After a reckless night with her supposed uncle Rupert, Sylvia undergoes eight harrowing years of suffering. As she clutches her daughter's ashes, ready for suicide, Rupert is preoccupied with throwing a grand birthday bash for his true love's son. When she opens her eyes again, Sylvia vows to make Rupert pay in this new life! In her previous life, she solemnly explained her situation, but Rupert accused her of being devious and seducing him with drugs; now, she defiantly draws a firm line between them in public! In the past, his true love shamelessly stole her work, and Rupert accused Sylvia of being envious; in this new life, she dominates the award ceremony while crushing his love beneath her feet! Once falsely accused and targeted, Rupert chose to defend his true love, but this time around, Sylvia fiercely slaps the face of her rival! Rupert always thought that Sylvia's love for him was unwavering. But when Sylvia decides to leave, he panics. With anguished tears in his once-proud eyes, Rupert clings to her, begging, "Sylvia, please don't abandon me...take me with you."

Chapter 1According to the rules, relatives were not allowed to view the process at crematorium.Supported by the icy steel bed, Sylvia Lloyd paid her way into the crematorium's inner sanctum.The air was tinged with the scent of burning, intermingled with the ash that danced in the sunlight. Perhaps it was someone's ashes. Soon, her precious daughter would become just that.Sylvia was clad in a long black dress that barely covered her gaunt frame even in the smallest size, her eyes, swollen and red from crying, now held a serene calm.She reached out to touch the cold, stiff hand that protruded from beneath the white shroud, and into her daughter's palm, she placed two pink paper stars."Wait for me, Stella."Time seemed to stand still until a worker approached, pulling Sylvia away to reveal Stella's face under the shroud.At eight years old, Stella was frail and thin, her ribcage starkly defined, with a noticeable dip at the bottom.Sylvia's tears welled up again as she gazed at that dip. She had failed to protect Stella.The worker, attempting consolation, softly said, "Sorry for your loss. At least your daughter's kidney saved another child, who will now live a happy life in her stead."A cold flash passed through Sylvia's eyes, a bitter smile forming, "Yes, that child happens to be my husband's illegitimate son. Right now, they're celebrating his grand birthday party. Did you know? Today is also my daughter's birthday."The worker was taken aback, unable to comfort the despairing woman before him.Looking at Stella, Sylvia forced a pale smile, "Go ahead, let's not delay. I hope my daughter finds a better life next time."With a sigh and a shake of his head, the worker prepared to move the body to the furnace, perhaps out of sympathy, shielding Sylvia from the process.But Sylvia wasn't afraid; Stella was finally at peace, no longer despised by her own father."Why doesn't Daddy like me, Mommy?""Why does Daddy like Ms. Simpson's son?""Is Daddy mean to you because of me? I'm sorry, Mommy."Her precious daughter, destroyed by Rupert Garcia's actions!Before her birthday, he had promised a trip to the biggest amusement park, a dream day with her father. Instead, he had put her in a surgery room to donate a kidney to his son, leaving her to die alone from an infection.Sylvia was the last to know, and couldn’t forget the moment she charged into the ward, only to find her daughter's lifeless body. The ironic thing was that a blood-stained children's watch lay beside her, dialing her father's number. And yet the only response was a cold, "Stop acting crazy like your mother."Hearing the busy line, Sylvia had held back tears and hugged her daughter, fearing her sobs would scare her precious child.In fact, ever since Bridget Simpson returned from abroad with her son, boldly accusing Sylvia of harming them, Rupert had made her a madwoman, the talk of the town.Especially to think how Rupert stared at her and her daughter when he listened to Bridget's tales of hardship and her son's premature birth with kidney issues. He was the epitome of elegance, yet at the meanwhile he looked extremely fierce and stern.Ignoring Sylvia's pleas, he cursed, "You've harmed Bridget and my son, Sylvia. I’ll let you pay double the price."And so, Rupert had his revenge. Everything ended.As Sylvia was awakened from her memories, she