Chapter 1 Reborn in 2014 It was the end of 2044. In my 50s, I, Tiffany Mayfield, was nearing the final chapter of my life. Breast cancer had spread through my body. My husband, Shawn Hartwell, spared no effort in finding the best doctor to save me, but I had already given up. For three days, I refused to eat or drink. After 30 years of marriage, I didn't want to see his face before I left this world. Lying in the hospice bed, I shut my eyes tightly. Footsteps approached. I knew it was Shawn and our daughter, Yuna Hartwell. The doctor's voice was solemn. "She's refusing food. There's not much time left." Silence filled the room. My consciousness began to drift away. Then, I heard Yuna's voice, deliberately hushed. "Mom is finally leaving. When are you planning Queena's wedding?" After a moment, Shawn replied, "Let's wait. At least until after the funeral." Yuna sighed. "Mom spent her whole life enduring. I wonder what kept her going. She should have divorced earlier instead of making herself sick." Upon hearing her words, I felt bitter. I had stayed in this marriage to let Yuna have a complete family. I just wanted to ensure that no one would look down on her when she got married. But now, my persistence felt like a cruel joke. It didn't matter anymore. Soon, I would leave this world that had worn me down. I just wanted to be free. "She looks calm, but she's stubborn—hurting herself and others," Shawn murmured. Hurting myself and others? That was an accurate way to put it. "Queena has suffered too. She spent half her life with you, without a name or title. But at least she's finally getting what she deserves," Yuna said with a sense of relief. "Yes, I owe her too much. I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to her," Shawn admitted, his voice heavy with guilt. Tears filled my eyes and spilled over. So that was how it was. All the years I spent giving my all meant nothing to them. Instead, the woman who had stepped into my marriage, enduring silently for years, was the one they remembered and sympathized with. A faint ringing echoed in my ears. My body felt drained, desperate for rest. Then, a sharp light hit my eyes, and I blinked my eyes open. A familiar voice, filled with disapproval, reached me. "Tiffany, wake up. Yuna is almost done with class." I abruptly stood up and turned around, only to see my mother, who had passed away years ago. She was standing by the window, pulling back the curtains to let the sunlight pour in and reveal a lush garden outside. "Tiffany, still daydreaming? Go pick up Yuna now." She walked over and lightly patted my arm teasingly. "Were you up late reading romance novels again? I've told you so many times not to exhaust yourself. I'm still hoping you and Shawn will have a second child soon.""Mom ... " The dazzling light softened. Seeing my mother again, I instinctively grabbed her hand, felt its warmth, and clung to it like a precious treasure. "Mom, is it truly you? How did you get here?" She looked startled by my reaction, then curiously reached out to touch my forehead. "Tiffany, did you forget everything after sleeping? You were bored, so you asked the driver to bring me here from our hometown to stay for a few days." Her words unlocked memories buried deep in my mind. It was 2014, shortly after May. My mother had taken some time off, and I had arranged for the driver to bring her from our hometown to Hanzora so she could stay with me for a while. <i>Could it be ...</i> "Alright, stop acting strange. Go pick up Yuna. Shawn will be home for dinner tonight. I need to start preparing the fish," she said, heading downstairs. I took a deep breath and looked around. It was the villa Shawn had bought after we got married. In 2014, Yuna was already six and in kindergarten. Shawn, a local in Hanzora, managed the family business. As the eldest son, he had led the company exceptionally well, earning admiration from many. People often praised me for marrying a young, capable, and successful man. I stepped onto the balcony, letting the warm sunlight wash over me. So I was reborn for a second chance? Oh, thank God for sending me back to 2014! My past life was complete trash. This time, could I change it? Not far away, a group of young people played tennis on the community sports field, full of life and energy. I rested my chin in my hand for a while before suddenly laughing. Maybe my prayers had been answered after all the times I visited churches and made wishes. Taking a deep breath, I checked the time—3:40 p.m. It would take about 30 minutes to drive to Yuna's kindergarten. That had been my daily routine as a housewife. But today, I wanted a break. Yuna was my daughter, but she wasn't just my responsibility. I picked up my phone and called Shawn. His familiar, youthful voice came through. "What's wrong? Aren't you picking up Yuna?" I leaned back on the couch and casually lied, "I'm not feeling well. My stomach hurts. Can you go get her?""I have a meeting. Can your mom go instead?""My mom's busy cooking. You know I can't handle killing a fish. Just send the driver to pick her up." As long as I avoided picking up Yuna, Shawn would always find a way. "Alright, I'll have someone pick her up." Without another word, he ended the call. I rose from the couch and headed to the walk-in closet, stopping in front of the mirror. It reflected a young woman in a loose, casual outfit. Shawn wasn't drawn to me because of my good personality. It was purely because of my alluring face and figure. No one would have thought that someone as accomplished as Shawn had his shallow moments, too. He could be seen as a gentleman. After getting together with me, he was always courteous and never picked a fight. If we had disagreements, he would reason with me or withdraw in silence, but he never acted rough or crudely. He never swore, remained composed at all times, and handled situations smoothly. I remembered our wedding night. He had a drink before coming to bed. When he saw me in a mermaid dress, his eyes revealed both excitement and possessiveness, yet he still asked politely if he could touch me. I admired him. Though he didn't take me with overwhelming passion like other men might, my wish was still fulfilled that night—I became his wife in every sense. I held onto beautiful hopes, picturing a future where we spent every day together, raising children and building a life. He earned money while I took care of everything at home. But dreams and reality always seemed to be separated by an invisible line that could never be crossed. Five years into our marriage, he took a mistress. Her name was Queena Tackman—his assistant and closest confidante. He once told me she was his greatest support, someone who could stand beside him in battle and face his enemies. He couldn't live without her. Now, they had been together for over a year. In my previous life, I had been completely unaware during this time. But in this life, I had chosen to let go—both of him and myself. I would embrace my future with this mindset: "Cherish him—he's the only one who gives me money without asking me to repay with something like my body."

