Chapter 3
The Moore family was desperately trying to get an appointment with Bella.
A bitter smile escaped me.
In my last life, I had seen countless doctors, trying every treatment imaginable for my scar.
But nothing ever worked.
Bella was the only true expert.
But back then, my parents had acted as if she didn't exist.
They had hidden any information about her from me.
It was only on my deathbed that I learned the one person who could have healed me had been living in the same city all along.
My family wanted that scar on my face. They wanted me to be consumed by insecurity, using my disfigurement as a leash to rule me.
They wanted me to be so desperate for their approval that I would bleed myself dry for the family business, while their condescending grace kept me small and constantly questioning my own soul.
So, they could go begging for their daughter, after all.
But Bella was on my payroll now.
Rachel's last hope was gone.
I rented a comfortable apartment and invested heavily in AI and robotics stocks.
Then I started my own company.
With my past experience, I landed a major contract within weeks, and my business began to grow exponentially.
I was so busy making money that I didn't pay any attention to the Moore family for months. Then, I got a message.
They had found a new scar specialist for Rachel, a titan in the field who supposedly never failed.
"How is that possible? They don't have that kind of pull," I muttered, narrowing my eyes.
I knew every corner of their network, and this specialist was far beyond their league. Something was wrong.
"It wasn't the Moore family," my assistant said over the phone. "It was Charles Lane. The heir to the Lane family."
The phone almost slipped from my hand.
I was married to Charles in my last life.
"Well then," I said. "Let's go pay him a visit."
The moment Charles learned I was heading to the hospital to see Rachel, he dropped everything and rushed over.
He hated me. He always had.
If I had never been found, he would have married Rachel.
I knew my scarred face was repulsive to him.
So when he stayed out all night and treated me like a stranger, I understood.
I just worked silently in the background, using my knowledge to connect him with resources, helping him become the most promising young entrepreneur in the industry.
All I ever wanted was for us to live like a normal couple.
But then I learned it wasn't just my family who spent twenty days a month with Rachel.
It was my husband, too.
When I finally found her, she already had two children.
They were the spitting image of Charles.
Everything I had painstakingly built for his sake was ultimately used to shield Rachel.
When he found out I knew, he just handed me a mirror.
"Look at yourself," he had sneered. "What man wouldn't have nightmares at the thought of having children with a face like that?"
But it was all a lie. He did have a way to fix it.
He knew a surgeon even better than Bella.
He just hadn't bothered because the one with the ruined face wasn't Rachel.
Rachel was not expecting to see me.
The moment I walked into her hospital room, her face became a mask of defensive fury.
"What are you doing here? I've already called Charles! Get out!"
"Emily!"
The door was thrown open. Charles strode in.
Rachel ran to him, burying her face in his chest.
"Charlie!"
He held her close, his brow furrowed as he glared at me.
"Who let you in here? Get out!"
I turned and looked at him.
For a moment, he froze.
I had always looked like Rachel.
It was why we had been switched at birth.
I was always the prettier one once the scar was gone.
And now, the tables turned. Her face was the one in ruins.
Charles stared at me, dumbfounded.
"You... how do you look like this?"
I knew the truth in that very instant.
One simply cannot fake the refined confidence and hard-won poise that only age can provide.
Our youthful faces were a lie, but our eyes told the truth when they met. In that single breath, we realized that we had both been reborn.
He couldn't take his eyes off me.
He couldn't be bothered with me in our previous life. I was invisible to him.
It was pathetic, really, to see how much interest he took in my face now that it was free of scars.
"Mr. Lane," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Fancy seeing you here."
"I..."
He was speechless.
From the safety of his arms, Rachel tugged on his sleeve.
"Charlie..."
She was wearing a mask, just as I once had, her eyes, puffy from crying, peering out over the top. She let her eyes do the talking, brimming with tears to play the part of the helpless victim.
He was moved. His resolve wavered.
He handed Rachel off to his bodyguard.
"Take her for the surgery. Start immediately."
His eyes, however, never left me.
After she was gone, he leaned in close, letting out a low hiss in my ear.
"Did you really think that after what you did to Rachel, I would ever accept you?"
I frowned.
"In your dreams," he sneered. "I will never forget how disgusting you looked in our last life. Don't waste your energy, Emily."
I laughed. "When," I asked, looking him dead in the eye, "will you ever stop being so damn sure of yourself?"
He flinched.
"Mr. Lane, the fact that I chose to cut ties with the Moore family should have been a clue. You are not, and never will be, part of my plan."
His breath hitched. In our past life, I had catered to his every whim.
I pushed past him, shouldering him aside, and walked out without a backward glance.
Rachel was about to have her surgery.
She shot me a look of pure malice.
After this, she would be the beautiful, perfect heiress once more.
The family might not be as prominent as before, but with their fortune, she would live a comfortable life.
She would never know the suffering I had endured.
But that was only if the surgeon wasn't already in my pocket.
As I walked down the hall, the specialist Charles had flown in walked past me.
"Make sure the surgery fails," I whispered, my voice too low for anyone else to hear.
He gave a subtle nod.
After all, I had eight more years of memories than anyone else.
The art of persuasion was a skill I had long since perfected.