found herself carrying a pink urn in her hands - Stella's favorite color. The grip on the urn tightened, she said, "Let's go home, Stella."The wind lifted her dress, a sorrowful figure beneath the sun's gaze....Returning to the marital home she shared with Rupert, Sylvia tidied her daughter's belongings, and then sat holding the urn until evening.A parking sound came from outside. Soon, a sharp, black figure walked in; it was Rupert. Eight years passed, and his presence was as imposing and magnetic as the day they met.And as slighting as before.Rupert walked past her, not giving her a second glance as he made his way upstairs.Minutes later, he descended, having slipped into one of the suits he had cherished for years. It was a suit specially designed for him by Bridget when they got engaged. Yet, Rupert still didn’t look Sylvia’s way.For eight years, he had treated her with such cold indifference. Once he had intended to torment her, he’d pin her down, releasing his desire before leaving without giving her another look.And as for their daughter...He had even forbidden Stella from calling him dad.Perhaps it was Sylvia’s unusual silence that day that made Rupert pause, though he didn’t turn around, “I won’t be home tonight. Tell Stella not to call me for any reason.”“Okay.”Sylvia caressed the urn that seemed to still carry Stella’s warmth. If only he had looked at her, even just for a second, he might have noticed it.As Rupert adjusted his cufflinks, he spoke with detachment, “Think about what you want in the divorce. We’ll get the paperwork done in a few days. I don’t want the kid.”“Okay.”Sylvia remained calm, comforted by the thought that Stella would now be hers alone.Rupert’s hand faltered for a moment, but he didn’t give Sylvia his attention, “Considering Stella saved Rufus, I’ll cover all the medical and nutritional expenses. But I don’t want to see you again. Consider this your final atonement.”“Okay.”Sylvia thought to herself, indeed, they would never see each other again soon.Rupert, feeling an inexplicable irritation, turned to leave when his phone rang.Bridget was on the other end, and when the call went through, the room was filled with the happy shouts of a child.“Dad! Hurry up! Mom and I are waiting for you.”“I’m on my way.”Rupert’s voice lifted, his steps quickening, completely unaware of the woman behind him clutching something tightly, her body stiffening by the moment.As the moonlight fell, Sylvia took out a birthday cake she had ordered for Stella from the fridge earlier. She lit the birthday candles.“Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you…”She sang as she doused the surroundings with gasoline, from the top floor to the bottom, sparing no corner. She had no intentions of sparing herself either.If only she had been stronger back then and refused to marry Rupert, any of this wouldn’t have happened.Once everything was set, she sat back at the dining table, holding the urn close.“Happy Birthday, Stella. Wait for me.”Sylvia threw the birthday candle towards the curtains....At the party, Rupert made a grand entrance with Bridget and her son. The crowd praised their seemingly perfect happiness through toasting, with some even badmouthing Sylvia.Only Rupert’s friend, a doctor, seemed concerned, and frowned, he quickly approached Rupert.“Mr. Garcia, I’m sorry, but please, accept my condolences.”“What do you mean?”“Your daughter...she died from a post-surgery infection. Mrs. Garcia took her to the mortuary house today.”“How much did Sylvia pay you?” Rupert lifted his glass and sipped his drink emotionlessly.“Didn’t I already send you the death certificate? You said you received it.”Bridget clutched her son’s hand nervously at that moment. Then, Rupert’s phone rang.“Mr. Garcia, your mansion is on fire.”Rupert’s glass fell to the floor as he rushed out, not knowing how fast he drove until he reached the mansion. The sight of the blazing fire stabbed him like a knife to the heart.Through the falling curtains, he saw Sylvia sitting in front of the birthday cake and the urn in her arms, smiling at him like the first time they met.“Goodbye, I hate you. If only I could start over…”Before she could finish, the house collapsed.Perhaps it was a final illusion, but Sylvia thought she saw Rupert kneeling down.Never mind.Stella was there to meet her.“Mommy, Mommy.”