Chapter 2 A Lesson in Discipline In my previous life, I had a narrow outlook. But now, I wanted to see beyond my old limits. I no longer felt the need to prove my beauty or convince myself that Shawn would always love me. That kind of thinking was foolish. Luckily, I was naturally attractive—I could see it in the way men admired me. But looks alone weren't enough. Before, I indulged in the shallow satisfaction of being envied by women and admired by men. Now, I saw those feelings for what they were—fragile illusions, easily shattered. In my second chance at life, I understood that real security came from power, influence, and respect. Fairness might come from us, but if I wanted to stand my ground, I needed strength. If I were a wolf, I had to sharpen my fangs; if I were a sheep, I had to make sure I could run. After experiencing the terrifying previous life, I believed the rest of my life would be peaceful and calm. I studied my reflection for a while before slipping out of my casual dress and stepping into the bathroom. For five years, I had devoted myself to being the ideal wife, ensuring Shawn had nothing to worry about. I had packed away and discarded every outfit that accentuated my figure. Whenever I went shopping, I focused only on choosing modest and refined clothing. But now, my perspective had shifted. My body hadn't changed. In truth, it had only become fuller and more graceful with time. A simple, well-fitted dress could easily bring back my former radiance. Why should I let such a figure go to waste? ... The sky outside dimmed. An off-road vehicle soon pulled up in front of the house. I thought William, Shawn's driver, had picked up Yuna. But to my surprise, it was Shawn himself. He opened the back door, and Yuna, dragging her small school bag with one hand, half-stumbled into the living room. Seeing me sitting on the couch, she threw her bag at me. "Mommy! Why didn't you come get me? You promised to pick me up on time every day!" Watching my daughter, who had already developed such a fiery temper at a young age, I realized just how much I had spoiled her. She carried herself like a little princess, ordering me around as if I were her devoted maid. Shawn entered with a deep frown. At 30, he carried himself with the refined elegance of someone in power. Dressed in a suit, he had the poised demeanor of a CEO straight out of a novel. In my previous life, I had loved him so much that I lost myself. But now, I felt nothing, as if I was looking at a lover who had passed away yesterday. "I don't want to talk to you anymore!" Yuna shouted at me angrily. "You're a bad mommy!" I shot up from the couch and blocked her at the stairs. I grabbed her arm firmly, my voice low and cold. "Look at me. You do not speak to me like that." Her teary eyes filled with disbelief and fury. She shot me a sharp glare. "Pick up your school bag," I ordered firmly. "No!" she shouted in defiance. I raised my hand—not to strike, but to calm myself, pausing in the air for just a beat. Yuna flinched and shut her eyes tight, bracing for something that never came. "Tiffany." Shawn's stern voice cut through the air. I turned to him as he strode over, picked up the school bag, and silently led his furious daughter upstairs. Hearing the commotion, my mother stepped out of the kitchen. "What happened? Is Yuna crying?" I approached her. "Yes. I lost my temper. She's too spoiled.""She's still a child. Why did you do that?""Exactly because she's a child, she needs discipline. Otherwise, she won't respect me," I replied coolly. My tone made my mother give me a puzzled look. She was probably shocked. In the past, I always treated Yuna like she was precious. Even when she threw tantrums, I would patiently comfort her. Sometimes, it took me over an hour, and in the end, I had to compromise and agree to her various conditions to settle things. But now, I had no patience left. I didn't want to waste my time on an ungrateful child. After all, the one she would treasure wouldn't be me—it would be her stepmother, someone who held no real title in this family. I helped my mother prepare dinner. Since we had no maid, I was always the one doing the cooking. Every few days, a cleaner came to tidy up, and a gardener handled the yard work. I wanted to be a good wife, so I made sure