own body to protect him. And he was casually playing house with his brother's widow right in front of my face, treating me like a naive fo*ol.

His "Love" Was a Trap

Chapter 1 Shattered

The night before my wedding, a video of me being drugged and assaulted spread online.

My fiancé Dustin Oswald texted me calling off the wedding. The very next day, he got married to Daphne Wiley.

Just when I hit rock bottom, Steve Oswald showed up. He stood in front of me with a bigger diamond ring than Daphne's, poured his heart out even more.

He said, "Katara, I've been in love with you for years. Will you marry me?"

I said yes.

Six months into the marriage, outside a private room at a bar, I overheard a drunk Steve talking with his assistant.

"Mr. Oswald, half a year ago, you had people set Ms. Draper up to be assaulted and even posted the video online. Seeing how good she is to you now... looking back, wasn't that going too far?"

Steve replied, "To make sure Daphne could smoothly marry my brother, I had to do it. I can't be with her in this life, but at least I can clear the path for her. As for Katara, I'll make it up to her."

"Mr. Oswald, the hospital just handed over Ms. Draper's test results. The drug dose that night was way too strong. It caused permanent infertility. If it's severe, she might even need a hysterectomy. Just for Daphne's sake, do you think it was worth it?

"And Ms. Draper's mental state isn't good either."

Smash!

The sound of shattering glass came from the room.

Steve's voice turned ice-cold. "That is not your concern. Know your place, or you'll face the consequences."

I leaned against the wall and slowly slid down.

The man I thought was my savior was actually the one who ruined me.

I covered my mouth and ran.

On the way home, Steve kept blowing up my phone. That number used to mean warmth, now it just scared me.

That night, Steve pushed the door open.

"Katara, why didn't you pick me up? Thinking about that night again?" he asked softly.

When I didn't answer, he softened it further. "Don't worry. We've got our whole lives ahead of us. We'll forget the bad stuff."

If I hadn't heard that conversation earlier, I might have believed his gentle act.

I said, "Steve, the doctor said I can't have kids anymore. Didn't you want a child more than anything?"

Steve froze. A flicker of pain flashed in his eyes.

But then he immediately said gently, "Having you is enough. I'll always take care of you, okay?

"We have the family gathering at the old house tomorrow. We should turn in early."

He left a light kiss on my forehead.

He adjusted the lights to my favorite setting and put on the music I love.

He was always good with the little things.

He went all out for someone he didn't even love—all just for Daphne, a woman he could never have.

I looked at the executive job offer from a famous company abroad. I immediately replied 'Accept' and booked a flight leaving in three days.

Since I couldn't get his real heart, I was leaving.

When I woke in the morning, Steve was already gone. Breakfast was on the table, next to a note he left.

"Sweetheart, I headed to the old house first. Don't worry, I'll make this easy for you in front of the elders."

I looked around. The piano in the corner of the living room was gone.

I noticed dust had gathered where the piano used to be. As I went to wipe it with a rag, I saw a floorboard was slightly warped.

Steve and I had decorated this house together. There shouldn't be flaws like this.

I crouched down, trying to push the board back into place, but found a hardcover diary hidden underneath.

Eleanor POV

I've always known our marriage had an expiration date.

Three years ago, when Derek knelt before me at his grandmother Margaret's hospital bedside and proposed to me, we both knew clearly this was merely a three-year performance.

I accepted because I had loved him for too long, willing to take whatever scraps of time he offered. But during these three years, he's been in London almost constantly, making our marriage nothing but an empty title.

Now, with our three-year contract nearing its end, I've begun steeling myself for the inevitable.

Derek must be relieved that he can finally end this charade. Yet deep down, a foolish part of me still nurtures an impossible hope, like tending to a winter bloom that has no business surviving the frost.

The man I love has only ever seen me as that thirteen-year-old orphan who invaded his perfect world—a charity case, never a wife, certainly never a lover.

My fingers still stung slightly from rose thorns as I examined the wedding arrangement I'd just completed for a wedding at Trinity Church.

The cascade of white roses and delicate baby's breath filled the shop with their intoxicating fragrance, each petal a silent witness to promises I knew were often as fragile as they were.

The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the bay windows of Four Seasons Florals, casting golden patterns across the polished hardwood floors that had once represented my single triumph outside the Wells family shadow.

Just as I stepped back to assess my work, my phone rang.

"Eleanor Wells," I answered, injecting professionalism into my voice despite the exhaustion seeping into my bones.

"So you're alive after all!" Olivia's voice boomed through the speaker, vibrant and unapologetic as always. "I've texted you three times! Let me guess—you're busy playing the dutiful wife because your husband is back in town?"

My heart didn't just skip a beat. "What are you talking about?"

"Seriously? Derek. He landed at Logan this morning. You didn't know?" The surprise in Olivia's voice quickly crystallized into righteous fury.

I gripped the counter edge until my knuckles turned white, the smooth marble cool against my palm—a stark contrast to the heat rising within me.

"He never does," I said quietly, my pulse thundering beneath the calm surface.

"This is exactly why you need to be prepared when he hands you those divorce papers," Olivia continued, her words sharp as the shears I'd used on the roses.

"The man spends half a year with you after the wedding, then jets off to London for two and a half years, coming back once or twice a year like he's granting an audience to a commoner. Meanwhile, the Wall Street Journal can't stop composing sonnets about the financial prodigy Derek Wells, who's revolutionizing investment strategies at twenty-eight."

The next second, my phone pinged with an incoming message from Olivia: a candid photo of Derek at Logan Airport. Even in the grainy image, his sharp jawline, piercing eyes, and that permanently furrowed brow were unmistakable.

"Setting aside the fact that there's basically no emotional foundation to your marriage," Olivia added, "your husband has a face that's criminally handsome. It should be illegal to look that good while being such an eloquent phantom in your life."

I stared at his profile, feeling the familiar ache bloom in my chest, unfurling like one of my hothouse peonies—beautiful and doomed to wilt. "I should go," I managed, suddenly aware of how the air around me had thinned.

After hanging up, I gazed at the wedding arrangement in my shop window, momentarily transported back to my own wedding three years ago at the historic Old South Church.

The memory crystallized with the bitter clarity of winter air—Derek's glacial eyes as he slipped the ring onto my finger, the polite smile that never disturbed the frost, Catherine Wells watching with the calculated disapproval, and Margaret Wells beaming from her wheelchair, the only one genuinely celebrating the elaborate theatrical production staged for her benefit.

I quickly closed the shop, ignoring the light-headedness that spiraled through me from having skipped lunch. Outside, Newbury Street pulsed with the evening crowd—students with carefree laughter, tourists mapping generations of wealth through architecture, locals parading dogs groomed more meticulously than some children. None of them could see the invisible countdown clock hanging over my head.

