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I'd been married to Charles Rivers for three years, and we still didn't have a child. As his footing as the Rivers family heir grew more uncertain, his attitude toward me turned colder by the day. On his birthday party night, he arrived with his old flame Vivian Linwood, dressed to the nines, his arm wrapped around her waist. The crowd quickly joined in the teasing. "Charlie, you need a child to secure your place as heir to the Rivers Group. Grace can't give you one. It's time for a new wife. Vivian would be a perfect fit. You two go way back." In my previous life, I had taken out my pregnancy test report right then and there and managed to hold on to my marriage. But that only pushed Vivian over the edge. She stormed out and was killed in a car accident shortly after. During the emergency surgery, doctors discovered she was one month pregnant. She had lost too much blood. Neither she nor the baby survived. Charles was convinced I had driven Vivian away on purpose. From then on, he hated me to the bone. After I gave birth, he locked me inside the villa and subjected me to relentless physical and mental abuse. More than once, he wrapped his hands around my neck, choking me. "Grace, why wasn't it you who died?" The constant torment broke me completely. In the end, I jumped from the building. Given a second chance at life, I put the pregnancy report away and looked at Charles. "He was right. You should get a new wife. Charles, I want a divorce."