the house was always spotless, both inside and out. I hoped Shawn would notice my hard work and speak well of me to others. "Mom, I'm going to the housekeeping agency tomorrow," I said casually while rinsing vegetables. My mother, busy at the stove, turned her head. "Why? Are you thinking of hiring a new cleaner?""No," I replied lazily. "I'm hiring two maids." Her face filled with disbelief. "Why? There's nothing urgent at home. You can manage the cooking, cleaning, and taking care of Yuna by yourself, can't you?""Mom, I'm a wealthy wife now. I don't want to do housework anymore," I said with a smile, though my tone was serious. "Women in my position have several maids. Why should I make things hard for myself when I can afford help?" She wanted to argue, but the food in the pan nearly burned, so she quickly turned back to the stove. Once dinner was ready, my mother told me, "Go call Shawn and Yuna down before the food gets cold." I went upstairs and stepped into the children's room, where Yuna was still sobbing. She gripped a pair of small scissors, snipping away at our photos. Every picture of me was cut into pieces—only hers remained intact. "What are you doing?" I was shocked. I never imagined she'd go so far as to destroy our photos just because I scolded her. She had always been ungrateful. "I don't want you to be my mommy! You're a bad mommy! You scared me!" Yuna lifted her head, fury burning in her teary eyes. Staring at her, whatever little affection I still had disappeared completely. "If I'm not your mother, then who do you want instead?" I asked calmly. Without hesitation, Yuna yelled, "I want Queena! She treats me the best! Not like you—you lied to me, didn't pick me up from school, and ... you hurt my feelings! I hate you!" I never imagined I'd hear Queena's name from my daughter so quickly. I was just about to question her further when Shawn's firm voice interrupted from the doorway. "Yuna, stop saying nonsense." Shawn had just ended a phone call when he stepped inside. The moment she saw him, Yuna dropped the scissors and ran straight into his arms. She clung to him tightly, sobbing as she pointed at me. "I don’t want her to be my mommy! She’s mean! She yelled at me!" He turned his gaze toward me, and for a brief moment, a flicker of surprise crossed his face. I knew why. The lace dress I wore hugged my figure, leaving my back exposed. My fair skin and elegant curves were impossible for him to ignore.

Chapter 3 Are You Going Out Dressed Like That? Shawn didn't seem to approve of my outfit. He probably thought dressing like that at home was improper—something no decent woman would do. In his eyes, a respectable wife wouldn't wear anything so revealing or flashy. "Hubby, Yuna just said she wants Queena as her mother. Who is Queena?" I asked casually, feigning curiosity as I stepped closer to him. Shawn shot a stern look at Yuna before turning to me. "She's just talking nonsense. Don't overthink it. Let's go eat." How unusual. He was actually trying to cover it up. In my previous life, I first learned about Queena by accident. I had stumbled upon Shawn having dinner with his friends in a private room and had been eager to greet him. Before I could enter, I overheard someone asking him when he planned to divorce me and make Queena his wife. Back then, Shawn had said he wasn't considering divorce—for Yuna's sake. The same person had pressed further, "Are you planning to keep things vague with Queena forever? Since there's no love left, wouldn't divorce be the best option?" Shawn had taken a slow drag from his cigarette, then stubbed it out. "Tiffany isn't my ideal wife, but she's Yuna's mother. As long as she doesn't cause trouble and accepts my relationship with Queena, I won't abandon her." I had stood frozen outside the door. I never imagined that one day, my husband would casually refer to me as "Yuna's mother" instead of his wife. He kept me around out of pity, all because I had given birth to his child. I stood frozen outside the door, listening as Shawn described me in a few simple terms. In his eyes, I was attractive but like a trophy wife—someone safe to keep at home and presentable enough to take out. He also called me diligent and responsible, the kind of woman elders praised. Lost in thought, I followed Shawn