...The afternoon sun blazed down on the Garcia Manor, where the atmosphere was as tense as if it were on fire.The sound of a cup shattering on the floor, the piercing pain from the shards cutting through the skin awoke Sylvia instantly. She was kneeling in the center of the hall, looking around blankly at the gathered crowd.What was this?She's back! She actually came back!Ignoring people’s astonished expressions around her, Sylvia pinched herself hard. Pain swept through her body, instantly filling her eyes with tears."Stop your crying! It's not like we have wronged you!" a commanding voice echoed from the head of the table.Snapping back to reality, Sylvia looked up, meeting the old Mr. Garcia, Tristan Garcia's displeased gaze. She quickly lowered her head, seemingly humble as ever, yet her body couldn't stop trembling with excitement.Whispers and snickers filled the air around her."Such a young age, and instead of learning good, she dares to drug Rupert and sneak into his bed, causing a scandal. Clearly, she's trying to force Rupert to take responsibility for her, and now she can't even own up to it. I don't know who raised her.""She's obviously not one of us. We could never raise such a shameless person. Her online diary, obsessing over Rupert, was exposed, blushing at every word! We spent money to send her to college, and this is what she learns, acting like a siren.""I always said, don't just bring anyone home. Clearly, she's a wolf in sheep's clothing, clinging to Rupert. I wonder if it's learned behavior or...inherited."With that, their gazes slid toward Sylvia's mother, Naomi, standing at the end of the room.Naomi's face was pale, glancing at Sylvia before quickly lowering her head, almost biting her inner lip raw, yet not daring to utter a word of rebuttal.Because Sylvia's situation was too peculiar. She had entered the Garcia Manor through her mother's remarriage; her mother married Rupert's second oldest brother.Thus, by relation, she should call Rupert "uncle".But she never did. Because she didn't have the right.In her past life, Sylvia was also accused by these people, apologizing fearfully, indirectly admitting to drugging Rupert and forcing him to get intimate with her.Later, her pregnancy forced Rupert to marry her. Not only did Rupert hate her, but the whole town despised her, thinking she was a woman who would do anything to marry into a wealthy family.This time, she was determined to rewrite her own tragedy!Sylvia looked around, seeing the Garcias sitting upright, less timid than in her past life.Just as she was about to speak, a man's steady footsteps approached from behind. Except for Tristan, everyone else stood respectfully.The tall figure passed Sylvia and moved forward. The butler took his coat, nodding, "Mr. Rupert Garcia."Rupert responded indifferently, nodding to Tristan at the head of the table before taking his seat gracefully.He didn't glance at Sylvia from beginning to end, as if she was insignificant to him.But Sylvia was staring at him intently. Until he felt her gaze and looked over at her.In that moment, Sylvia, with the memories of her past life, instinctively trembled with fear, tasting blood in her mouth, her hands clenched as if holding Stella's.She could never forget that face. Well-defined features, inscrutable eyes, and the red jade ring on his left thumb, its luster hinting at blood. Just like him, seemingly indifferent but dangerously bloodthirsty.Rupert caught Sylvia's gaze, his hand turning the ring pausing momentarily. Until a pair of soft, fair-skinned hands rested on his shoulder, he returned his demeanor to its usual coldness.It was Bridget. Her eyes were red rimmed, her delicate face full of grievance.Finally, everyone was present.Chapter 2According to the rules, relatives were not allowed to view the process at crematorium.Supported by the icy steel bed, Sylvia Lloyd paid her way into the crematorium's inner sanctum.The air was tinged with the scent of burning, intermingled with the ash that danced in the sunlight. Perhaps it was someone's ashes. Soon, her precious daughter would become just that.Sylvia was clad in a long black dress that barely covered her gaunt frame even in the smallest size, her eyes, swollen and red from crying, now held a serene calm.She reached out to touch the cold, stiff hand that protruded from beneath the white shroud, and into her daughter's palm, she placed two pink paper stars."Wait for me, Stella."Time seemed to stand still until a