During the cab ride to Beacon Hill, I mentally inventoried our kitchen, planning a dinner Derek might appreciate. The townhouse's brick facade emerged between the historic homes, its windows reflecting the setting sun like indifferent eyes. Last week, I'd dismissed the housekeeper he'd hired—what was the point when I lived alone most of the year?

Inside, the house was silent and pristine as I examined the refrigerator's contents and decided on the salmon with dill sauce Derek had once mentioned liking at L'Espalier before it closed. I spent two hours preparing the meal, arranging the plate as meticulously as one of my floral designs, pairing it with the Chablis his brother Alexander had gifted us last Christmas.

One hour passed. Then two. Derek didn't appear.

My calls went straight to voicemail. My texts remained unread. "Just like always," I whispered to myself, the words dissolving in the empty dining room like sugar in rain.

While absently scrolling through social media, a post caught my eye. Thomas Stone, one of Derek's friends, had shared a photo captioned "Welcome home!" There was Derek at the Somerset Club, surrounded by friends, a glass of whiskey in hand and his collar casually open—the universal sign he was relaxed and enjoying himself.

I ate my cold dinner alone, fighting the tears that threatened to fall into my plate. The salmon that had taken me hours to perfect now tasted like the ashes of my expectations.

After meticulously cleaning the kitchen—a ritual that always calmed me—I took a long shower, letting the hot water wash away my disappointment. I thought about the pattern of Derek's returns: the anticipation, the preparation, the inevitable letdown.

Wrapped in my silk nightgown, I settled into our king-sized bed, my fingers instinctively finding the silver star pendant at my throat—the only gift Derek had ever given me. He'd bought it hastily the day before our wedding, when someone pointed out he hadn't given me an engagement present. I cherished it anyway.

Unable to sleep, I recalled the day I first arrived at the Wells home. I was thirteen, newly orphaned after my parents' deaths in that financial fraud scandal that no one in the Wells family ever discussed. I was terrified, clutching my small suitcase. Fifteen-year-old Derek had barely acknowledged me, too busy with his lacrosse gear to notice the scared girl in his foyer. How strange that over ten years, we'd gone from strangers to family, only to become strangers again after marriage.

The sound of the bedroom door opening startled me from my thoughts. I sat up quickly, pulse racing, the silk sheets whispering against my skin like secrets being exchanged.

Footsteps crossed the threshold—deliberate, measured, achingly familiar. I couldn't see clearly in the dim amber glow of my bedside lamp, but I could sense his presence, electric and unavoidable as a gathering storm. The faint scent of expensive cologne and whiskey drifted across the room, wrapping around me like invisible tendrils.

Then I heard it—my name, spoken in a voice both intimately familiar and strangely foreign, as if the three years of absence had altered its very texture.

"Eleanor."

Chapter 1 A New World

Astral Sector A1, Planet Trash-A001.

The air was thick with the stomach-turning stink of rotting garbage.

One second ago, Elara Soren had been living the dream.

Back in the Magic World, she had been a veteran Plant Mage with a name everyone respected.

She could turn dead soil into fertile ground, grow mana herbs everyone else called impossible, and make noble families line up for a chance to buy one of her legendary mana roots.

Life had been good.

Then lightning hit.

Now she was flat on her back in a pit full of garbage, with some bug-eyed creep drooling over her. His teeth were yellow. His breath was worse.

"Look at you," the man said, leaning so close his greasy hair brushed her cheek. "All soft and pretty. Didn't think a rich girl like you would end up here, huh?"

Elara almost gagged. A flicker of disgust crossed her face. 'Oh, hell no.'

She was a support-focused Plant Mage, and close combat had never been her strength.

But letting some trashy lowlife walk all over her? Not happening.

Her gaze sharpened. 'End this fast.'

Before the man could say another word, Elara snapped her palm upward and slammed it into his face. A burst of leftover mana exploded from her hand.

A heavy thud cracked through the air.

The thug flew backward like a broken doll and crashed several yards away, clutching his chest as he groaned.

Elara frowned, annoyed. 'That should've turned a high-tier Magus into confetti. Why is he still breathing?

'Is this weak punch really all I have now?'

She lifted her hand and stared at her empty fingers. Elara went still.

The little silver ring on her pinky was gone. The one that held three golden raven strikes, each strong enough to cut through a Magus's shield.

Her storage ring was gone too, the one packed with half her fortune.

Her expression chilled. 'Okay. Whoever robbed me is having a very bad day.'

She pushed herself up and strode toward the man.

The creep's eyes went wide. He scrambled back on all fours, crying so hard his voice cracked. "Miss Soren, please! Please don't kill me. You're the Soren family's heiress!

"I swear, it wasn't my idea. It was your mother. She told me to do it!"

Elara stopped. Her brows pulled together. 'Miss Soren? Heiress? My mother? What kind of cheap drama did I wake up in?'

She rubbed her temples, trying to make sense of it.

She had been an orphan in the Magic World. No family. No inheritance. No fancy last name that made people flinch. Except now, apparently, she had one.

A flash of memory struck her.

Right before everything went black, she had been standing in her private greenhouse, reaching for the god-tier Mana Root she had spent years raising.

The moment her fingers touched it, thunder split the sky. Not normal thunder either. Then came the lightning. The Divine Lightning.

It was the kind that should have erased her from existence.

Yet here she was, alive. Barely dressed in a grimy long-sleeved shirt and pants she did not recognize.

Her body felt weak, too thin, all elbows and sharp bones.

Something was very wrong.

Then the memories hit. They crashed into her skull all at once, bright and brutal, like a data file being forced into her brain.

She staggered, dizzy.

The Interstellar World. The Alpha Empire. The Soren family, one of the Five Grand Houses. A neglectful father. A vicious stepmother. A manipulative stepsister. A fiancé who had cheated on her.

Elara swayed. Her eyes widened. 'You have got to be kidding me. Again?'

She had already died once.

Her first life had been painfully ordinary, back on twenty-first-century Earth. Then she had transmigrated into the Magic World and fought her way to the top.

Now one lightning strike had thrown her into a futuristic empire among the stars.

She let out a dry, humorless breath. 'Well, at least I seem to come with extra lives.'

The memories kept pouring in.

This body also belonged to Elara Soren, eldest heiress of the Soren family in the Alpha Empire.

By birth, she should have had everything: status, money, protection, and a future most people would kill for.

Unfortunately, her life had been a total disaster. Her mother died young, her father ignored her, and her stepfamily set her up over and over again until high society treated her like a joke.

Then her fiancé fell for her stepsister and demanded to break off the engagement.

Furious and humiliated, she had tried to drug her fiancé into marrying her. It was a stupid plan. Naturally, she got caught.

Since the man held a military title, the punishment was brutal. She was sentenced to a hundred years of exile on Planet Trash-A001.