and Yuna down the stairs. My mother was already setting the table, serving bowls of soup. She mentioned it had been simmering for three hours and urged them to have more. Shawn was always respectful and kind to my mother, and in that regard, I had no complaints. "Granny, why did you have a daughter who loves to hit people? Can you take her back?" Yuna whined as we ate. I had just reached the last step when I heard her. Before my mother could reply, I said coldly, "If putting a child back in the womb were possible, you'd be the first one to go. Do you believe that?" My words must have sounded terrifying because Yuna instantly shrank back and clung to Shawn. He frowned at me. "Tiffany, what's wrong with you today? Why are you always picking fights with Yuna? She's the daughter you carried for ten months. Do you know how hurtful your words are to her?" I sat down, poured myself a bowl of soup, and responded casually, "She started it. I'm my mom's masterpiece, and she suggested my mom put me back. Am I not allowed to be annoyed?" My mother quickly tried to smooth things over with a smile. "Shawn, Tiffany was just joking. Don't take it seriously. Yuna, come have a chicken wing. I made it with Coke—it's delicious.""I'm not eating." Yuna pouted, pushing the plate away. Without hesitation, I slid my plate forward. "Mom, give it to me. I love this dish." My mother sighed as she looked between us as if wondering how our mother-daughter bond had faded so much. Shawn remained patient and focused on taking care of Yuna throughout dinner. Once I finished eating, I said, "I'm hiring two maids tomorrow to help take care of Yuna. What do you think?" He looked a bit surprised but didn't object. "The household matters are up to you. I have no opinion.""Why do you need maids? Aren't you already one?" Yuna blinked at me innocently. "Mommy, do you not want to take care of me anymore?" I nodded. "I just need a break. I also want to travel for a few days. I feel like I'll wither away if I stay home any longer.""Travel?" Shawn frowned. "Yuna still has school. Where do you plan on going?" I studied my neatly manicured nails and shrugged. "Don't worry, I won't go far. Just somewhere nearby to relax.""Daddy, I don't want Mommy to leave. She still has to take me to school." Yuna suddenly pouted. A moment ago, she had been glaring at me in resentment. But now, realizing I was about to leave, she quickly changed her approach. She climbed down from Shawn's lap and onto mine. "Mommy, even though you hit me earlier, I'm not mad anymore. Let's make up." I looked at my daughter, so young yet already calculating. She had inherited Shawn's intelligence, knowing exactly how to weigh situations to her advantage. In my previous life, I had praised her for being sharp and thoughtful. But in truth, I had failed as a mother. I overlooked the importance of teaching her proper values. She never respected and honored me as her mother. "Alright, I'm not upset anymore. But Yuna, you're starting primary school soon. You're growing up, so you need to start being independent instead of relying on others for everything," I said evenly. "Mommy, I'm still little. I still need you." Yuna pouted, her eyes blinking up at me. "As long as you don't hit me, I still love you." I smiled faintly. "I only discipline you because I want you to avoid bad habits. Otherwise, people won't like being around you, and making friends will be hard." Shawn seemed to think I was being too harsh. He frowned and said, "There's no need to say things like that. Yuna is just six.""Six isn't that little. At this age, she already knows how to cut up our family photos." I glanced at Yuna. "You can apologize, and I'll let it go, but those photos will never be the same." Without waiting for a response, I nudged her aside and stood up. "I'm heading out to meet my friend." My mother, still eating, looked up as I reached for my bag. "Tiffany, who are you going to see? It's late.""I'm just going to a movie," I replied with a small smile, then walked to the entrance to find my shoes. The neat rows of proper shoes irritated me. None of them could suit my perfect figure and vibe. After a moment of hesitation, I finally picked out a pair of silver high heels. "Are you going out dressed like that?" Shawn's voice came from behind me.