worker approached, pulling Sylvia away to reveal Stella's face under the shroud.At eight years old, Stella was frail and thin, her ribcage starkly defined, with a noticeable dip at the bottom.Sylvia's tears welled up again as she gazed at that dip. She had failed to protect Stella.The worker, attempting consolation, softly said, "Sorry for your loss. At least your daughter's kidney saved another child, who will now live a happy life in her stead."A cold flash passed through Sylvia's eyes, a bitter smile forming, "Yes, that child happens to be my husband's illegitimate son. Right now, they're celebrating his grand birthday party. Did you know? Today is also my daughter's birthday."The worker was taken aback, unable to comfort the despairing woman before him.Looking at Stella, Sylvia forced a pale smile, "Go ahead, let's not delay. I hope my daughter finds a better life next time."With a sigh and a shake of his head, the worker prepared to move the body to the furnace, perhaps out of sympathy, shielding Sylvia from the process.But Sylvia wasn't afraid; Stella was finally at peace, no longer despised by her own father."Why doesn't Daddy like me, Mommy?""Why does Daddy like Ms. Simpson's son?""Is Daddy mean to you because of me? I'm sorry, Mommy."Her precious daughter, destroyed by Rupert Garcia's actions!Before her birthday, he had promised a trip to the biggest amusement park, a dream day with her father. Instead, he had put her in a surgery room to donate a kidney to his son, leaving her to die alone from an infection.Sylvia was the last to know, and couldn’t forget the moment she charged into the ward, only to find her daughter's lifeless body. The ironic thing was that a blood-stained children's watch lay beside her, dialing her father's number. And yet the only response was a cold, "Stop acting crazy like your mother."Hearing the busy line, Sylvia had held back tears and hugged her daughter, fearing her sobs would scare her precious child.In fact, ever since Bridget Simpson returned from abroad with her son, boldly accusing Sylvia of harming them, Rupert had made her a madwoman, the talk of the town.Especially to think how Rupert stared at her and her daughter when he listened to Bridget's tales of hardship and her son's premature birth with kidney issues. He was the epitome of elegance, yet at the meanwhile he looked extremely fierce and stern.Ignoring Sylvia's pleas, he cursed, "You've harmed Bridget and my son, Sylvia. I’ll let you pay double the price."And so, Rupert had his revenge. Everything ended.As Sylvia was awakened from her memories, she found herself carrying a pink urn in her hands - Stella's favorite color. The grip on the urn tightened, she said, "Let's go home, Stella."The wind lifted her dress, a sorrowful figure beneath the sun's gaze....Returning to the marital home she shared with Rupert, Sylvia tidied her daughter's belongings, and then sat holding the urn until evening.A parking sound came from outside. Soon, a sharp, black figure walked in; it was Rupert. Eight years passed, and his presence was as imposing and magnetic as the day they met.And as slighting as before.Rupert walked past her, not giving her a second glance as he made his way upstairs.Minutes later, he descended, having slipped into one of the suits he had cherished for years. It was a suit specially designed for him by Bridget when they got engaged. Yet, Rupert still didn’t look Sylvia’s way.For eight years, he had treated her with such cold indifference. Once he had intended to torment her, he’d pin her down, releasing his desire before leaving without giving her another look.And as for their daughter...He had even forbidden Stella from calling him dad.Perhaps it was Sylvia’s unusual silence that day that made Rupert pause, though he didn’t turn around, “I won’t be home tonight. Tell Stella not to call me for any reason.”“Okay.”Sylvia caressed the urn that seemed to still carry Stella’s warmth. If only he had looked at her, even just for a second, he might have noticed it.As Rupert adjusted his cufflinks, he spoke with detachment, “Think about what you want in the divorce. We’ll get the paperwork done in a few days. I don’t want the kid.”“Okay.”Sylvia remained calm, comforted by the thought that Stella would now be hers alone.Rupert’s hand faltered for a moment, but he didn’t give Sylvia his attention, “Considering Stella saved Rufus, I’ll cover all the medical and nutritional expenses. But I don’t want to see you again. Consider this your final atonement.”