Chapter 1

Back to the Day of the Divorce

Victoria Lane was jolted awake by a splash of ice-cold water.

The freezing water ran down her cheeks, soaked her collar, and sent a chill straight into her bones. She snapped her eyes open and saw the crystal chandelier in the living room of Foster Villa, the one she'd picked out herself three years ago. It had been imported and cost about 160,000 dollars.

"Mrs. Foster, Mr. Foster and Ms. Sinclair are waiting for you in the study." The maid stood nearby holding an empty glass, with not a shred of respect in her tone.

Victoria froze.

She remembered this glass of water. In her last life, right after this, she had stormed into the study and made a huge scene. Her hand shook so badly when she signed the divorce papers that she could barely write her own name. She left with nothing, not even the paintings she'd brought into the marriage. Later, she heard that on the very afternoon they divorced, Stephen Foster and Claire Sinclair had gone to city hall together. To take care of something else, of course. Back then, there was no waiting period for divorce.

After that, her family went bankrupt. Her father jumped off a building, and her mother suffered a cerebral hemorrhage. She knelt in front of Stephen and begged him to help, and he said only one thing: "Victoria, we have nothing to do with each other anymore."

She was thirty-one that year.

On the day she died in that rented apartment, the TV was airing the anniversary celebration of Foster Group. Stephen Foster and Claire Sinclair stood side by side onstage, raising their glasses to a room full of applause.

She'd thought, 'They really do match.'

Now she had opened her eyes again. She looked at the maid's impatient face, at the ginkgo tree outside that hadn't fully turned yellow yet, and at the date on her phone screen: October 17, 2019.

The divorce papers hadn't been signed yet.

There was still time.

Victoria slowly sat up. She didn't get mad. She even smiled a little. The maid stood there stunned, probably because she'd never seen Mrs. Foster get water thrown on her and still smile.

"Go tell Mr. Foster I'll be there after I change."

After the maid left, Victoria walked into the walk-in closet and pulled open the innermost drawer. A bankbook was hidden there, money her mother had secretly tucked away for her years ago. It wasn't a huge sum, just 400,000 dollars. In her last life, she'd left even that behind in the Foster house, thinking that since they were divorcing, she shouldn't take a single cent with her.

How stupid was that?

Victoria slipped the bankbook into her bag, then opened the hidden compartment in her vanity. Inside were several pieces of jewelry, an emerald bracelet set and a diamond necklace, all part of what her family had given her when she got married. In her last life, she hadn't taken a single piece. Later, all of it ended up on Claire Sinclair.

This time, she wasn't leaving them a damn thing.

The study door was half open. Before Victoria even got close, she could already hear laughter from inside.

"Stephen, I've gone over this agreement again and again. The property split is already more than fair to her." Claire Sinclair's voice was soft and polished, like one of those classy TV anchors. She actually had been an anchor once, before Stephen poached her to work at Foster Group as his secretary. She'd stayed in that role for five years.

"Mm." Stephen's voice was low and brief, same as always.