Chapter 4 His Calls No Longer Have Power I turned to look at Shawn. It had been years since he'd shown any real concern for me, and I almost found it laughable. But, of course, his worry wasn't about me—it was about maintaining his wife's image. "What's wrong with my outfit?" I asked, unwilling to stay silent this time. Shawn frowned, clearly displeased. But that was just how he was. As long as something didn't interfere with his core interests, he would tolerate it. "Nothing. Just don't stay out too late." With that, he turned and went upstairs. In the background, I could still hear my mother coaxing Yuna, urging her to eat a little more. I watched the scene unfold, shaking my head. I wouldn't stop others from doting on Yuna, but I had lost the ability to love. I could no longer spoil her the way a mother should. Grabbing my car keys, I stepped outside. Shawn had given me a silver Mercedes-Benz E-Class, but there were other options in the garage. I usually drove the Bentley when picking Yuna up from school. After all, it made a better statement. I started the engine and pressed the gas. Under the night sky, I had plans to meet a former university friend. Melanie Justice was a lawyer who had spent years building a career in this city. She was unmarried and had recently bought her home, inviting me to her housewarming party. That day, Yuna had fallen sick. Her vomiting and diarrhea kept me at her side all day. When Shawn came home, he blamed me for taking her to an indoor playground, saying that was how she had caught a virus. Thinking about the last time I had missed out, I took the initiative to invite Melanie tonight. She arrived in a rush with a briefcase, looking surprised. I handed her a blue gift box I had bought earlier. "I wasn't able to attend your housewarming, so this is for you." Melanie opened it and gasped. She lifted the gold bracelet inside and immediately slipped it onto her wrist. "My God, Tiffany, this is too much ... It's too expensive," she said, though her eyes sparkled with delight. I pressed her hand before she could take it off. "If you consider me a friend, then just accept it." Tears welled in her eyes as she hugged me. "Thank you, Tiffany. I love it." Hearing her say that, I smiled and pulled out two movie tickets. "Come watch a movie with me." Melanie shot me a teasing look, clearly surprised. "Oh? Why the sudden movie invitation? Did your husband and little princess finally grant you some time off?""I don't let them dictate my life anymore. From now on, I'll be the one making my choices." Thinking back to my past, I had always been caught up in endless tasks—so busy, yet never truly living for myself. "Seriously?" Melanie eyed me with disbelief, though her excitement was unmistakable. "Well, I must say, I like this new, carefree version of you—reminds me of the old days." I nodded. "I like it too." As we stepped into the theater, Melanie suddenly reached out and touched my back. I turned to her in confusion. Grinning mischievously, she lifted her hand. "Your back is gorgeous—I just had to touch it. It's strange, though. You always used to dress so conservatively. What made you change your style today?" I smiled. "Do I look good?" Leaning in close, she whispered, "You're practically hypnotizing every man within ten feet of you. Of course, you look good. That fair, delicate back of yours—such a little temptress!" I couldn't help but laugh. She hadn't changed at all—still as bold as ever. She reminded me of my younger self. "Let them stare all they want," I murmured back. "A wise person once said that beauty is meant to be seen. Hiding it would be a waste.""Won't Shawn get jealous?" Melanie teased as if his jealousy mattered to me. I chuckled. "If he feels the need to control what his wife wears, he isn't much of a man." Melanie burst into laughter at that, drawing curious glances from the people around us. She quickly covered her mouth and shot me a glare. "This is your fault. You just made me forget how to act like a lady." Smirking, I handed her the bucket of popcorn. "Here. Stuff your mouth with this and behave." The movie didn't hold my interest, but Melanie was completely into it, her eyes gleaming with excitement. I leaned back in my seat, resting my chin on my hand. Finally, I had a moment to process the reality that I had traveled back in time. At 26, I was still young. I had my whole future ahead of me, and this time, I would live for myself. For now, I was a wealthy wife, blessed with money, beauty, and a carefree life. In my previous life, I had believed that was the peak of success for a woman. I had been satisfied with a life without ambition, devoting myself entirely to raising my daughter. I had even dreamed of having a son—one as capable and charismatic as Shawn—so I could depend on my husband in my youth and my son in old age. But in reality, ever since Queena entered the picture, Shawn and I had barely been intimate. A whole year could pass without anything happening between us, while I, young and full of desire, longed for more. During my ovulation period each month, I would wait eagerly for him to come home. However, he acted as if he didn't see the effort I put into dressing up for him. Without a second glance, he would disappear into his study, staying there until the early hours of the morning before retreating to the guest room. I would lie awake, restless and frustrated, tossing and turning as I debated whether to gather the courage to knock on his door. Shawn was gentle and refined, not particularly intense in bed. But when he did engage, he could last an hour. He was quite restrained. He filled my mind with expectations and fantasies, yet real moments between us were scarce, leaving me even more frustrated. When the frustration became too much, I had no choice but to solve it myself, but it always felt hollow and unfulfilling. "Tiffany, is your phone ringing?" Melanie's voice pulled me from my thoughts. I glanced at the screen, seeing Shawn's name flash. Slipping the phone back into my bag, I said casually, "I don't want to be bothered while watching the movie." Melanie blinked at me in surprise before reminding me, "Tiffany, it's Shawn." Resting my chin on my hand, I kept my eyes on the screen and responded calmly, "I know. I'm not picking up." Her jaw dropped as she gawked at me for a long time. I understood why she was so shocked. In my previous life, Shawn's calls had been like commands, and I had treated each one as urgent. Ignoring him had never been an option. But now, after everything he had put me through—both emotionally and physically—I refused to obey him anymore. The phone eventually stopped ringing. But soon after, a message came in. Shawn said Yuna had a stomachache and needed to go to the hospital. He asked when I would be home.