“Okay.”Sylvia thought to herself, indeed, they would never see each other again soon.Rupert, feeling an inexplicable irritation, turned to leave when his phone rang.Bridget was on the other end, and when the call went through, the room was filled with the happy shouts of a child.“Dad! Hurry up! Mom and I are waiting for you.”“I’m on my way.”Rupert’s voice lifted, his steps quickening, completely unaware of the woman behind him clutching something tightly, her body stiffening by the moment.As the moonlight fell, Sylvia took out a birthday cake she had ordered for Stella from the fridge earlier. She lit the birthday candles.“Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you…”She sang as she doused the surroundings with gasoline, from the top floor to the bottom, sparing no corner. She had no intentions of sparing herself either.If only she had been stronger back then and refused to marry Rupert, any of this wouldn’t have happened.Once everything was set, she sat back at the dining table, holding the urn close.“Happy Birthday, Stella. Wait for me.”Sylvia threw the birthday candle towards the curtains....At the party, Rupert made a grand entrance with Bridget and her son. The crowd praised their seemingly perfect happiness through toasting, with some even badmouthing Sylvia.Only Rupert’s friend, a doctor, seemed concerned, and frowned, he quickly approached Rupert.“Mr. Garcia, I’m sorry, but please, accept my condolences.”“What do you mean?”“Your daughter...she died from a post-surgery infection. Mrs. Garcia took her to the mortuary house today.”“How much did Sylvia pay you?” Rupert lifted his glass and sipped his drink emotionlessly.“Didn’t I already send you the death certificate? You said you received it.”Bridget clutched her son’s hand nervously at that moment. Then, Rupert’s phone rang.“Mr. Garcia, your mansion is on fire.”Rupert’s glass fell to the floor as he rushed out, not knowing how fast he drove until he reached the mansion. The sight of the blazing fire stabbed him like a knife to the heart.Through the falling curtains, he saw Sylvia sitting in front of the birthday cake and the urn in her arms, smiling at him like the first time they met.“Goodbye, I hate you. If only I could start over…”Before she could finish, the house collapsed.Perhaps it was a final illusion, but Sylvia thought she saw Rupert kneeling down.Never mind.Stella was there to meet her.“Mommy, Mommy.”...The afternoon sun blazed down on the Garcia Manor, where the atmosphere was as tense as if it were on fire.The sound of a cup shattering on the floor, the piercing pain from the shards cutting through the skin awoke Sylvia instantly. She was kneeling in the center of the hall, looking around blankly at the gathered crowd.What was this?She's back! She actually came back!Ignoring people’s astonished expressions around her, Sylvia pinched herself hard. Pain swept through her body, instantly filling her eyes with tears."Stop your crying! It's not like we have wronged you!" a commanding voice echoed from the head of the table.Snapping back to reality, Sylvia looked up, meeting the old Mr. Garcia, Tristan Garcia's displeased gaze. She quickly lowered her head, seemingly humble as ever, yet her body couldn't stop trembling with excitement.Whispers and snickers filled the air around her."Such a young age, and instead of learning good, she dares to drug Rupert and sneak into his bed, causing a scandal. Clearly, she's trying to force Rupert to take responsibility for her, and now she can't even own up to it. I don't know who raised her.""She's obviously not one of us. We could never raise such a shameless person. Her online diary, obsessing over Rupert, was exposed, blushing at every word! We spent money to send her to college, and this is what she learns, acting like a siren.""I always said, don't just bring anyone home. Clearly, she's a wolf in sheep's clothing, clinging to Rupert. I wonder if it's learned behavior or...inherited."With that, their gazes slid toward Sylvia's mother, Naomi, standing at the end of the room.Naomi's face was pale, glancing at Sylvia before quickly lowering her head, almost biting her inner lip raw, yet not daring to utter a word of rebuttal.Because Sylvia's situation was too peculiar. She had entered the Garcia Manor through her mother's remarriage; her