Halt His Wandering Heart

"Mr. Lannister, Madam has given birth, but she's hemorrhaging badly…"

"Let her."

"And the child?"

"If it dies, dispose of it."

…

When Lizzie Bennet forced her eyes open, she found herself seated in a car on the way to a charity banquet.

The autumn wind was cool, the sunlight harsh, and beads of sweat clung to the tip of her nose.

Hadn't she already died on the delivery bed?

She remembered the blood that wouldn't stop flowing, the panic of doctors and nurses, the endless gauze shoved into her body.

And then, as consciousness slipped away, she had heard Cedric Lannister's cold, heartless voice.

"Let her die."

Her throat was raw, unable to form words, yet still she had begged in silence, 'No… please, no…'

What came next was even crueller.

"The child… did it survive?"

"Mr. Lannister, the child is alive."

"Send it to the orphanage."

He had abandoned even his own flesh and blood.

Crushed beneath despair, she died earlier than the doctors had predicted.

"Madam, we've arrived." The chauffeur's tone was courteous as he opened the car door. "Mr. Lannister is waiting for you."

Gathering herself, Lizzie steadied her emotions before stepping down.

In the distance, she spotted Cedric conversing with several guests.

Tall and lean, he wore a tailored, handmade suit, his refined features coldly handsome. A casual lift of his arm revealed diamond cufflinks flashing brilliantly beneath the sun.

The cufflinks had been her wedding anniversary gift to him.

But then, they glimmered between the slender fingers of the girl standing behind him.

"Lizzie."

Within a few steps, Cedric was in front of her, introducing the girl at his side.

"This is Susan Redding. She was assigned to us during a disaster relief effort. That earthquake took her entire family, leaving her with anxiety. I want to bring her home and have you look after her until she's well enough to return to school. What do you think?"

He turned to Susan and said, "Greet Lizzie."

"Hello, Lizzie." Susan's head remained lowered.

Lizzie's gaze lingered on the girl's shy, delicate face.

Moments ago, she had suspected she had been reborn.

Now, she was certain.

She had come back to the very day Cedric introduced Susan into her world.

In her previous life, Cedric had loved the appearance of philanthropy but never invested more than money or the occasional speech at a school or visit to a nursing home. Everything was done with the company's interests in mind.

But this—this was different.

For the first time, he was desperate to bring someone home.

He had given his heart away.

In his eyes, Lizzie saw hunger… a craving to chain this girl to his side… a craving to erase his wife from his life.

"All right," Lizzie said.

Surprise flickered across his face. "You agree?"

She saw the restrained joy in his eyes, the eagerness he fought to hide, and let out a bitter laugh.

"Yes."

What a pity. They had once been childhood sweethearts, a perfect match.

He had once flown three hours just to deliver her favorite pastries. Back then, everyone said Cedric loved her madly.

He had pursued her for seven years before she finally said yes.

Married for three, he had spoiled her to the bone—aching whenever her brows so much as furrowed, never absent on days that mattered.

He made her believe in the illusion that even if every man in the world betrayed, he never would.

She had been wrong.

When a man loves, he truly loves—lifting her to the clouds, making her feel she ruled the world. But when he stops, he can just as easily cast her into hell.

She had overestimated his devotion, underestimated how ruthless a man could be once his heart turned.

Susan's appearance had been the spark that lit the fire of his betrayal.

In her past life, Lizzie had sensed the shift. She had tried to assert her place, warning Susan again and again not to mess with their marriage.

But Cedric no longer loved her. He had already lost his moral boundaries.

When Susan appeared before her with a neck marked by Cedric's kisses, Lizzie had collapsed.

Lizzie had paid Susan off, sent her out of Summersome City, hoping never to see her again.

But fate had other cruelties. That very night, Susan was assaulted and murdered in a scene so bloody and brutal it haunted the city.

Her death became the fuse that detonated their marriage.

The dead Susan became Cedric's eternal, unforgettable scar.

From then on, he no longer came home. The tabloids showed him with women who all bore her likeness.

It was his way of humiliating Lizzie—announcing to the world that even a substitute could crush his wife.

She knew then that he hated her and wished her dead.

So when she bled out on the delivery bed, he had been able to order her death without hesitation.

But Heaven had granted her rebirth.

This time, she would let them have each other.

"Lizzie, are you upset?" Cedric's voice pulled her back. "Susan won't stay long. She's a sensible girl. She won't be any trouble."

"Is that so?" Lizzie lifted her eyes again, studying Susan.

Fair skin, long lashes, soft pink lips. Eighteen, with a simple ponytail that carried a dangerous allure.

Susan dared not meet Lizzie's gaze. She shrunk behind Cedric whenever spoken to—a reflex that betrayed familiarity.

They weren't meeting for the first time.

Their bond had already taken root.

Only she had been kept in the dark.

Her eyes shifted from Susan's timid face to Cedric's intense gaze.

His expression was layered, tinged with the unease of a man afraid of losing face if she refused.

In her past life, at the faintest sign of another woman, Lizzie had screamed, cried, threatened her life—because in her heart, Cedric belonged to her, until death.

Not anymore.

He no longer loved her. Why should she cling?

"If Susan is to stay with us, then let her. I'll take care of her."

Relief washed over him, his shoulders loosening. He wrapped an arm around her waist and brushed a kiss across her forehead. "I knew you wouldn't mind."

Lizzie's lips curled into a faint, mocking smile.

It wasn't that she didn't mind. She just didn't care anymore. She'd stopped caring when he'd ordered her death on the delivery bed.

She had never even seen her child's face.

She wouldn't be a fool again.

"Susan, would you like to come with me? We'll pick out some things you like—otherwise Cedric will say I don't know how to take care of people," Lizzie said.

"I'll take whatever you prepare," Susan murmured, lashes lowered. "I'm not picky."

"She's just allergic to mango," Cedric added. "Avoid it in food and drinks."

A sharp pang stabbed Lizzie's chest. She smiled faintly. "Got it."