His Fortune, Not Mine
The day Adrian Knight clinched a contract with our biggest client, I "accidentally" tipped a bottle of ink across the paperwork, voiding it on the spot.
Because of that single blot, the project landed in Alex Lewis’s lap, and he won Chairman Henry Carter’s favor almost overnight, moving into the Carter mansion as their future son-in-law and watching his net worth rocket into eight figures.
Adrian never blamed me. He just laughed that he’d never been executive material anyway and happily brought me home as his bride.
Everyone whispered that, if not for my meddling, Adrian would already be sitting in the Carter family’s executive suite instead of scraping by in an ordinary life with me. Only I knew the truth: stopping him from signing that contract had saved his life.
When Adrian learned I was pregnant, he locked me in the basement, fingers digging into my throat.
"If it hadn’t been for you," he snarled, "I’d be Henry Carter’s son-in-law by now. You’re the reason I lost Rachel, the princess of the Carter family."
That’s when I realized he’d been nursing this grudge for years.
After he killed me, I woke up, reborn on the very day Adrian first reached for that fatal contract.
This time, I’ll make sure Adrian Knight gets exactly what he wants.