mother married Rupert's second oldest brother.Thus, by relation, she should call Rupert "uncle".But she never did. Because she didn't have the right.In her past life, Sylvia was also accused by these people, apologizing fearfully, indirectly admitting to drugging Rupert and forcing him to get intimate with her.Later, her pregnancy forced Rupert to marry her. Not only did Rupert hate her, but the whole town despised her, thinking she was a woman who would do anything to marry into a wealthy family.This time, she was determined to rewrite her own tragedy!Sylvia looked around, seeing the Garcias sitting upright, less timid than in her past life.Just as she was about to speak, a man's steady footsteps approached from behind. Except for Tristan, everyone else stood respectfully.The tall figure passed Sylvia and moved forward. The butler took his coat, nodding, "Mr. Rupert Garcia."Rupert responded indifferently, nodding to Tristan at the head of the table before taking his seat gracefully.He didn't glance at Sylvia from beginning to end, as if she was insignificant to him.But Sylvia was staring at him intently. Until he felt her gaze and looked over at her.In that moment, Sylvia, with the memories of her past life, instinctively trembled with fear, tasting blood in her mouth, her hands clenched as if holding Stella's.She could never forget that face. Well-defined features, inscrutable eyes, and the red jade ring on his left thumb, its luster hinting at blood. Just like him, seemingly indifferent but dangerously bloodthirsty.Rupert caught Sylvia's gaze, his hand turning the ring pausing momentarily. Until a pair of soft, fair-skinned hands rested on his shoulder, he returned his demeanor to its usual coldness.It was Bridget. Her eyes were red rimmed, her delicate face full of grievance.Finally, everyone was present.Chapter 3According to the rules, relatives were not allowed to view the process at crematorium.Supported by the icy steel bed, Sylvia Lloyd paid her way into the crematorium's inner sanctum.The air was tinged with the scent of burning, intermingled with the ash that danced in the sunlight. Perhaps it was someone's ashes. Soon, her precious daughter would become just that.Sylvia was clad in a long black dress that barely covered her gaunt frame even in the smallest size, her eyes, swollen and red from crying, now held a serene calm.She reached out to touch the cold, stiff hand that protruded from beneath the white shroud, and into her daughter's palm, she placed two pink paper stars."Wait for me, Stella."Time seemed to stand still until a worker approached, pulling Sylvia away to reveal Stella's face under the shroud.At eight years old, Stella was frail and thin, her ribcage starkly defined, with a noticeable dip at the bottom.Sylvia's tears welled up again as she gazed at that dip. She had failed to protect Stella.The worker, attempting consolation, softly said, "Sorry for your loss. At least your daughter's kidney saved another child, who will now live a happy life in her stead."A cold flash passed through Sylvia's eyes, a bitter smile forming, "Yes, that child happens to be my husband's illegitimate son. Right now, they're celebrating his grand birthday party. Did you know? Today is also my daughter's birthday."The worker was taken aback, unable to comfort the despairing woman before him.Looking at Stella, Sylvia forced a pale smile, "Go ahead, let's not delay. I hope my daughter finds a better life next time."With a sigh and a shake of his head, the worker prepared to move the body to the furnace, perhaps out of sympathy, shielding Sylvia from the process.But Sylvia wasn't afraid; Stella was finally at peace, no longer despised by her own father."Why doesn't Daddy like me, Mommy?""Why does Daddy like Ms. Simpson's son?""Is Daddy mean to you because of me? I'm sorry, Mommy."Her precious daughter, destroyed by Rupert Garcia's actions!Before her birthday, he had promised a trip to the biggest amusement park, a dream day with her father. Instead, he had put her in a surgery room to donate a kidney to his son, leaving her to die alone from an infection.Sylvia was the last to know, and couldn’t forget the moment she charged into the ward, only to find her daughter's lifeless body. The ironic thing was that a blood-stained children's watch lay beside her, dialing her father's number. And yet the only response was a cold, "Stop acting crazy like your