Chapter 5 The Scumbag Ex-Husband Says He'll Stay Over Tonight I knew Yuna was faking her stomachache—it was just a way to manipulate her parents. Even at such a young age, she was full of schemes. With her high intelligence, she had me completely fooled in my past life. I replied, "Take her to see a doctor." After that, I put my phone down and focused on watching the end of the movie. Shawn left me alone after that. When the movie finished, some men behind me seemed to be pushing through, and one of them bumped into me by accident. He turned red with embarrassment. Melanie was about to confront him, but I gently held her hand and said, "It's fine." The man stammered out an apology before dragging his friend away. Melanie smirked and teased, "Looks like beauty really does lower IQ. Tiffany, Shawn is so lucky. He must be driven wild having to see your face and figure every day." Her words made my face heat up in an instant. I wasn't about to admit that maybe I was the one driven wild in this situation. "You'll get it once you have a boyfriend," I said with a smile. "Get what?" Melanie blinked in confusion. "No matter how beautiful a woman is, people eventually get used to seeing the same face. Don't put too much faith in romantic ideals," I said lightly. Melanie let out a frustrated sigh. "Now that you mention it, I see your point. I've handled a few divorce cases recently, and the wives were all gorgeous. But their husbands still cheated like it was nothing. It's completely shattered my view of relationships." She gritted her teeth in anger. I let out a bitter chuckle. "Don't expect too much from men." Sensing something was off, Melanie worriedly asked me, "Wait, is Shawn—does he have someone outside?" Shawn and Queena had only just started their affairs, and no one else knew yet. As his wife, I had no intention of making it public—after all, it didn't matter to me anymore. "Probably not." I kept up appearances. By the time I returned to the villa, it was already late, but the living room lights were still on. My mom was pacing around the living room with Yuna on her back. Yuna was nearly asleep, but the sound of the car engine woke her up. She quickly slid off my mom's back and ran to the door to wait for me. "Yuna, let me put you to bed. Mommy still needs to take a shower," my mom said, ever the worrier, as she walked over to persuade her. "No, I want Mommy," Yuna grumbled, clearly annoyed. She pushed my mother away. "Grandma, go upstairs and sleep. Don't worry about me." I parked the car and walked into the living room. The moment Yuna saw me, she ran over and clung to my leg. "Mommy, you're home so late! Were you out cheating?" Unsurprisingly, her comment earned her a gentle slap. "Who taught you to speak so like that?" Yuna held her cheek, her teary eyes welling up as tears streamed down her face. "You hit me again?" She pouted, crying as she slowly backed away. Then, without another word, she turned and ran upstairs in sadness. My mom looked at me in shock, then glanced toward the stairs. "Tiffany, why did you slap Yuna the moment you got home? She's been waiting for you all night. Don't be angry with her." I smiled at her. "It's fine. A little discipline won't hurt. You heard what she just said—talking nonsense at her age. She needs to be taught a lesson." My mom frowned, her expression stern. "She probably picked it up from TV. She's too young to even understand what she's saying. Kids are sensitive—you slapped her, and now her pride is hurt. Don't do it again.""Okay, Mom. It's late; go get some rest," I replied, but inside, I was convinced that Yuna's upbringing needed a serious reevaluation. Even if she kept disrespecting and ignoring me, it would still be better than loving her deeply and being repaid with betrayal and hatred. I walked upstairs, step by step. At the top of the staircase, Shawn stood holding a tearful Yuna, as if he had been waiting for me. Pausing at the stairs, I looked up at them with a faint, unreadable smile. "What now? Did she run to you to complain?""Daddy, my face hurts so much ... Does Mommy want to beat me to death?" Yuna clung to Shawn's neck, looking pitiful as she tearfully accused me. I continued walking upstairs, my tone indifferent. "If one slap could kill you, then honestly, you were just wasting air.""Tiffany, we need to talk ... " Shawn said, setting Yuna down and crouching to comfort her. "Go lie down in your room. I'll come read you a bedtime story in a bit.""Hmph!" Feeling comforted by Shawn's attention, Yuna glared at me, her nose scrunching in defiance, before stomping into her room and slamming the door behind her. I didn't follow Shawn to his study. Instead, I went straight to the master bedroom. Sitting in front of the vanity, I slowly removed my earrings. Dressed in a sleek, form-fitting dress, my long, jet-black hair cascaded down my back like seaweed, flowing without any styling. Its natural waves carried an effortless allure, exuding elegance and charm. I didn't know if Shawn was tired of me. In my past life, no matter how hard I tried to please him, he would push me away with a blank expression and simply say, "I'm tired from work. Get some rest." I sat charmingly on the white chair, turning to look at him, and saw that he was zoning out. "What do you want to talk about?" I asked. Shawn snapped out of it, his expression turning serious. "Why did you keep hitting Yuna today? She's just a child. Even