The Heiress' Comeback

I died on an unbearably cold winter night.

I thought I could hold on until the warmth of spring returned, but Victor Harlow didn’t have the patience to wait.

Without anesthetic, the scalpel cut into my chest, inch by inch, blood gushing like a spring.

And yet, his hatred wasn’t satisfied.

He raised his arm, driving the icy blade straight into my heart.

The excruciating pain nearly suffocated me.

Struggling, I gasped out a question, “Why?”

I truly couldn’t understand.

We grew up together, childhood sweethearts from families with generations of close ties.

For so many years, my father supported the Harlow Corporation, paving the way for his rise to power.

Even after he gained full control of the company, we never once sought to exploit him.

But he manipulated the stock market, fabricated scandals, and forced the Grant family to ruin.

“Why, Victor?” I desperately clutched his tie.

Victor glared at me with burning hatred. Though he was the one killing me, his expression was as if I had betrayed him.

“This is what you and your family owe Yvonne.”

He leaned down, his voice colder than the winter wind outside the window.

Yvonne?

Yvonne Sullivan?

The memory was so distant it took me a moment to recall that name and that delicate, pitiful face.

A bitter laugh escaped me.

It had been ten years.

Victor had never forgotten her.

He had pinned her death on me and the entire Grant family.

“Victor, you’re such a—”

Fool.

Before I could finish the final word, Victor pulled the scalpel from my chest.

Crimson blood gushed out, blurring my vision.

The pain was unbearable.

…

“Miss, are you having another headache?”

There was no icy, damp cellar, and no howling winds surrounding me.

Instead, the room was a haven of warmth and elegance, alive with the soft clinking of glasses and the hum of lively conversation.

Outside the window, neon lights flickered, and the city pulsed with life.

I stood on the terrace of a luxurious hotel, overlooking this sleepless metropolis.

This was my 23rd birthday party.

I had been reborn.

Not only was I alive and well, but I had returned to ten years ago.

This was the year the Grant Corporation had just completed a major international acquisition and successfully gone public.

This was the year I had yet to become Victor’s wife.

“Isn’t it enough to give anyone a headache?”

A snide voice came from behind me.

“After all, Mr. Harlow has spent the last three days publicly declaring in the media that he’s breaking off the engagement with the Grant family.”

I stopped my assistant, Emily, from speaking up in my defense.

The situation was far more complicated than a broken engagement.

This was the year Victor, during a rural inspection trip, had a car accident and fell off a cliff. He was saved by a young village girl.

The girl was delicate and beautiful.

In her panic to save him, she accidentally consumed a poisonous herb and lost her voice.

Moved by her sacrifice, Victor brought her back to the Harlow estate.

As of today, he had spent three consecutive days making public declarations through the media.

He was determined to marry her.

He wanted her to be the future Mrs. Harlow, the wife of the company's leader.

“Miss, don’t listen to the rumors. You and Mr. Harlow have known each other since childhood. After so many years of being together…”

I gently shook my head, declining Emily’s attempt to console me.

I already knew what she was going to say.

Three days ago, I woke up in the Grant mansion.

Three days were enough to piece together everything from my past and present lives.

“Miss Mia,” Emily suddenly whispered excitedly, “Mr. Harlow is here.”