Elara almost laughed. In the interstellar age, the average person lived to around one hundred and fifty. A full century on Planet Trash? That was basically a death sentence with extra paperwork.

And the assassination attempt happening right in front of her? Yeah. That had her dear stepmother's fingerprints all over it.

After sorting through the mess of inherited memories, Elara patted herself down, searching for a dimensional pouch, enchanted pendants, storage bracelets, anything.

She found nothing except a clunky metal band around her wrist.

Elara went still. "You've gotta be kidding me."

Her mana crystals. Her rare materials. Her entire fortune. Everything she had spent decades collecting through blood, sweat, and pure stubbornness.

Gone.

The joy of surviving shattered on the spot. All that remained was misery and the very strong urge to curse at the sky.

While she was processing the loss, the thug saw his chance. He scrambled to his feet and bolted.

Elara did not even look up. She picked up a jagged rock from the ground and flicked it with one finger.

The stone whistled through the air and punched straight through his back.

He stumbled, dropped face-first into the filth, and went still.

That at least gave her a tiny bit of comfort. She glanced at her hand and thought with relief, 'Good. My magic affinity survived.'

Her power, however, had dropped from Magus all the way down to Apprentice Mage.

And somehow, that was not even the worst part. The toxic air and the almost nonexistent mana quickly crushed her mood again.

The tiny spark of hope she had just recovered died again on the spot.

Elara stood there for a moment before slowly letting out a breath. 'Whatever. Breathing is still better than being dead.'

Back when she had first ended up in the Magic World, she had started from nothing too. At the time, she had been a slave with no freedom.

And look how that had turned out. She had clawed her way up anyway.

Now, she still had the memories, experience, and instincts of a top-tier Plant Mage. There was no way she was going to starve to death in some oversized junkyard.

Planet Trash was exactly what the name promised: trash, rust, and miles of unwanted wasteland. Which meant free land.

Sure, the place was a nightmare for normal farming. The soil was dead, the air was foul, and the weather had a personal grudge against anything green.

'Please. I was a Plant Mage,' she told herself. 'If anyone can grow food in a toxic dump, it is me.'

The more Elara thought about it, the better she felt. By the time she finished talking herself up, her mood had bounced back. 'Let's see what kind of mess we're dealing with.'

Feeling much more hopeful, she tapped open the Holo-Pad built into the ugly wristband, ready to check how much money the original Elara had left behind.

She stared at the loading screen and tried to stay positive. 'Come on. I was born into one of the richest families in the Empire. Sure, the stepmother is evil, but my dad is still technically my dad.

'Even if he only cared about appearances, there's no way he sent his own daughter into exile without giving her survival money… right?'

Chapter 2 Stones That Hold Mana

Holo-Pads were the modern magic world's answer to phones, wallets, IDs, and personal assistants all rolled into one.

In this age, they could do far more than anything from the twenty-first century.

The moment Elara activated hers, a pale blue magic screen unfolded in the air.

[Name: Elara Soren

[Gender: Female

[Date of Birth: Stellar Year 2005, September 12

[Registered Residence: Astral Sector A1, Planet A001

[Mage ID: 45567424243254]

Her gaze paused on the birth date. 'Of all days.'

Today was September 12, 2025. The original Elara should have turned twenty today. Instead, it had become the day she died.

Elara lowered her eyes and gave the girl a quiet moment of respect. Then she kept scrolling.

At last, the account balance appeared.

[0 Star Credits.]

'Great. Just fantastic.' The tiny flame of hope in her chest went out on the spot.

Chapter 1

"Donna, Mrs. Grace has given birth! It's a boy! Don Oliver is practically beside himself with joy out in the hallway!"

As I listened to the news from our housekeeper, Margaret, a dull ache gripped my torso, and I couldn't calm down. Who would have thought that the person who had been keeping vigil at Grace's bedside these past few days was actually my husband?

And the child she just gave birth to was conceived using my husband Oliver's sperm.

...

That's absolutely ridiculous.

There was a noise at the door, and Oliver walked in. He was in an exceptionally good mood; the cold, aloof demeanor he usually displayed around me was completely gone.

"Grace gave birth. Seven pounds, six ounces—chubby and absolutely adorable," he said, unable to hide his excitement.

The "Grace" he was referring to was Grace Clark. The apple of the Clark family's eye, she married into the Thompson family with me three years ago.

I married the eldest son, Oliver. Grace married the little son, Ethan.

That double wedding caused a sensation throughout Boston.

However, the joy did not last long; Ethan was killed in a car accident, and Grace became a widow.

The Thompson family felt deeply guilty. To fulfill Grace's wish to carry on Ethan's legacy, they turned their attention to Ethan's twin brother, Oliver.

I lowered my eyes and stared at my slim fingertips, my face expressionless. "Congratulations. You certainly played a big part in this."

Oliver immediately looked displeased. "Grace has endured so much pain because she loves Ethan. Now that Ethan is gone, she needs a child to cling to—a reason to keep living. What's wrong with that?"

I sighed softly. "Did you even ask if I agreed?"

When I first heard that Grace was carrying, I thought it was Ethan's posthumous child. It wasn't until the timing of the gestation started to seem increasingly suspicious that Oliver finally told me the truth.

"Grace's gestation is the result of IVF using my previously frozen sperm," he said. "The whole family agreed to it. I hope you can understand."

Every member of the Thompson family kept such a major decision a secret from me. By the time I found out, it was already a done deal. And all I was asked to do was "understand"?

Oliver sat down on the sofa across from me and lit a tobacco. "It was Grace who came to me. Since the elders didn't object, I agreed."

"You have to understand, Ethan's death hit Grace really hard; she even showed signs of depression at one point. She can't handle any more pressure."

"She just wanted a child—something to hold onto, to help her get through her grief. I just did what anyone would do."

What anyone would do?

This was the first time I'd heard someone say that with such conviction and without a shred of shame.

Oliver studied my face. Something stirred faintly within him, though he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.

Just as he was about to speak, his cell phone rang.

It was Grace.

He answered, his voice softer than he'd ever been with me. "Yeah, I'm home. I'll take a shower and change, then head over—I can't let the child see me like this."

I stood up. "Go on, your sister-in-law and your son are waiting for you."

Those words stung like a knife. Oliver flew into a rage instantly. "Rose, do you really have to be so sarcastic?"

"It's better than having a stranger. At least the child is of Thompson lineage."

I tilted my head, though the smile didn't reach my eyes. "I'm curious—how did you go about donating?"

A strange expression flashed across Oliver's face, but it vanished in an instant. "How else could I have donated? I told you before—I donated sperm to a sperm bank. You know that."

Oliver let out a sigh. "There's nothing going on between Grace and me. It's not like I'm cheating on you."

