Chapter 1

I, Heather Lovegood, had been obsessed with Devon Harlan for three years. I had loved him to the bone, so much so that I was willing to donate my blood, liver, and kidney to his one true love, Esme Brightwood, hoping he would spare me a single glance. Yet, all he ever gave me in return was one sentence. "Why are you still breathing, bitch? You're so annoyingly hard to get rid of!" Later, I died. Devon officially announced his relationship with Esme that day. He chose to hold his wedding on my birthday so I wouldn't be able to rest in peace. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself in the first year of our marriage. This time around, though, I swore I would send everyone who failed me to hell! … The rain poured down in sheets. Heather Lovegood was thrown violently out of the car, her body rolling across the road. Her head crashed against the asphalt, and the world before her eyes spun. Gravel dug into her skin, causing blood to spill everywhere. Hadn't she already died in the ICU, tortured until her last breath? Why did it still hurt so much? "Heather." In her haze, a cold voice sounded above her. Heather lifted her gaze and met a handsome yet apathetic face. Her chest tightened. It was Devon Harlan, her husband. When she was 17, he had rescued her from the sea. He had stayed by her side through the days when her family fell apart, dragging her out of hell with his bare hands. He had held her and cherished her as if his life depended on it. He had promised to be with her forever and make her the happiest woman in the world. Now, he looked at her with cold indifference. Hatred filled his narrowed eyes. "If Essie loses even one strand of hair, you'll pay for it with your life!" Esme Brightwood was Devon's one true love and Achilles heel. "I never hurt Esme!" Heather forced out through the searing pain. Devon, however, didn't listen to a thing she said. He calmly rolled up the window. "Step on it." Devon's assistant, Charles Whitman, hesitated before asking, "It's pouring outside, Mr. Harlan. Mrs. Harlan just donated a lot of blood to Ms. Brightwood. Are you really going to leave her here?" Heather's face was ghastly pale in the rearview mirror. Blood streamed down her forehead, and she appeared so frail that she would shatter at the slightest touch. Devon remained unmoved. In fact, he even snorted. "That bitch won't die that easily." The Bentley sped away. Heather was discarded like trash in the storm. Devon always knew how to hurt her in the cruelest way—how to strike where it hurt most. This scene was awfully familiar; the same ice-cold words. Two years ago, she had been forced to donate blood to Esme. On the way back, the hospital had called, saying Esme had been poisoned as a result of the transfusion. In the heat of the moment, Devon had thrown her out onto the road in the middle of a pouring rainstorm. That was when it hit her—she had been reborn. Clutching her violently pounding chest, her vision blurred as tears and rain flowed together. Right then, memories flooded her mind. Eight years ago, she and her parents had been caught in a shipwreck. When the ocean had been about to swallow her whole, a young man dressed in white had gripped her hand tightly. When she had come to, the first face that had come into view had been Devon's. He had grown up with her, and he had been the only light in her darkest years. Later, the Harlan family had fallen into decline. Buried in debt, they had nowhere to go. To repay his kindness, she had handed over her family's secret formula and had turned their fate around. The Harlans had risen overnight and had become an elite family in Metrovale. Devon's grandmother, Lauren Anderson, had personally arranged their engagement. Heather and Devon's engagement was to be announced to the entire city after she graduated from university, and she had been promised a grand wedding. Heather had waited eagerly, dreaming of becoming the happiest woman in the world. However, right before graduation, Devon had disappeared. He had only returned before the wedding, and when he had, he had brought with him a pregnant Esme Brightwood. He had held Esme carefully, as if he had been holding the most precious treasure in the world. The look he had given her had been tender beyond words. Yet, he hadn't offered Heather a single explanation. Heather's heart had shattered at that moment. That night, Esme had sought her out in private. Caressing her belly, she had pleaded piteously, "I'm pregnant with Devon's child, Heather. Please let us be together!" Heather's world had fallen apart at that exact moment. But the child had been innocent. Hence, with a bleeding heart, she had gone to Lauren to call off the engagement. "Esme's lying. Devon didn't betray you. We must proceed with the wedding!" Lauren had refused decisively. The Harlans had already become a prestigious family in Metrovale. As such, a humiliating scandal in which the mistress forced the fiancée to cancel the engagement and surrender her place could never be allowed to spread. "Relationships require a lot of work, Heath. Are you really willing to give up on Devon? Give up everything you've built together over the years?" Heather had been unwilling. Devon had been the only light in her life. How had she been supposed to live without him? Heather had refused to believe that five years of love could have been so fragile. Devon wouldn't have been that cruel to her. Esme had disappeared. The wedding had gone on as planned. Heather had put on her wedding gown and had stepped into marriage. Yet, she had later realized it had been the beginning of the worst nightmare she'd ever had. Devon's hand had closed around her throat on their wedding night. His expression had been cold, and his eyes had been burned with hatred, as though he had wished she would die right there and then. "You told Grandma to force me into this marriage. You made Essie kneel in the pouring rain all day… "Essie miscarried. My only child is gone! Are you happy now, Mrs. Harlan? Is this the wedding you wanted?" "I didn't! I never forced anyone!" He hadn't even offered her an apology, and she had been willing to let him go. "You didn't?" Devon sneered, eyeing her with distrust. Heather ripped