Chapter 1

I didn't find out my husband was still alive until after the car crash. For twelve years, I thought he was dead.

But he came back—with his true love and their son—just to take my company.

He stood by my hospital bed, looking at me with fake gratitude. "Susan, thank you. You took care of my mother until she passed and looked after the whole Fisher family. I'll take over the company now. You can rest easy."

Then, in one quick move, he yanked out my oxygen tube.

As I was gasping my last breath, it finally hit me. I was never his wife in his eyes. I was just the maid he picked to look after his sick mother, so he could live happily with his true love without any trouble.

And then, I opened my eyes. I was back in time—back on the night Erasmus proposed to me.

*****

When I opened my eyes, I was standing under a spotlight.

Erasmus was dressed in a white suit, down on one knee in front of me, holding out a ring.

"Susan, will you marry me?" he asked, gazing up at me with that deep, loving look in his eyes.

It was the exact same scene as before I came back in time. The first time, all I'd felt was pure joy and sweetness. Now, my stomach twisted with disgust.

It was on this same day, in my first life, that I had said yes to Erasmus.

Back then, his eyes had turned red with happiness. He'd held me so tight, like I was his whole world.

His voice had been thick with emotion when he said, "Susan, you are my savior."

I thought he was breaking down from the stress of caring for his sick mother. I thought I was the light that pulled him out of his darkness—that I had saved him.

That was why, six months after our wedding, when his car went into the ocean and his body was never found, I took on everything he left behind.

I took care of his mother, Mona, with all my heart. I raised the child his brother left behind. I shouldered the massive debts of the Fisher family.

For twelve long years, I looked after Mona until the day she passed. I raised my nephew until he became a grown man. I built a company that kept getting stronger year after year.

Life was finally getting better. But then, a car hit me and sent me flying.

In the emergency room, after the doctors said I was in critical condition, I saw Erasmus.

At that moment, I thought I was already dead. Seeing him so suddenly made tears stream down my face.

He looked at me and let out a long sigh before coming closer to take my hand.

His eyes were filled with both gratitude and guilt. "Susan, you've had it hard all these years. After my brother and his wife died, they left a mess behind. If it weren't for you, I never could've lived such a happy, carefree life with Beatrice."

Then a beautiful woman walked up, holding a ten-year-old boy's hand.

She leaned against Erasmus and said softly, "Thank you, Susan. It was my idea back then. After you're gone, just blame me. Don't blame Erasmus."

Erasmus gently corrected her, "What are you talking about? We're in this together. If there's any blame, it's mine."

It felt like someone had smashed my skull open. My world exploded.

But with all the tubes in my body, I couldn't move or speak. I could only stare at them, my eyes burning with hatred.

He bent down, his tone heavy. "Don't worry. I know everything you've done. Thank you for taking care of my mother until she passed and for raising my nephew. I'll always be grateful to you."

As he spoke, he reached out and pulled out my oxygen tube. His voice trembled with fake pain. "Susan, you're suffering too much. Rest in peace. I'll take care of the company from now on."

In that final moment before I died, everything became clear.

I was nothing more than a carefully chosen maid—someone to handle all the responsibilities that should've been his.

And him? He'd faked his death to escape, spending twelve blissful years with the woman he truly loved.

After I was gone, they would have my company. He would have wealth, power, and happiness. And I would simply disappear from the world.

Why? How was that fair?

The sheer unfairness burned too deep to let me die in peace. But heaven must've taken pity on me—because time turned back and gave me another chance.

Looking at Erasmus's gentle, loving face, I had to fight the urge to slap him. My gaze swept across the crowd around us.

It was clear that this whole proposal was a setup, something he had carefully planned with his true love.

And then, among the cheering faces, I saw her. The woman I hated so much that even death hadn't dulled my rage.

She wore a long white dress, her hair cascading down to her waist. Her delicate face gave off a softness that made people want to protect her at first glance.

She looked even gentler, even more beautiful than she had twelve years later in my first life. It wasn't hard to see how much Erasmus had cared for her, how carefully he had sheltered her.

And me? In the first year after Erasmus "died," the company went bankrupt. We owed over 100 million dollars.

Mona's mental illness got worse. Whenever I mentioned sending her to a psychiatric hospital, her relatives would scream at me—or hit me.

They refused to let her be hospitalized, so I had to pull myself together and care for her every single day.

My nephew was only four or five back then, still a child who needed constant attention.

Those two years aged me fast. My body was covered in scars—three from when Mona stabbed me during her episodes, countless others from her burning me.

And if that wasn't enough, I had to keep running from debt collectors, dragging Mona and my nephew from place to place. We lived in fear, hiding wherever we could.

I had no choice but to start my own business. I went door to door, begging every creditor to give me more time.

At first, I often had to drink myself sick to close deals. My stomach bled from the alcohol. Every day, I was out begging for help, desperate to survive.

After ten years of hard work, I finally built the company and paid off everything the Fisher family owed.

By then, my stomach was ruined, my body frail, my skin pale and scarred.

My hands were rough and marked with old frostbite from washing dishes through freezing winters just to feed Mona and my nephew.

And Beatrice? Her skin was flawless, her complexion glowing. I could tell she'd lived a life of comfort and care.