"Besides, Nonna and Madre have been deeply grieved ever since Ethan left. Now that Leo is here, maybe it'll bring them some comfort. Isn't that a good thing? We've been married for three years now; if you could just—"

I've been married into the Thompson family for three years, and I still haven't been able to conceive.

My mother-in-law, Victoria Thompson, often calls me a "hen that doesn't lay eggs" behind my back, making no attempt to hide her contempt.

I once went to the hospital for a checkup on my own, without telling anyone. As it turned out, everything was fine. I didn't have any problems.

"A hen that doesn't lay eggs" is just an excuse.

The real reason is that the Soan family has suffered two consecutive investment failures and is now in deep fiscal trouble, having long since lost its former glory.

"Go see Grace at the hospital tomorrow," Oliver added as he was leaving. "Don't let her think you're skipping the visit because you're upset. You know how sensitive she is."

He left without waiting for a reply.

I went back to my room, pulled open the drawer of my dresser, and found a photo inside.

It was sent anonymously a month ago.

In the photo, a man and a woman were standing affectionately outside the entrance to a luxury hotel; their body language spoke for itself.

Just then, my phone screen lit up with a text message from an unknown number. I clicked on it.

Grace sent a photo of a crib with a caption that read: "Sister-in-law, there's something you should know. Oliver didn't donate at the hospital. That night at the hotel, it was natural conception."

I stared at the screen, not blinking once.

Natural conception.

I didn't let Grace's provocation get to me. Instead, I sat down at my vanity, applied a flawless, meticulous makeup look, and then headed to the maternity hospital.

I wanted to see for myself just how far this man and woman were going to take this charade.

Chapter 2

In the VIP obstetrics ward, Grace lay in bed, her cheeks rosy and her complexion radiant; there was no sign whatsoever that she had just given birth.

I pushed open the door, and both of them turned their heads at the same time.

As soon as Grace saw me, she broke into a radiant smile. "Rose! You're here!"

The name "Rose" struck a chord deep within me—a feeling I couldn't quite put my finger on.

Oliver was already using a tissue to wipe the corner of Grace's mouth when he turned to me and said, "You're here."

"Mm-hmm," I replied.

"Stay with Grace for a bit," Oliver said, setting down the tissue. "I'll go downstairs to buy some fruit—she's been wanting grapes."

Grace tilted her head, flashing a charming smile. "Oh, just have the staff go buy them. Why bother going yourself?"

"I'll go myself. I know what you like." He was already heading for the door. "I'll see if there's anything else and pick it all up in one trip. It's just downstairs—I'll be back soon."

Grace's gaze softened. "Okay."

As soon as Oliver left, Grace's expression changed. Tears welled up instantly—her acting was first-rate. "Rose, are you still mad at me? I know I used Oliver's… I know this hurt your feelings. But I really do love Ethan; I begged Oliver to do it. We're both women—you must understand."

I watched her performance with a cold gaze and was just about to speak when a sharp voice suddenly end in.

"Grace! Why are you crying? You just had a child—you really shouldn't be shedding tears right now."

Victoria came out of the nursery next door, holding the infant in her arms, and give me a withering look as she walked past me.

The infant was still too tiny; its facial features hadn't fully developed yet. However, the green jade pendant hanging around the child's neck was impossible to ignore. I knew that pendant all too well.

It was a priceless treasure, carved from a single block of the finest jade. The Thompson family owned two such treasures: one was a vivid red jade, and the other was a deep green jade. The old patriarch had once given them to his wife, Madeline, as a wedding gift. When the Thompson brothers got married, Madeline passed them on to each of them. She gave the "green jade" to her eldest son, Oliver, and the "red jade" to her little son, Ethan.

And now, Oliver had hung his own around this child's neck. This clearly showed how much this child meant to him.

"Are you still hung up on it?" Victoria's voice turned sharp. "So you came all this way just to make Grace's life miserable?"

"The whole family agreed to this. If you ask me, you're just jealous."

"You've been married to Oliver for three years, and there's not even a hint of a gestation. You've only got yourself to blame."

These words were like knives, end in more than one direction.

I looked up, my tone calm and measured. "So, Madre, are you saying that Grace didn't have the child to carry on Ethan's lineage, but to carry on Oliver's?"

Victoria opened her mouth, then closed it again. "That's not what I meant! I meant you're jealous!"

I gave a faint smile and said nothing more. It was no use. Some things just didn't make sense, and besides, Victoria hadn't liked me from the very beginning.

With tears welling up in her eyes, Grace stepped in at just the right moment to smooth things over, handling the situation with practiced grace. "Madre, please don't blame Rose. People will think I'm the one causing trouble between you and her, and that would really hurt."

Victoria immediately softened. "All right, all right, I won't say another word. I was just standing up for you. You're such a kind person—some people see how gentle you are and think you're easy to push around."

Listening to them banter back and forth, I slipped out quietly.

In the hallway, I almost bumped into Oliver, who was coming back with bags of all sizes.

"Are you leaving already?" he asked.

"Mm-hmm." I stung him off before he could speak. "Oliver, I forgive you."

I forgave his coldness. I forgave his betrayal.

Because none of it mattered anymore.

I turned and walked away without looking back. My back was straight, and my stride was steady.

Oliver watched me go, a strange, inexplicable feeling flashing through his mind, but he suppressed it in an instant. He turned and went back to the ward.

I didn't go home. I drove to the obstetrics and gynecology department at a hospital on the other side of town.

"Oliver Thompson," I muttered to myself as I stepped through the hospital doors, "I'm going to show your whole family what it really means to have no descendants."

Chapter 3

At the hospital on the other side of town, the doctor handed over the report with a smile. "You have no idea how rare this is—the artificial insemination was a success. Go home and take good care of yourself; make sure to get plenty of rest."

The little life I'd been waiting for for three years had finally arrived. I suddenly felt an urge to cry.

Half of it was joy. The other half, however, was not.

By the time Ava arrived, I had been sitting on the bench for quite a while, lost in thought.

Ava was running a little out of breath, with a hint of annoyance on her face. "Our boss is such a pain—it took me ages to get time off, and I had to go through a lot of trouble just to get away."

Ava and I have been best friends since college; we're as close as sisters.

"You didn't have to go out of your way to come over," I said.

"Are you kidding me? With something this big, do you really think I could just sit at my desk and act like nothing's wrong?" Ava stared at the report for a few seconds before it suddenly dawned on her. "Wait, haven't you and that man been sleeping in separate rooms for a long time? Then this child—"

"Ava, don't say another word."

"Rose! Don't tell me you've been with someone else just to get back at him—"

"It's Oliver's child," I said flatly.

"What? What did you say?"

I looked away. "Oliver donated sperm to the hospital, and I used it without telling anyone."

Ava's eyes widened so much they seemed ready to swallow the entire room.