off her veil. Her whole body was shaking from the heartache. "I'll divorce you right now and give you back to Esme!" Devon scoffed before shoving her away with contempt. "The heir of the household has never been involved in a divorce scandal. What are you trying to destroy me now? You're so vicious!" "I'm not, Dev. I can explain—" He cut her off coldly, leaving her with his aloof back. "If you don't want to ruin me, act like a proper lady of the household!" Heather had compromised. After the wedding, Devon had claimed he had been busy with work and had never come home. In reality, he had spent his days at the hospital, caring for Esme. Heather had been well aware of it. Yet, she had forgiven him time and time again and had continued to love him anyway. Even when Esme had needed a blood donation after her miscarriage, she had agreed. Heather had believed that if she endured everything and sacrificed herself for him, she would eventually warm his heart. Consequently, she had clung to that belief until the day she had been kidnapped. Those bastards had torn her clothes apart. Heather had been on the brink of despair when the door had burst open, and Devon had appeared before her eyes. Heather had thought the man she loved had finally returned to her side. Yet, he had merely frowned, staring at her as if she had been something filthy. He had kept his distance as he had said, "I can save you, but you have to repay me, Heather. Essie's condition has worsened, and she needs an organ transplant." Her heart had gone cold. Fine, she would repay him. Esme's miscarriage had left lasting damage, and she had needed Heather's blood, liver, and kidney—and Heather had donated them all. Sadly, her sacrifices had only fed Devon's cruelty. He had wanted her dead. So, she had given him her life. In the end, after the final organ removal surgery, she had developed cancer, had been admitted to the ICU, and had had little time left. Heather had called Devon repeatedly because she only wanted to see him one last time. She had wanted nothing else. She had simply wanted to say goodbye and clear up all the misunderstandings between them before she died. Still, he had refused to fulfill her dying wish. Later, she hadn't even been able to reach him. So, she had called Charles instead. "Please put Dev on the call. I only need a minute!" "Ms. Brightwood is being discharged today. Mr. Harlan can't answer the phone because he's extremely busy." Devon hadn't even spared her a single minute. In her final days, Esme had worn a wedding ring and had looked down at her with contempt. "I was never pregnant. It was just a ruse to get Devon to marry me. I didn't expect that old hag to see through it and still make you the lady of the Harlan family." Heather's eyes had widened in disbelief. "You were never pregnant? Then, your illness…" Esme had curled her lips into a cruel smile. "Of course, I wasn't sick. I was just toying with you. I wanted to torture you and watch you hand over your life to your enemy like an idiot. I fed all those organs of yours to strays!" "How could you?" Heather's eyes had burned with rage. Even though she had balled her fists, she hadn't even been able to lift them. "Oh, do you want to hit me? But you can barely breathe." Esme had deliberately leaned in to mock her. "Devon never loved you, you fool! Everything you did was a joke to him. For your information, he had planned the kidnapping himself, just to get you to give me your kidney. "He loathes you even more than I do. He's the one who told me to pay you a visit so I can piss you off and make you die with regret!" Heather had felt hollowed out in a heartbeat. Cold air had rushed in from all directions. Realization had dawned on her—her wholehearted love had served as nothing more than a tool for Devon to scheme against her and torment her. "You'll pay for this!" "I will?" Esme had sneered, unfazed. "Once you're dead, Devon will only be a widower. There won't be any divorce scandal hanging over him. We'll inherit your formula, your hard work, and everything you own. "I'll bear his children, and we'll live happily ever after. You, on the other hand… are meant to lie here and rot. No one will mourn you, and you'll be remembered only as a shrew!" Heather's heart had ached until it had gone numb. It was only then that it had struck her—Devon had wanted her dead from the very beginning. Devon and Esme had held a lavish wedding on her 25th birthday, while she had lain alone in a hospital bed and had met her end with her grievances unresolved. Those memories haunted her like a nightmare. Fortunately, she woke up. Heather let out a derisive chuckle and pushed herself to her feet. Her figure was frail yet upright in the pouring rain. Lifting her head, she let the rain wash the dirt from her face, revealing cold, distinct features. Hatred gradually ignited in her clear eyes. "I've repaid everything I owed you, Devon. From now on, I'll make you pay with your lives!" she swore to herself. Just then, a deafening roar cut through the storm. Blinding headlights pierced her eyes as a Cullinan sped straight toward her. Heather wanted to run, but her body felt as if it were filled with lead. Hence, she couldn't even move an inch. Was she about to be killed the moment she was reborn? Tires shrieked through the night as rain splashed everywhere, and the car skidded to a stop less than an inch from Heather. Instinctively, she raised her hand to shield her face. Through her fingers, she saw the man in the driver's seat, and her heart skipped a beat. His face was breathtaking. He had sharp brows, bright eyes, well-defined features, and a straight nose. His light-colored eyes looked at her like a bright moon shining into a valley. It was brilliant, yet it wasn't blinding. It was gentle in a way that illuminated her without burning her. For some reason, the raging hatred in her heart slowly calmed. The very next second, his expression twisted in pain. He closed his eyes and collapsed onto the steering wheel. What was he doing here? This accident had never happened in her previous life. Had her rebirth changed everything? Heather pursed her lips together as multiple emotions swirled in her eyes. Ultimately, she walked toward the man.