if she made a mistake, as her mother, a few words of guidance should be enough. You don't hit a child in the face—she has her own pride too." I nodded and stood up, resting my hands on the vanity behind me. Tilting my head back slightly, I arched my body just enough to exude confidence and allure as I looked at him. "Then you must not have heard what she said to me.""No matter what she said—""She said I was out this late because I was cheating." I cut him off, smiling. "Cheating isn't a small matter. If that got out, it wouldn't just ruin my reputation—it would damage yours too." Shawn frowned, his expression turning grim. I wasn't sure if it was the word cheating that struck a nerve, but he clearly didn't look pleased. After all, he was the one doing the cheating. "Yuna is still a child. She doesn't understand what she's saying," he defended her. I held out my fingers. They used to be slender, delicate, and fair, but years of housework had made them rougher. I looked at them and said indifferently, "She's so young and already so rebellious. I can't imagine what she'll be like when she grows up. You know that strict discipline raises respectful children. If you don't like how I'm raising her, why don't you take over from now on?" Seeing that I was neither reflecting on myself nor taking responsibility, Shawn became angrier. "Tiffany, do you know what you're saying? She's your daughter. It's your responsibility to raise her properly." I nodded. "Of course, I know that. But when I'm disciplining her, I'd appreciate it if you didn't interfere. If you want to be a kind and loving father, then let me be a strict mother. You play the good cop, I'll play the bad cop. I don't mind if she ends up hating me ... but don't blame me either." Shawn's face stiffened, a rare crack appearing in his usually composed, handsome features. "Go take a shower. I'll put Yuna to sleep and come over," he said, as if choosing to drop the argument. Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away. I was momentarily taken aback. <i>Did he just say he was coming over?</i> <i>Is this his way of showing affection?</i>

Chapter 6 I Wanted to Start Again By the time Shawn came over, I was still in the shower. When I stepped out, dressed in my pajamas, I saw that he had also changed into his and was sitting on the other side of the bed, casually flipping through a book. The quiet rustling of pages was the only sound in the room. I sat down at my vanity, carefully applying my skincare products. As I went through my routine, my mind drifted, wandering to what was missing from my collection and what I needed to restock tomorrow. I spent over ten minutes tending to my skin when Shawn finally asked from the bed, "Are you done?" After smoothing on the last bit of moisturizer, I walked over and lay down. Only then did he set his book aside, switching off the main light and leaving just a dim bedside lamp on. The soft glow filled the room, adding a sense of intimacy. His hand reached over, resting on my chest. Then, in his usual refined and courteous manner, he asked, "Is this okay?" I had been waiting for him to say that. I replied seriously, "I'm a little tired today. Maybe next time." His hand, which had just reached over, immediately froze. After a few seconds, he pulled it back and said, "Alright." Sharing the same bed but lost in our own thoughts—I actually fell asleep with ease. Turns out that having nothing to dwell on really does improve sleep. The next morning, my alarm clock jolted me awake. Shawn was already gone. I stood there for a moment before getting dressed and stepping out of the room. Down the hall, I heard Yuna's spoiled, stubborn voice. "Daddy, I want you to take me. I don't want her. I haven't forgiven her yet.""Yuna, she's your mother.""But she hit me! Twice! What kind of mother does that?" Sharp-tongued as ever. Not that it surprised me. "She did it because she wants to teach you properly. I'm sure she didn't mean to hurt you. It probably made her feel bad too," Shawn explained. "Hmph! I don't care. I just want you to take me!" Yuna demanded, stubborn as ever. Shawn had always spoiled her, and he could never say no. In the end, he gave in. "Alright, let's go." Yuna grabbed her little backpack and happily followed him downstairs. I stayed by the door, listening. Once I heard them leave, I decided not to go down. They took their breakfast to eat in the car, and only then did I go downstairs. Watching their car disappear into the distance, I thought to myself, <i>Those two are better off sticking together. The less they bother me, the better.</i> I had two tasks today. First, hire two reliable maids. Second, find a private investigator to secretly gather evidence of Shawn and Queena's affair. This was all in preparation for the divorce and property division. In my past life, I never cared about money. I always had a few million sitting in my account, but my spending habits were minimal—I didn't buy luxury brands or indulge in expensive things. I played the role of the perfect wife, always thinking about managing the household wisely and only spending money where it was necessary. Now, I saw things clearly. Money was best kept firmly in my own hands—and the more, the better. My mom came with me to a housekeeping agency, where we conducted three rounds of interviews before finally selecting two maids who seemed like a good fit. In the afternoon, I took her shopping and