Riddle Rosehearts stood in the elegant foyer of his luxurious home, the scent of expensive wood polish and fresh-cut roses filling the air. He watched, a knot of dread tightening in his stomach, as his twin children, Remy and Riele, ran past him, their laughter echoing a cruel melody from his past.

Then, a small figure with big, curious eyes and a shy smile peeked out from behind a large armchair. It was his youngest son, his real child. The sight of his face, so full of innocent trust, sent a wave of agonizing guilt through him.

He was back. Ten years back.

The last thing he remembered was the chilling plunge from the bridge, a desperate attempt to escape the crushing weight of his past life's mistakes. He'd been a successful lawyer, married to a beautiful woman, Remilia. He'd had two children, Remy and Riele, whom he had lavished with every luxury and affection.

They were his world, or so he thought. His youngest son, born a few years later, was a constant source of frustration and cold indifference. He looked nothing like him or the twins, and Riddle, in his foolish pride, saw him as a stain on his perfect family. He treated him more like a servant than a son, a ghost in his own home. The twins, spoiled and malicious, delighted in tormenting him, and Riddle had always turned a blind eye.

The horrific climax came when his youngest son, unable to bear the relentless cruelty and neglect, took his own life at the tender age of fifteen. The world had come crashing down for Riddle shortly after. A shocking paternity test revealed that the twins weren't his at all, but the product of Remilia's affair. They had also systematically drained his accounts, leaving him financially ruined and terribly in debt.

The revelation had been too much. The guilt of his actions towards his youngest son, the betrayal of his wife and the twins, and the loss of everything he held dear had driven him to that bridge. Now, he was here again. The twins, Remy and Riele, were just ten years old, and his youngest son was a sweet, five-year-old boy. The memories of the future were a vivid, burning scar on his soul.

This time, things would be different. This time, he would protect his real son.