Things were getting more and more complicated. Grace's gestation became the most important thing in the Thompson family, and everyone's joy and excitement only made my situation feel even more suffocating.

Madeline and Victoria began openly mocking me for being unable to conceive, and the pressure they put on me was almost suffocating. It was that very sense of oppression that reminded me of Oliver's frozen sperm.

So I went and did it quietly, all by myself.

"I didn't tell anyone because I wasn't sure if it would work out," I said, my voice hoarse with self-deprecating humor. "I figured that if it did work out, maybe I could surprise Oliver."

My surprise never came. His "surprise" came first. If I'd known it would turn out this way, I would never have conceived his child.

Ava was so furious she wanted to smash something. "That scoundrel. With a wife as wonderful as you, he threw it all away for his brother's wife. Men really are creatures who think with their lower halves."

I exhaled slowly. "He was in love with Grace even before we got married."

"What?" Ava's voice rose an octave. "So you're just… a replacement?"

"I'm not even a replacement," I said with a bitter smile.

Ava let out a scoff. "Does he even know how much you love him? How much you've done for him?"

"His tech company was on the verge of going under because its core system hit a bottleneck—you quietly resolved the issue behind the scenes without taking any credit. That breakthrough is what established Nexsola Tech's current market position."

"Those clients he couldn't handle—you went behind the scenes to help him seal the deals."

"At every business dinner, when others toasted him, you took round after round of drinks for him, drinking until you threw up again and again."

And he never said a word about it.

"You gave that man everything, asking for nothing in return. You didn't ask for a stake in the company—you didn't even take a pay."

"And this is how he treated you." Ava's anger blazed brighter and brighter. "Rose, get a divorce. You have to."

The emotions churning inside me gradually settled, becoming clear and calm. My eyes held a certainty I'd never felt before. "I'm already drafting the divorce agreement. But before that, everyone who owes me has to pay me back."

Ava wrapped her arms around my shoulders, and a wave of emotion welled up inside her.

Oliver thought he'd married a pretty face; he had no idea what he'd actually gained.

"During that cyberattack, foreign hackers nearly crippled the nation's network. You and that person named ‘King' led the alliance in fighting all night long and repelled them before they could cause any substantial damage. If it hadn't been for your timely intervention, the entire system would have been paralyzed long ago."

A group of strangers who had never met before came together, united solely by a shared belief. Ava had always regretted not being able to take part.

Cute Son Fixes Our Marriage

Chapter 1 The Boy at the Door

My ex-husband, Rhett Ashford, despised me because of some other woman, so I took the money and walked. I didn't even fight for the kid.

Six years later, a little boy who looked exactly like Rhett showed up on my doorstep.

The kid had a bright yellow backpack slung over his shoulders and a deadpan expression way too serious for his age. "Rhett doesn't want me anymore," he announced. "So now I'm with you."

I just stood there, completely blindsided.

Before I could say a word, he tipped his chin up and started rattling off legal code with a straight face. "According to the law, parents are legally obligated to provide for their minor children..."

He wasn't even done talking when I stepped aside and cleared the doorway. "Come on in."

*****

The warm light hit his face, and his eyes lit up for just a second before he caught himself, let out a haughty little huff, and marched inside on his stubby legs.

The second the door closed, the kid, Oliver Ashford, started scoping out the place.

When he noticed me watching, he clutched his backpack straps for dear life, set his jaw, and introduced himself. "I'm Oliver."

The tone sat somewhere between making sure I knew who he was and staking his claim. He was Rhett's blood, and he wanted that understood.

He didn't need to tell me. That face was Rhett's carbon copy. I would've recognized him anywhere.

When I didn't react the way he expected, he deflated a little, puffing out his cheeks and turning his head away in a huff.

I hung up his eye-catching little backpack, took his hand, and led him to the sink. "Wash up first. Then we eat."

Oliver gave a quiet little "okay" and obeyed. By the time I had the food on the table, he'd already scrambled into the dining chair all by himself.

I asked him why he'd suddenly shown up.

Oliver poked at his vegetables with his fork, head hanging low, voice muffled and small. "We got in a fight. He threw stuff and told me to get out. Said I should never come back to the Ashfords."

So it was a runaway situation.

I thought about how the Ashfords had practically gone to war over custody of this kid six years ago, which nearly put me behind bars for doing it. They must be going out of their minds right now. I figured someone would show up to collect him any minute.

Watching this scene unfold in front of me, I didn't know what to feel.

I hadn't exactly been expecting company. All I had were two dishes and a soup.

Oliver was clearly a picky eater. No onions, no carrots. He picked through everything for ages, until the only thing left in his bowl was the vegetables he hated.

He glared at those greens like they owed him money, snuck a glance at me, then squeezed his eyes shut and choked them down like a soldier accepting his fate.

When he'd first walked in, he had that rich-kid swagger going. But now here he was, obediently finishing the vegetables he couldn't stand. The Ashfords had clearly raised him well. He probably hadn't suffered much.

That settled my nerves a bit. I cleaned up the dishes and waited for the Ashfords to come pick him up.

Nine-thirty rolled around, and not a soul showed.

Six-year-olds needed their sleep, and Oliver was fighting to keep his eyes open. He dug a pair of pajamas out of his backpack and surveyed my tiny one-bedroom with a wrinkled nose.

"Your place is so small. How come there's only one room? So I have to share a bed with you tonight?"

I checked the clock on the wall, wondering why Rhett still hadn't come, and shrugged. "Yeah, we'll make do for tonight."

I figured the pampered little prince would throw a fit.

Compared to the Ashford Mansion, this run-down rental was practically a shelter.

But Oliver just pressed his lips together, and a flicker of something almost like glee crossed his eyes.

He washed his face, changed into his pajamas, and clambered onto the bed all by himself, little legs kicking the whole way.

Just like at dinner, his mouth said one thing, but his actions told a different story. He ate every last bit of the vegetables I'd put on his plate.

Now he wormed around under the covers until he'd wrapped himself up like a little cocoon, with only his big eyes poking out. He fished a storybook from under the pillow and held it out to me.

"Aren't you gonna read me a bedtime story?"

Those eyes were overflowing with hope.

After I got Oliver to sleep, I pulled up the number that had been sitting in my blocked list for six years.

My thumb hovered over the screen for a long time. In the end, I couldn't press the button.

Rhett and I had ended the relationship six years ago.

Back when my family went bankrupt, the Ashfords arranged Rhett's engagement to Serena Shaw behind his back to protect their business interests.

Chapter 1 Transmigration

Sector A1, Garbage Planet A001.

The air was thick with a nauseating stench—a sharp, revolting cocktail of decaying filth that made every breath a struggle.

Elizabeth Schofield was fuming.