mother."Hearing the busy line, Sylvia had held back tears and hugged her daughter, fearing her sobs would scare her precious child.In fact, ever since Bridget Simpson returned from abroad with her son, boldly accusing Sylvia of harming them, Rupert had made her a madwoman, the talk of the town.Especially to think how Rupert stared at her and her daughter when he listened to Bridget's tales of hardship and her son's premature birth with kidney issues. He was the epitome of elegance, yet at the meanwhile he looked extremely fierce and stern.Ignoring Sylvia's pleas, he cursed, "You've harmed Bridget and my son, Sylvia. I’ll let you pay double the price."And so, Rupert had his revenge. Everything ended.As Sylvia was awakened from her memories, she found herself carrying a pink urn in her hands - Stella's favorite color. The grip on the urn tightened, she said, "Let's go home, Stella."The wind lifted her dress, a sorrowful figure beneath the sun's gaze....Returning to the marital home she shared with Rupert, Sylvia tidied her daughter's belongings, and then sat holding the urn until evening.A parking sound came from outside. Soon, a sharp, black figure walked in; it was Rupert. Eight years passed, and his presence was as imposing and magnetic as the day they met.And as slighting as before.Rupert walked past her, not giving her a second glance as he made his way upstairs.Minutes later, he descended, having slipped into one of the suits he had cherished for years. It was a suit specially designed for him by Bridget when they got engaged. Yet, Rupert still didn’t look Sylvia’s way.For eight years, he had treated her with such cold indifference. Once he had intended to torment her, he’d pin her down, releasing his desire before leaving without giving her another look.And as for their daughter...He had even forbidden Stella from calling him dad.Perhaps it was Sylvia’s unusual silence that day that made Rupert pause, though he didn’t turn around, “I won’t be home tonight. Tell Stella not to call me for any reason.”“Okay.”Sylvia caressed the urn that seemed to still carry Stella’s warmth. If only he had looked at her, even just for a second, he might have noticed it.As Rupert adjusted his cufflinks, he spoke with detachment, “Think about what you want in the divorce. We’ll get the paperwork done in a few days. I don’t want the kid.”“Okay.”Sylvia remained calm, comforted by the thought that Stella would now be hers alone.Rupert’s hand faltered for a moment, but he didn’t give Sylvia his attention, “Considering Stella saved Rufus, I’ll cover all the medical and nutritional expenses. But I don’t want to see you again. Consider this your final atonement.”“Okay.”Sylvia thought to herself, indeed, they would never see each other again soon.Rupert, feeling an inexplicable irritation, turned to leave when his phone rang.Bridget was on the other end, and when the call went through, the room was filled with the happy shouts of a child.“Dad! Hurry up! Mom and I are waiting for you.”“I’m on my way.”Rupert’s voice lifted, his steps quickening, completely unaware of the woman behind him clutching something tightly, her body stiffening by the moment.As the moonlight fell, Sylvia took out a birthday cake she had ordered for Stella from the fridge earlier. She lit the birthday candles.“Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you…”She sang as she doused the surroundings with gasoline, from the top floor to the bottom, sparing no corner. She had no intentions of sparing herself either.If only she had been stronger back then and refused to marry Rupert, any of this wouldn’t have happened.Once everything was set, she sat back at the dining table, holding the urn close.“Happy Birthday, Stella. Wait for me.”Sylvia threw the birthday candle towards the curtains....At the party, Rupert made a grand entrance with Bridget and her son. The crowd praised their seemingly perfect happiness through toasting, with some even badmouthing Sylvia.Only Rupert’s friend, a doctor, seemed concerned, and frowned, he quickly approached Rupert.“Mr. Garcia, I’m sorry, but please, accept my condolences.”“What do you mean?”“Your daughter...she died from a post-surgery infection. Mrs. Garcia took her to the mortuary house today.”“How much did Sylvia pay you?” Rupert lifted his glass and sipped his drink emotionlessly.