Chapter 1

Sydney

The sharp sounds of silverware hitting plates filled the dining room as we gathered for yet another ‘family dinner.’

I, for one, hadn’t touched my food, not that anyone noticed.

I had no appetite. I was too deep in my own disbelief and grappling with my thoughts to care about food.

Here I am, experiencing the worst day of my life.

“You know, some women bring more than their charm and an image to a family.” This came from my father-in-law, Chairman Stanley, as he began his usual backhanded sarcasm towards me anytime we had dinner together.

His voice was smooth, cold, and calculated as he swirled the wine in his glass.

Of course, his ever-willing ally, Yanique— my sister-in-law, and the worst pain in the ass—was there to back him.

His sharp eyes flicked to me for a moment before settling on his daughter. “Others, unfortunately, seem content to coast on the hard work of others.”

Yanique smirked, setting her glass down with a soft clink.

“Oh, I know, Father,” she replied, her tone dripping with faux innocence. “Some women think that just wearing the title of ‘Mrs.’ is enough. I guess it’s easy to relax when Daddy’s influence is always there to protect them.”

Her eyes darted to me, her gaze gleaming with malice. I sat perfectly still, my hands resting lightly in my lap as if her words were nothing more than background noise. I’ve heard it all before, anyway. I knew better than to react. I kept my expression blank, refusing to give her the satisfaction.

Chairman Stanley’s gaze lingered on me as he continued, “Eric, I must say, you’ve been remarkably patient. Three years, and still no heir. I suppose we should commend your loyalty, though I do wonder how long it will last.”

I briefly looked at my husband, seeing him staring down at his plate, though obviously not eating anymore.

My hands tightened slightly on the fabric of my dress, but I said nothing. This was how every dinner with the Stanleys played out, anyway—sharp words and veiled insults, all directed at me.

My mother-in-law shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She glanced at me, her lips pressed into a thin line. I knew that look well—pity mixed with fear, the fear of speaking out against her husband.

“Dear,” she began tentatively, “perhaps we should—”

“Don’t defend her,” Chairman Stanley snapped, cutting her off with a glare. “You’ve been coddling her from the start.”

I clenched my fists under the table, my nails digging into my palms. Coddling? They nodded at our marriage for the power grasped in my father’s hand, and they have been nothing but mean to me, all because they knew I loved him too much to leave.

Looking at their despicable faces, I snorted in my mind.

“She doesn’t even have the decency to look ashamed,” he added, his sharp eyes locking onto mine. “Look at her. Sitting there like she doesn’t care. If circumstances were different, I’d have annulled this sham of a marriage years ago.”

“You should have,” Yanique added with a snort. She leaned back in her chair, her perfectly manicured nails tapping against her wine glass. “We all know why he married her anyway.”

“Yan,” Eric warned sharply, his calm facade cracking slightly. “Stay out of this.”

“Why? Am I wrong?” Yanique smirked, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “She’s no longer any use to you now, and we all know it.”

I felt her words like tiny needles, pricking at my skin. But I didn’t flinch, didn’t cry. I simply looked at her, my expression cold and unyielding. That seemed to irritate her even more.

“See?” she scoffed, gesturing at me. “She doesn’t even care. She’s just sitting there, acting like she’s untouchable.”

Chairman Stanley’s face twisted into evident distaste. “Exactly. She has no shame. No respect. If she had any dignity left, she’d leave on her own.”

“Enough!” Eric’s voice was firm now, cutting through the noise of accusations like a knife. He stood, placing his hands on the table as he addressed his father. “Stop attacking my wife.”

The room fell silent. All eyes were on him, including mine, waiting for this to play out again. My husband rarely intervened in these situations, and his sudden defence of me was shocking to everyone else, but almost laughable to me now that I knew the truth.

“This family isn’t built on tearing each other apart,” Eric continued, his voice calm but resolute. “This is what I wanted to talk about today. I have decided to adopt. The child will carry my name, and he will call my wife ‘Mom.’ But I won’t tolerate this kind of disrespect toward her anymore.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Mr. Stanley’s mouth opened and closed, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just heard. Yanique stared at her brother, her expression a mixture of shock and disbelief.

As for me, I remained seated, my face carefully blank. Inside, though, I was anything but calm.

Eric sat back down, his expression unreadable. My mother-in-law sent me a small, apologetic smile, though it did nothing to ease the tension in the room. Mr. Stanley glared at his son, his face red with suppressed rage, but he said nothing more.

I should have felt grateful. I was. In my last life. My husband had just stood up for me in front of his family for the first time. It was the happiest day in my marriage life, thinking that he cared for me.

And I don’t just mean the first two years of marriage. I meant the entire four years total, including the two years I have yet to live before I die.

Yes, I died. And I was reborn.

But not to a time before this miserable marriage, when I could have avoided this life entirely. No, I woke up to this very day. This day that doomed me.

The day that started all my suffering.

Back then, I was so touched, watching him stand his ground for me, that I gave him everything, including my entire inheritance from my father. Then he killed that father, whose only fault was loving me too much.

I had been such a fool.

Because I knew now what I didn’t know then.

The child he would one day adopt wasn’t an orphan. He was the bastard Eric had fathered with his mistress—the woman he’d been with all along while I wasted away.