As a veteran Spiritual Botanist who ruled the cultivation world through farming—ahem, cultivating—she had been a VIP to every major sect, yet here she was, stuck in this mess.

Who wouldn't be fuming? One second, she was admiring a freshly harvested Divine Essence Root in her spiritual field; the next, she was trapped against a literal mountain of garbage, held down by a leering, deranged maniac with the worst of intentions.

"Hahaha! As expected of a high-born lady from a wealthy house! Look at this tender skin... It would be such a waste to let you die just yet. Let me just..." The man flashed a mouthful of yellowing teeth, closing in with a predatory sneer.

A wave of concentrated halitosis hit her full in the face, nearly sending the newly awakened Elizabeth straight back to the afterlife.

Damn it!

She might be a 'combat-weak' Spiritual Botanist, but that didn't mean any random trash could just step on her!

Her thoughts spun wildly, but her body reacted even faster.

Driven by pure instinct, the last trace of spiritual energy inside her surged into her fist, delivering a fatal blow straight toward his face!

Bang!

With a dull thud, the man who was gloating a second ago was sent flying like a tattered ragdoll.

He slammed down several feet away, clutching his chest and groaning in agony.

He's still breathing?

Elizabeth frowned, deeply displeased.

What happened to the sword aura that was supposed to kill even a Golden Core cultivator in one strike?

That was it? Seriously?

She instinctively raised her small fist, then froze at the sight of her bare fingers.

Where was the Golden Suncrow Ring on her pinky, the one housing three strands of Golden Suncrow sword aura—each one lethal enough to kill a Golden Core cultivator?

Where was the storage ring on her middle finger with half her life savings inside?

Ahh damn it! Whoever stole my things deserved to die!

Radiating pure killing intent, Elizabeth marched toward the man.

The man was scared out of his wits. Scrambling backward on all fours, he shrieked through a mess of tears and snot, "Ms. Elizabeth, spare me! Please, spare my life! It wasn't my fault! It was... it was the Madam! Madam Schofield made me do it!"

Ms. Elizabeth? Mrs. Schofield?

Elizabeth froze. It was as if two giant, physical question marks had just popped up over her head.

What kind of nonsense is this? Who's he even talking about?

She had no parents. She'd spent decades fighting her way through the cultivation world alone, relying on trickery—no, hard work and wisdom—to survive.

Wait. Where's my Divine Essence Root?

She clearly remembered reaching out to harvest it when Nine Heavens Divine Lightning thundered down.

That lightning could wipe out even top-level cultivators.

If it had truly locked onto her, how could she still be alive?

Not only alive, but seemingly unharmed?

Elizabeth checked herself. Aside from a body so fragile it looked like it would crumble in a light breeze, and the familiar long-sleeved clothes she wore, everything seemed intact.

So what exactly was going on?

Before she could think it through, a flood of unfamiliar memories slammed into her mind, leaving her dizzy and unsteady.

An interstellar world ... Federation Sector ... the prestigious Schofields ... a biased father ... a vicious stepmother ... a fake, two-faced half-sister ... a stolen fiancé...

Elizabeth was stunned.

She might—possibly—have transmigrated again.

Why "again"?

Because in the beginning, she'd just been an ordinary college student in the 21st century. One accident sent her into the cultivation world.

Now, a lightning tribulation had flung her straight from the cultivation world into this interstellar world.

Should she feel lucky ... or extra lucky?

After all, she had lived two more lives than most people.

From the memories, the original body owner was also named Elizabeth. She was the eldest daughter of the Schofields, one of the Five Great Families of the Interstellar Kingdom. Her life should've been full of luxury.

Chapter 1 The Awakening

He drew in a sharp breath.

Half asleep, Julian Vance felt warm breath tickling his ear, the tingling sensation sending an involuntary rush of heat through his body.

He jolted in shock.

His eyes snapped open.

Sure enough, it was the girl from last night.

She was draped over him, gazing down with a hazy look in her eyes.

Her beautiful face still carried a trace of last night's intoxication.

This isn't a dream. I really am back from the dead.

That was the first thought that crossed Julian's mind.

He only remembered scaling Mount Everest when Serena sneaked up, unhooked his safety harness, and shoved him off the cliff.

Serena Quinn, his fiancée.

She was the untouchable beauty of the financial world.

I still don't get it. We are about to get married.

I am ready to hand over the billions I bust my *ss for all my life.

Why does she want to kill me?

As the founder of Vance Capital, I am worth billions, known as the ultimate good guy in the industry.

Marrying me is a jackpot, isn't it?

While Julian was racking his brain, a soft moan broke his train of thought, followed by the press of smooth, soft skin.

The girl actually took the initiative, wrapping her limbs around him.

Catching her seductive expression and the overflowing desire in her unfocused eyes...

Julian threw his restraint out the window and pulled her fiercely into his arms.

Time faded away.

An hour later.

The girl finally drifted into a deep sleep, a satisfied smile on her lips.

Julian checked the time. It was only three in the morning.

They had already gone at it multiple times last night!

Her stamina is off the charts.

Studying that gorgeous, delicate face, Julian felt a bit puzzled.

Does a stunner like her really need to go out looking for a thrill?

If she just nods, countless guys will line up to be her lapdogs.

Recalling the bone-deep pleasure from moments ago, Julian sighed.

In his past life, he played the good guy and barely touched any women, so that sensation was a total first for him!

Hitting the jackpot on day one of my second life. Guess the man upstairs is looking out for me.

Pulling her near-perfect body into his embrace, Julian curled his lips into a smile and finally fell asleep.

Morning soon arrived.

"Ah!!!"

Early the next morning, a piercing scream echoed through Cupid's Arrow Motel.

The shriek was loud enough to wake the dead, jolting Julian from his sleep.

Julian opened his eyes to see the girl from last night staring at him, pale and completely freaked out.

She clutched the blanket tight, wrapping herself up like a burrito!

"Who... who are you?!

"How... how did I get here?!"

"Look, gorgeous, you came onto me last night, and you made the first move in bed... Don't tell me you blacked out."

Julian was lost for words.

He was just having a drink at Subzero Bar last night when she slid into the seat across from him.

Sure, she had a few too many, but she definitely initiated things!

Later on, she was all over him, hands roaming everywhere.

Otherwise, with his self-control, there was no way he'd just bring a random girl to a motel!

"I came onto you?"

Her face dropped further at Julian's words, her brows furrowing as she racked her brain.

As snippets of the night before started coming back to her, all the color drained from her face and she froze like a statue.

Seeing her blank stare, Julian shook his head in defeat, lighting a cigarette and hanging it between his lips.

After a long pause, she snapped out of her daze, her expression returning to an icy calm.

She looked up at Julian, totally deadpan.

"Turn around."

"What?"

Julian blinked in confusion.

Her expression grew even colder.