“Didn’t I already send you the death certificate? You said you received it.”Bridget clutched her son’s hand nervously at that moment. Then, Rupert’s phone rang.“Mr. Garcia, your mansion is on fire.”Rupert’s glass fell to the floor as he rushed out, not knowing how fast he drove until he reached the mansion. The sight of the blazing fire stabbed him like a knife to the heart.Through the falling curtains, he saw Sylvia sitting in front of the birthday cake and the urn in her arms, smiling at him like the first time they met.“Goodbye, I hate you. If only I could start over…”Before she could finish, the house collapsed.Perhaps it was a final illusion, but Sylvia thought she saw Rupert kneeling down.Never mind.Stella was there to meet her.“Mommy, Mommy.”...The afternoon sun blazed down on the Garcia Manor, where the atmosphere was as tense as if it were on fire.The sound of a cup shattering on the floor, the piercing pain from the shards cutting through the skin awoke Sylvia instantly. She was kneeling in the center of the hall, looking around blankly at the gathered crowd.What was this?She's back! She actually came back!Ignoring people’s astonished expressions around her, Sylvia pinched herself hard. Pain swept through her body, instantly filling her eyes with tears."Stop your crying! It's not like we have wronged you!" a commanding voice echoed from the head of the table.Snapping back to reality, Sylvia looked up, meeting the old Mr. Garcia, Tristan Garcia's displeased gaze. She quickly lowered her head, seemingly humble as ever, yet her body couldn't stop trembling with excitement.Whispers and snickers filled the air around her."Such a young age, and instead of learning good, she dares to drug Rupert and sneak into his bed, causing a scandal. Clearly, she's trying to force Rupert to take responsibility for her, and now she can't even own up to it. I don't know who raised her.""She's obviously not one of us. We could never raise such a shameless person. Her online diary, obsessing over Rupert, was exposed, blushing at every word! We spent money to send her to college, and this is what she learns, acting like a siren.""I always said, don't just bring anyone home. Clearly, she's a wolf in sheep's clothing, clinging to Rupert. I wonder if it's learned behavior or...inherited."With that, their gazes slid toward Sylvia's mother, Naomi, standing at the end of the room.Naomi's face was pale, glancing at Sylvia before quickly lowering her head, almost biting her inner lip raw, yet not daring to utter a word of rebuttal.Because Sylvia's situation was too peculiar. She had entered the Garcia Manor through her mother's remarriage; her mother married Rupert's second oldest brother.Thus, by relation, she should call Rupert "uncle".But she never did. Because she didn't have the right.In her past life, Sylvia was also accused by these people, apologizing fearfully, indirectly admitting to drugging Rupert and forcing him to get intimate with her.Later, her pregnancy forced Rupert to marry her. Not only did Rupert hate her, but the whole town despised her, thinking she was a woman who would do anything to marry into a wealthy family.This time, she was determined to rewrite her own tragedy!Sylvia looked around, seeing the Garcias sitting upright, less timid than in her past life.Just as she was about to speak, a man's steady footsteps approached from behind. Except for Tristan, everyone else stood respectfully.The tall figure passed Sylvia and moved forward. The butler took his coat, nodding, "Mr. Rupert Garcia."Rupert responded indifferently, nodding to Tristan at the head of the table before taking his seat gracefully.He didn't glance at Sylvia from beginning to end, as if she was insignificant to him.But Sylvia was staring at him intently. Until he felt her gaze and looked over at her.In that moment, Sylvia, with the memories of her past life, instinctively trembled with fear, tasting blood in her mouth, her hands clenched as if holding Stella's.She could never forget that face. Well-defined features, inscrutable eyes, and the red jade ring on his left thumb, its luster hinting at blood. Just like him, seemingly indifferent but dangerously bloodthirsty.Rupert caught Sylvia's gaze, his hand turning the ring pausing momentarily. Until a pair of soft, fair-skinned hands rested on his shoulder, he returned his demeanor to its usual coldness.It was Bridget. Her eyes were red rimmed, her delicate face full of grievance.Finally, everyone was present.