I gave him my loyalty, my body… even a kidney to save his life. And how did he thank me? He set me on fire.” Sheila thought she understood love. She believed in marriage, in sacrifice, in standing by the man you build a life with. But the man she trusted faked his death, stole her organ, and left her drowning in debt. Then, when she was of no use to him, he burned her alive to erase her from his perfect world. Only, Sheila didn’t die. She woke up in the bruised, broken body of another woman; a coma patient who had been struck by a powerful doctor now living with guilt. He tends to her. He doesn’t know who she truly is. And she’s not here to be saved. She’s here to settle the score. Disguised as a maid in her ex-husband’s house, Sheila keeps her head down and her eyes open. His new mistress is carrying his child—his secretary, the one he always said she was "crazy" for suspecting. The deeper she digs, the darker it gets. Money laundering. Organ trafficking. Even her kidney? Sold. But the past can’t stay buried forever. One night, he sees the birthmark on her thigh, the same one his wife had. The same one that died in the fire. He starts to unravel. She starts to rise. And when she returns to him fully reborn, fearless, and armed with evidence, he’ll finally understand: She’s not the weak wife he silenced. She’s the reckoning he never saw coming.
view moreSheila’s POV
I woke up to the smell of smoke in the air, coughing. The air was thick and suffocating. My lungs screamed for relief, but I could only wheeze. “What... what’s happening?” I jolted, sitting up. Smoke curled through the room, thick and black, swallowing every shadow. The heat was unbearable.My nightgown stuck to my skin, which was already sweaty. I got out of bed and staggered to the window, my heart racing. “Help!” I screamed, throwing it open, gasping for air. “Someone help me!” The night was so quiet. No neighbors. No sirens. Just flames cracking behind me burning fast towards me like it wants to consume me. That’s when I saw him. Standing by the edge of the driveway, lit by the glow of the burning house, was Adrian,my husband. My “dead” husband. His arms were crossed, his face calm. No panic, no urgency. Just a slow, smug smile as he leaned against his sleek black car. I froze. He lifted his hand… and waved. Then he got in the car. And drove away. “No,” I whispered. “No, no, no, no…” There and then, everything clicked at once, like a slap to my soul. Earlier today. The bank. Him. Alive. “You’re evicting me?” I blinked at the bank manager. I was forced to go to the bank today after getting an eviction notice from them, trying to see if I could get an extension just like the last time. “I’m sorry, ma’am. The mortgage hasn’t been paid in over six months. The house is no longer under your name.” “Could you give me a few weeks? I promise, I’ll come up with the mortgage plus interest, even.” I pleaded, my eyes filled with tears. “My hands are tied, there’s nothing more we can do for you.” He replied. “But, but I just…” “We already sent the notice. You need to vacate by the end of the week.” I walked out of the bank, dazed, clutching the thin stack of rejection papers like they could hold me together. My stomach twisted. My head pounded. How could I owe so much? Where had the money gone? What should I do? I didn't even know I had walked out of the bank and into the street until I heard tires screeching. I turned, in shock and then I saw him. Crossing the street, alive and well, in a tailored gray suit with sunglasses on his smug, familiar face, Adrian. The man who was supposed to be dead. I dropped my bag. “Adrian?” I called. He turned, froze… then smirked. “You… you’re alive?” I gasped, storming toward him. “You faked your death?!” He sighed like I was a pest. “I don’t have time for this,” he said flatly, trying to walk past. I blocked him. “You left me buried in debt! You let me think you died in that accident!” He grabbed my arm. “Watch your mouth.” he said, gritting his teeth. “I worked four jobs to cover for you!” I shouted. “I sold my family home! I donated a kidney for you, Adrian! And you.. you just vanished?” I stammered. He looked bored. “You were useful. Now you’re not.” “Useful?” My voice cracked. “I was your wife!” He chuckled. “You were a placeholder. You should be grateful I kept you around as long as I did.” I stared at him, in disbelief. “You’re a monster.” “Call me what you want,” he sneered. “But don’t think you can run your mouth and get away with it.” I shook with rage. “I’ll expose you. I swear, I will…” He slapped me. Hard. I stumbled, the taste of blood sharp in my mouth. “Expose me?” he whispered, stepping closer. “You won’t get the chance. I should’ve silenced you long ago. Consider this your final warning.” I laughed bitterly, tears in my eyes. “You won’t get away with this.” He leaned in, cold and cruel. “Oh, sweetheart… I already have.” --- Now I understood what he meant. I ran for the door, but the hallway was an inferno. Flames licked the walls, swallowing the curtains, dancing over the pictures, our wedding photo turning into black ash. I screamed and turned back, coughing, crawling toward the bathroom, but smoke had filled it too. I couldn’t breathe. “Help!” I choked. “Please!” No answer. Just fire, roaring like a beast set loose. This was no accident. He meant every word. He set this fire. He really meant to kill me. I staggered to the window again, but the flames were too close now. My lungs were failing. My vision blurred. This was it. I dropped to my knees. He betrayed me. He used me. I gave him everything. My money. My time. My body. My kidney. And he left me to die. I lay down on the floor as the ceiling groaned, ready to collapse. I don’t want to die. Not like this. Not for him. I clenched my hands together, trembling. “If there’s anyone out there, anything. I don’t care if it’s God or the devil…” I whispered, “Give me another chance. Just