Chapter 2

"Bonds?"

Carrie's breathing quickened.

"But…" I shifted the tone of my voice, a faint sigh escaping my lips. "That batch of bonds has a three-year lock-in period. They can only be redeemed when it expires."

I paused awhile, letting a trace of regret soften my gaze.

"And… you know what my mother was like—superstitious to the bone. Before she passed, she made it clear that someone must observe mourning for her for three years before disturbing her grave. Otherwise, the fortune's energy would scatter."

Carrie's eyes gleamed with greed.

Three years of mourning in exchange for a fortune beyond imagination.

She looked at me as though I were a fool. A fool who had stumbled upon a mountain of gold, only to give it away with her own hands.

"Carrie," I said, "I'm about to marry the Hudson heir. Whether I live or die… who can say? I won't be able to keep that money safe. So let it be my gift to you, as sisters."

Whatever wariness had lingered in Carrie's eyes melted away, replaced by unrestrained greed.

"Don't worry, Jessica," she said, patting my hand with exaggerated warmth. "I'll guard that money for you. Every last bit of it. And you… take care of yourself in the Hudson family, all right?"

That very afternoon, under the pretense of "observing mourning for my mother," Carrie packed her things and left for the countryside.

Nick and my stepmother were puzzled but ultimately relented. After all, what could possibly be hidden beneath a dilapidated rural grave?

I stood by the upstairs window, watching her car disappear down the road, and a slow smile curved my lips.

There was indeed something inside that safe. But not bonds worth a fortune.

What it held were my birth certificate, proving my true identity, and all the evidence my mother had gathered before her death—proof of Nick's financial crimes.

In my previous life, I'd been so close to retrieving them. But before I could act, I'd been forced into the Hudson family's marriage, my revenge left unfinished.

This time, I'd let that fool guard the evidence for me.

Once I handled Will, I would bring everything into the light.

A week later, I received my marriage certificate and was escorted by the Hudson family's car to their villa.

The butler opened the car door with a stiff, impassive face. "Ms. Wheaton, Mr. Hudson is waiting for you in his study."

I nodded and followed him inside.

The first time I'd walked through these halls in my previous life, my legs had trembled so violently I could barely stand. Every step was cautious and terrified.

Now, as I walked down the same familiar corridor, my heart was still and calm.

The door to the study opened.

And there he was—Will.

He wore a dark robe, seated in his wheelchair, a cashmere blanket draped across his knees. Sunlight poured through the tall windows, touching his shoulders but never reaching his eyes.

"You're Nick's daughter?" His voice was low and cold, roughened by a touch of hoarse darkness.

"Yes," I replied.

At last, his gaze lifted to me. Contempt flickered openly in those sharp, predatory eyes.

"Don't think I don't know you're a fake." His lip curled faintly. "I expected him to send me his precious jewel, not a fake."

I didn't answer. I simply met his stare in silence.

Because I knew—his weakness, his helplessness—was nothing but an act.

In my past life, I'd fallen for it. I'd pitied him, served him, given him everything I had. And in return, he'd only found more ways to break me.

"Get out." His tone turned dismissive, eyes cold with disinterest. "Don't let me see you again. You disgust me."

That was how our wedding night began.

Exactly as it had in my last life.

But this time, I didn't panic. I didn't flinch or look away.

Outside the study, the butler and several servants stood at a distance, watching me with quiet pity in their eyes.