"I need to get dressed. Turn around!"

"I've already seen everything, what's there to... alright, alright, turning around."

Before he could finish, a death glare cut him off, leaving Julian no choice but to face the wall.

A few minutes later.

Fully dressed, the girl grabbed her purse and headed straight for the door.

Right at the threshold, something clicked. She spun around, locking her icy gaze on Julian, her voice freezing.

"We have absolutely nothing to do with each other from now on!

"And I don't want a single soul finding out about last night!"

Dropping that bomb, she walked out without giving Julian a chance to respond.

"D*mn, quite the switch from begging to rip my clothes off last night... She really is gonna act like nothing happened afterward."

Julian stood up, rolling his eyes as he put his clothes back on.

Suddenly, his eyes locked onto a crimson stain on the bedsheets, his gaze sharpening as he froze in his tracks.

"Holy sh*t?!

"How... how is that possible?!?"

Chapter 2 The Campus Queens

Unable to figure out what had actually gone down, Julian pushed the girl out of his mind and walked out of the motel.

Looking at Lincoln College of Finance just down the block, Julian finally accepted the hard truth: he had time-slipped back to the past.

Strolling through the familiar campus, taking in the young faces and the raw teenage hormones in the air, Julian felt a wave of nostalgia.

He never thought he'd end up back here after all these years.

To all the hot professors and campus queens from back in the day, I wonder how you're doing...

"Hey! Julian!"

A voice called out from nearby, making Julian look up.

Two girls were standing a few feet away.

The one in front was rocking a white dress.

She had fair skin, hair cascading down her shoulders, and a stunning, delicate face.

Topped off with light makeup, she was a total knockout to the average college guy.

Spotting her, Julian stopped dead in his tracks.

Memories came flooding back.

In his past life, he had only ever chased two women.

One he chased for all four years of college, only to be strung along with the excuse, "I'm not looking to date in college."

He had thought true love would win her over.

But on graduation day, she hopped right into a middle-aged sugar daddy's BMW!

The other was Serena Quinn, the untouchable beauty he met only after grinding through hell to build Vance Capital.

It was that seemingly innocent girl who made him believe in love again.

But it blew his mind.

Right when he trusted her the most, she pushed him off a cliff!

Good guys finish first?

What a load of absolute bullsh*t.

Julian looked at the pretty girl in the white dress, scoffing on the inside.

That's right.

This is Chloe Jenkins, the department beauty I wasted four years simping over!

"Julian, I might have been a bit harsh the other day, but I'm really not ready for a relationship right now."

Chloe walked up to him, glancing at the guy who supposedly skipped class for two days because of her rejection, and spoke coolly.

"But it's my birthday tonight, and you can totally swing by my party..."

A birthday party?

The old Julian would have been over the moon hearing that, bouncing back in a heartbeat!

Then he would've run off like a good little lapdog to buy her a present.

Too bad the current Julian was a completely different beast.

Hearing Chloe's words, Julian found it almost comical.

He remembered how it went down in his past life.

She pulled this exact same stunt, keeping him on the hook without saying yes or no, tossing him breadcrumbs of hope, ,aking him waste four golden college years on her!

And draining not just his time, but over half of his allowance and all the hard-earned cash from his part-time gigs!

Dining out.

Phones.

Clothes.

And all sorts of high-end makeup.

He poured everything into her.

Yet in four years, he barely even got to hold her hand.

Then, on graduation day, she didn't bat an eye before riding shotgun in some rich guy's BMW!

That was the day he finally snapped out of it and started his grind...

"Hey, Julian!"

Seeing Julian spacing out, Nina Lewis lost her patience.

"Are you deaf? Chloe's having her party at Le Cordon Restaurant tonight. Don't forget to bring a gift!"

A gift?

Classic.

Julian smirked, knowing Chloe was a total gold digger, and gave a brief nod.

"That's more like it."

Seeing him agree, Nina muttered under her breath before leaning in close to whisper, "Chloe's been dying for a new iPhone lately. It's all on you now..."

With that, she dragged Chloe off toward the lecture hall.

An iPhone?

Julian paused.

Right then, the memories of his past life rushed into his brain like a high-def movie!

Wait, what is going on?!

Am I watching a movie?

Julian stood frozen, experiencing the crystal-clear video playback in his head.

Even...

Even every dirty detail of him and Serena in bed was in 4K resolution!

Every look of pure bliss.

Every twitch and shiver of her body.

Even those soul-stirring moans...

Holy crap, is this the perk of getting a second chance?

He inhaled sharply.

Feeling his teenage hormones kicking into overdrive, Julian took a deep breath!

He quickly shoved his hands in his pockets to adjust himself...

Connecting the dots between the iPhone and the birthday party, Julian locked it in: he had slipped back to 2012.

He was a sophomore at Lincoln College of Finance.

He was currently chasing Chloe like a madman.

Today was Chloe's birthday.

In his past life, on this exact day.

He scraped together every penny, even dipping into his next few months of living expenses, just to buy her an iPhone 4S.

But at the party, she threw a fit because it wasn't the latest iPhone 5.

Chloe even accepted an iPhone 5 from a rich kid right in front of him.

And then gave him the cold shoulder for months.

She only talked to him again on Christmas, after he busted his hump to buy her a luxury makeup set.

Man, I was the ultimate simp!

Julian wanted to facepalm just thinking about his old self.

"Look, it's Julian, the hopeless romantic!"

"Hopeless romantic my foot, he's just a lapdog... Hehe, look at him, panting like a stray. So pathetic..."

"Hey, you gotta admit, the simp is pretty cute though..."

A group of girls walked past, gossiping about him.

Julian snapped back to reality, wanting to cry after hearing their chatter.

Is this really how everyone saw me back then?

"Heh, playing the good guy really is a dog's game!"

Thinking back on his pathetic past life, Julian wanted to smack himself.

"Screw it, since I've got a second chance, I am not wasting this life like the last one!

"A birthday gift, huh?"

Thinking about Chloe's party tonight, a mischievous smirk played on Julian's lips.

Just then, the gossiping girls caught sight of someone approaching and scurried off in a panic.

"Oh snap, it's Evelyn Harper, let's get out of here..."

Down by the library, a breathtakingly elegant figure strolled their way.

Standing tall at five-foot-seven.

Wearing a simple white dress.

Fair, slender legs and hair tied up in a high ponytail.

Her skin was pale as snow, her flawless face exuding an untouchable, frosty aura.

She gave off a vibe that screamed "look but don't touch", making anyone near her feel hopelessly out of their league.

Compared to Chloe, she was on a completely different planet in both looks and class.

The student council president, universally crowned the top campus queen of Lincoln College.

Evelyn Harper.

But seeing this college goddess, Julian dropped his jaw.

"Huh? General Manager Harper?"