one more. Let me come back. Let me make him pay.” A sudden roar cracked through the house. Then a blinding explosion of orange, red and white… And darkness. Until… I gasped My lungs drew breath like it hadn’t in days. Cold, sharp, sterile air. I bolted upright, drenched in sweat. My heart was thundering against my ribs. My fingers clawed at the sheets beneath me, clean sheets. Smooth. Not ash. Not blood. Not flames. I looked around, my eyes widened. White walls. Dim light. A faint beeping sound. A hospital? What...? I touched my face. My chest. My legs. I was alive. No burns. No fire. Just... me. I blinked hard. Once. Twice. My breath caught in my throat. Was it a dream? I reached for my arm. The one that had blistered in the fire… it was smooth. Then I looked toward the window. A city skyline blinked back at me, shining lights stretching across the night. Like nothing had happened. “What... the hell?”The wine splashed across my laps, dark red and sticky. It soaked into the thin maid’s uniform, cold and humiliating.She had feigned clumsiness, clumsy, my foot. She had aimed that glass of red wine towards me, smiling sweetly as it crashed down my front and splashed across my apron.I stood at the sink in the staff quarters, scrubbing furiously. The fabric wouldn't let go of the stain. The water ran ice cold, but it didn’t matter. I kept scrubbing.Behind me, whispers floated.“She’s always picking on Rachel.”“Yeah, what did she even do to Madam Vanessa?”I didn’t turn around, let them talk, let them guess.They weren’t wrong, though. Vanessa did target me. But not for no reason.Earlier that day, the meeting Adrian was supposed to have today? The one marked with a red star in the notebook I found tucked between his cufflinks?It never happened.I called the number labeled “Investor—HK Group” last night, using a fake accent and a burner phone. Told him Adrian had double-booked and
Adrian’s voice was low, almost a whisper. “Sheila?”My spine stiffened. My fingers paused just a beat too long over the folded sheets in my handI stood there,pretending like I hadn’t heard him. Pretending like my entire soul hadn’t jolted awake at the sound of my name, my real name.I could feel his eyes. Not on my face, not even on the stolen notebook hidden under my apron. He was staring, no, burning a hole into the hem of my skirt, where the faint curve of the birthmark had peeked out when I turned.I straightened, face blank, and said.“Are you okay, sir?” I asked, calm as water.He didn’t answer. His eyes were still locked on the spot, color draining from his face.“You seem really obsessed with that mark…” I tilted my head, adding a soft, puzzled frown. “You look pale. Maybe you need to sit down?”I smoothed my apron, pretending not to notice how Adrian's pupils had dilated. His voice had cracked, and for a man like him, that was a sin. He blinked fast like he could erase what
The sun hit my face like it hadn’t seen me in years. In a way, it hadn’t.I squinted at the light as I stepped out of the hospital, holding a small paper bag with donated clothes and a cheap phone Sebastian had picked up for me.“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sebastian asked beside me, his tone soft but cautious.I gave a small nod. “I’m fine. More than fine, actually. Thank you… for everything.”“You don’t owe me anything,” he replied quickly.“Just… keep in touch, okay?”“I will,” I said, gripping the phone tighter. “Thanks again, Dr. Wolfe.”“Sebastian,” he corrected with a gentle smile.I watched him walk away, his white coat fluttering behind him. He had no idea that the woman he saved wasn’t the one everyone thought she was and I had no plans to tell him.My first step toward revenge had already been set.Finding Adrian wasn’t hard.Of course it wouldn’t be. He never did like to keep a low profile. A few fake documents under the name Rachel Zane, a convincing resume, and a strategi
Was that… a dream?” I whispered to no one.But how? Did someone rescue me from the fire?I lifted my arm. Smooth. No burns. I looked at my hands, unscathed. My skin was paler than I remembered. My nails, trimmed short and neatly manicured, weren’t mine. I frowned.“I shouldn’t look like this,” I murmured, pushing the blanket off and sitting up slowly.There was no pain. No bandages. No scars.I swung my legs over the side of the bed. I needed answers.Stumbling toward the polished metal sink across the room, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror above it.I froze.The woman staring back at me wasn’t… me.Her eyes were a shade lighter. Her hair was straighter, darker. Her face… more delicate, like it had never tasted hardship. I leaned closer, touching the glass.“What the hell…”Did I… undergo plastic surgery? But why wasn’t I covered in bandages?Shaking, I pulled up the flimsy hospital gown and turned to check my left thigh.There it was.That small, oval birthmark. The exac
Sheila’s POVI woke up to the smell of smoke in the air, coughing. The air was thick and suffocating. My lungs screamed for relief, but I could only wheeze.“What... what’s happening?” I jolted, sitting up.Smoke curled through the room, thick and black, swallowing every shadow. The heat was unbearable.My nightgown stuck to my skin, which was already sweaty. I got out of bed and staggered to the window, my heart racing.“Help!” I screamed, throwing it open, gasping for air. “Someone help me!”The night was so quiet. No neighbors. No sirens. Just flames cracking behind me burning fast towards me like it wants to consume me.That’s when I saw him.Standing by the edge of the driveway, lit by the glow of the burning house, was Adrian,my husband. My “dead” husband.His arms were crossed, his face calm. No panic, no urgency. Just a slow, smug smile as he leaned against his sleek black car.I froze.He lifted his hand… and waved.Then he got in the car. And drove away.“No,” I whispered. “N
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