bought her a bunch of things, leaving her so stunned she almost jumped in disbelief. On the way home, she kept complaining, "Tiffany, Shawn's money doesn't grow on trees! How can you spend like this? A scarf for 60,000? Is it made of gold? That's outrageous!""Mom, just accept it. It's my way of showing you my love." I cherished my mother deeply—she was the most devoted and caring person in my life. If things played out like my past life, she wouldn't have many years left. I wanted to give her the best while I still had the chance. "Spending money like this isn't practical. I know you're wealthy and filial, but I'm too old for anything fancy now. Focus on Shawn and Yuna, build a strong marriage, and have a son soon. That's the best way to show your love for me." My mom, holding onto old beliefs, just wants an heir. In my past life, I had tried everything to get pregnant sooner—I took countless herbal remedies and visited numerous doctors. But since Shawn barely touched me, all my efforts were in vain. In the end, I never had another child. In this life, there was no way I would give him a son. "Mom, I already have a daughter. That proof I can have children," I said calmly. "Of course, you can have children," my mom said anxiously. "You and Shawn are still young, and he's the eldest son. Now that he's in charge of the company, people will talk if he doesn't have an heir. He must be hoping for a son." She was worried that without a son, my position wouldn't be secure. But I had no such concerns. If Shawn wanted an heir, Queena could take care of that. It wasn't my problem. All I needed was proof of his affair to push for a divorce and secure my share of the assets. I was young, attractive, and financially stable—I could definitely live a fulfilling life on my own. Not wanting to argue with my mom or upset her, I changed the subject. "Mom, are you leaving the day after tomorrow? Why not stay a little longer?""I can't leave your father and brother for too long. As long as I know you're doing well, that's enough for me," she said. She had always been the type to worry—her whole life had been dedicated to the family. I knew her heart wasn't really here with me, so I didn't try to persuade her to stay. Before she left, I slipped a bank card with three million into her bag. Shawn hadn't been home for two days, and Yuna had vanished along with him—no calls, no messages. But I didn't bother to ask about their whereabouts. Unlike my past life, where their absence would leave me feeling lost and desperate, desperately calling to find them, this time, I felt nothing. Over the past two days, I got rid of all the clothes I no longer liked—some were donated, while others were tossed out. The same went for the shoes that lacked any femininity. I replaced them all with a stylish selection. The two maids had also moved in—one for cleaning, the other for cooking—instantly making my life more convenient. But I had no plans to waste my days in idleness. It was time to revisit my profession and start a new chapter. I was ready to get back to work. I studied hotel management at university, and my parents spent a lot on my hobbies like dancing and playing the violin. After getting married and having kids, I became lazy and stopped pursuing them. Now, I wanted to start again. I scheduled lessons with my old instructors and also decided to improve my Englarian. As a widely spoken language, mastering it would make traveling—or even moving abroad—much easier. The last time I gave Melanie a gold bracelet, she felt so grateful that she insisted on treating me to a fancy dinner. I accepted her invitation. "Tsk, tsk, this dress looks like it was designed just for you—gorgeous," Melanie praised without holding back the moment she saw me. They say purple carries a certain charm. That night, I wore a sleek, form-fitting purple dress—off-the-shoulder with a subtle open-back design. A delicate platinum necklace and elegant swan-shaped earrings added the perfect finishing touch. I had always known what kind of woman could captivate a man. And it seemed the pure seductress look was finally working its magic on me. As Melanie led me inside, she suddenly grabbed my fingers tightly. "Tiffany, let's go somewhere else." But I had already seen what she was trying to hide. Shawn was sitting by the window with Yuna, and right beside them was a woman in a beige business suit—Queena.

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The last thing I felt was the cold drip of morphine in my veins, the sterile scent of hospice, and the cruel words of my daughter wishing me gone. Then—light. Blinding, golden sunlight streaming through curtains I hadn't opened in years. My mother's voice, soft and scolding, pulled me back: "Tiffany, wake up. Yuna is almost done with class."

I shot upright, heart pounding. This wasn't the hospital. This was our villa. The same one Shawn bought after we married. I rushed to the mirror—twenty-six again, smooth skin, full lips, untouched by cancer. The calendar read May 15, 2014.

I had been dead for thirty years. And now I was back.

No more sacrifices. No more begging for scraps of affection. This time, I'd put myself first. But when I called Shawn to skip picking up Yuna, he didn't argue—he just hung up. And later, dressed in a daring lace gown, I saw the flicker in his eyes. Not disapproval. Hunger.

Was he already cheating? Or had my awakening changed something deeper?