Chapter 3 Don't Waste the Bad Girls

His eyes locked onto Evelyn's flawless, icy face.

Julian spaced out for a second.

For a brief moment, he couldn't tell if he was in his past life or the present...

Because the girl standing right there was the former general manager of Vance Capital's Valmont branch.

His direct subordinate!

The legendary corporate queen of the domestic stock market!

He remembered it clearly from his last life.

After he crushed this business goddess in the market, she joined Vance Capital and played a massive role in their explosive growth.

Nobody would have ever guessed that...

Beneath that proud, frigid exterior, this corporate titan had a deep-seated craving to be dominated!

Remembering how uniquely she treated him back then, Julian swallowed hard...

Catching Julian staring at her like an idiot,

Evelyn shot him a look of pure disgust and sped off toward the girls' dorm.

Watching Evelyn's killer figure walk away, Julian could only chuckle bitterly.

It's not like he could just walk up and say, "Hey, I'm your boss from the future," right?

She'd probably write him off as a psycho and slap him across the face...

Julian started connecting the dots.

She actually went to the same undergrad college, just two years ahead of him.

Not only was she drop-dead gorgeous, but she was also Lincoln College's top academic weapon.

Even before graduating, she scored a free ride to Valmont University for her master's.

Paired with her god-tier aura, she was practically untouchable on campus!

In his past life, they were in two totally different leagues and never crossed paths.

Julian shoved those thoughts aside.

He had way bigger fish to fry right now.

With his high-def memories from the future, plus his years of startup grind and killer business instincts, slapping a few extra zeros onto his past net worth would be a piece of cake!

Not to mention, it was 2012—the golden era of the mobile tech boom.

He could get a head start on all the moves he missed out on before!

Thinking about how domestic tech giants were constantly suffocated and sanctioned by foreign monopolies...

And the arrogant, top-down attitude of those overseas tycoons, Julian snorted.

Since he was getting a do-over, he was gonna shake things up...

Time ticked by.

The moment he stepped into the dorm, a beefy guy threw an arm around Julian's shoulders.

"Jay, where were you last night? You need me to grab a beer with you?"

Hearing that familiar voice hit Julian like a truck.

It was Victor Steele, the big bro of the dorm and his ride-or-die from his past life.

In his past life, Victor caught a heavy prison sentence over a girl and never got out.

Seeing his boy full of life again, Julian was hyped beyond belief.

"What's wrong, Jay?"

Victor noticed Julian's weird expression and pinned it on Chloe.

"Screw it, she's just a girl!

"For real, Jay, what's so great about Chloe? So she's pretty, big deal! She struts around like she owns the place!

"I heard it's her birthday tonight. If you're short on cash, I got you covered..."

Julian finally snapped back to reality.

He shot Victor a grateful smile, patted his pocket, and flashed a confident grin.

"Thanks, Vic, but I'm good. I've got enough stacked away."

"Whoa, looks like our boy is ready to break the bank!"

A scrawny guy popped up, grinning from ear to ear.

"Jay, I heard you're looking to cop an iPhone for your dream girl. Want me to hook you up? I can get you a steal!"

This was Cameron Ross, a hustler who was always running side gigs around campus.

Snacks, drinks, gadgets, supplements—you name it, he dealt it.

But the wildest thing Julian remembered about him...

In his past life, this dude actually ran a referral hustle for the local women's clinics!

Funneling all the careless college couples over there... The guy made a killing off the commissions!

"I'll pass on the phone."

Julian shook his head.

"But Cam, I heard you got ties with the Liberty Business Syndicate. Mind doing me a favor?

"Word is they run a massive car rental down by the downtown business district. I need a ride for tonight..."

"A ride?" Cameron totally blanked out hearing Julian's request.

Even though he had no clue how Julian knew about his connections...

He didn't even skip a beat before shutting him down.

"Sorry, Jay, but I don't really know them like that. I can't help you out here..."

"Two grand for the night, and I'll return it with a full tank." Julian cut him off with a smile.

"Two grand?"

Hearing that number, Cameron's ears perked right up.

He knew the street prices for rentals, and that offer was top dollar.

"Yep, but it can't be some beater. Has to be a luxury brand."

Julian nodded, dropping his conditions.

"Give me a sec, Jay. Let me ring up Mr. Sterling."

Unable to resist the cash, Cameron whipped out his phone and stepped aside.

Julian was right on the money; Cameron was tight with the Syndicate.

One of his distant cousins was actually in the crew.

And half the private clinics, gas stations, and rental lots in Westbridge were run by them.

A minute later, Cameron hung up and bounced back, looking hyped.

"Jay, you're locked in!

"Mr. Sterling said he can hook you up with a BMW 5 Series, but you can't drive it yourself. You gotta use their chauffeur..."

"No sweat." Julian nodded. Having a driver was even better.

"Julian, why are you renting a car? Don't tell me this is for Chloe's birthday?"

Victor and the boys swapped confused looks, wondering why Julian swapped a phone for a rental car.

Julian just smirked, keeping his mouth shut.

These guys clearly didn't understand the sheer firepower of a luxury car yet.

Money isn't meant to be spent on women, it's meant to be flexed on them...

After all, that quote hadn't blown up on the internet yet.

But beyond that line, another quote was burned even deeper into his brain.

Don't let down the good girls.

Don't waste the bad girls.

A few hours later.

Six o'clock in the evening.

Le Cordon Restaurant, right by Lincoln College.

"Wow, this place is gorgeous! Way better than the dump Julian took us to last time!"

Stepping inside, the girls practically had stars in their eyes.

"Duh, Marcus Thorne booked this specially for Chloe!

"And Le Cordon is the fanciest spot in town! No way those dive bars can compete!

"Besides, Marcus's family runs a whole restaurant chain with branches all over Westbridge! Julian's just a broke college kid..."

Nina acted like she knew it all, nudging Chloe with a smirk.

"Chloe, Marcus pulled out all the stops for you. Maybe you should just go home with him tonight? Hehe..."

Hearing Nina's teasing, Chloe actually considered it for a second.

Marcus was a notorious rich kid from the music department, and one of her biggest orbiters.

Sure, he wasn't as hot as Julian and his body count was a bit high, but his family was loaded.

The guy was only a sophomore and already driving a Honda Civic paid for by his folks.

Word on the street was he bought his girlfriends Louis Vuitton bags!

He was leagues ahead of Julian, who survived on a few hundred bucks a month.

She never expected him to go all out for her like this...

Just as they reached the private room, a stocky guy decked out in a tracksuit marched up with a bouquet of roses. It was Marcus.

"Happy birthday, Chloe!"

"Thanks."

Blushing slightly, Chloe took the roses.

Taking in Chloe's pretty face and killer curves, Marcus gulped hard, totally mesmerized.