Chapter 1

At my high-society wedding to my fiancé, Tristan Lu, his executive assistant—and the secret love of his life, Vivian Lin—slit her wrists in a hotel penthouse suite.

Tristan smashed the crystal champagne flute meant for our toast. After a brief, heavy silence, he coldly ordered his men, "Wire the hospital whatever it takes. Get her the best care money can buy."

Then, pretending nothing had happened, he returned to my side, ready to proceed with our arranged corporate union.

Three years later, on the eve of Tristan officially taking over the Lu Corporation, a staged "accidental" car crash left me permanently infertile.

Using my condition as an excuse, he shipped me off to a desolate, remote sanitarium abroad. He called it "rest and recovery," but in reality, it was lifelong house arrest.

The night he abandoned me there, he pointed at a framed photo of Vivian and spat:

"She was pregnant with my child back then! If your family hadn't used that joint venture to force me into marrying you, Vivian would never have been driven to suicide. You killed both of them!"

"A barren woman like you doesn't deserve children of your own anyway. Rot here for the rest of your miserable life to atone for what you did to Vivian and our unborn baby."

Within a year, my father's conglomerate was aggressively shorted and driven into bankruptcy.

Shortly after, I died in that bleak facility from a sudden heart attack, drowning in bitter regret.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of our grand wedding.

The officiant was reciting romantic vows on stage, and the ballroom erupted in thunderous applause.

The chilling realization hit me instantly: I had been reborn.

I clutched my bouquet, fighting to steady my racing heart.

Since fate had granted me a second chance, I swore I wouldn't walk into that trap again.

Everything Tristan owed me from my past life—I was going to make him pay it back a hundredfold!

Tristan took my hand and led me toward the center of the altar, my expression concealed behind the delicate lace veil.

My executive assistant, Chloe, stepped up to adjust my train. Taking advantage of the moment, I leaned in and whispered a few sharp instructions into her ear.

A sharp gleam flashed across Chloe's eyes. Without a word, she quietly stepped back and slipped away.

My father had groomed her himself. She was my most trusted right hand; leaving this task to her was the safest bet.

The alliance between the Lu and Stone families had drawn every major corporate titan and elite socialite in the country.

Under the glittering crystal chandeliers, the officiant announced over the microphone, "And now, the bride and groom will exchange their rings."

Suddenly, a woman in a bridesmaid dress stumbled onto the stage, gasping for breath. "Mr. Lu, it's terrible! Vivian... Vivian tried to kill herself!"

Her mascara was running as she dropped to her knees, crying hysterically, "Vivian grew up with you! You two share such a deep bond! Please, go save her!"

Tristan's grip on my hand went slack. The velvet ring box slipped from his fingers and hit the marble floor with a sharp clatter.

"How could she be so reckless? I told her I'd give her what she wanted once the ceremony was over..."

Catching himself mid-sentence, he clamped his mouth shut, realizing he had said too much.

He spun on his heel to dash off the stage, but his foot caught on the hem of my long bridal train. That stumble finally reminded him that this was his own wedding.

The audience was packed with industry moguls and press reporters. If he abandoned the altar right now, Lu Corporation's stock would tank by sunrise.

Freezing in his tracks, he turned to me with frantic eyes. "Victoria, let me go check on Vivian first. We'll resume the ceremony once I'm back. Our marriage is already set in stone anyway—a short delay won't matter."

With reddened eyes, I lowered my head, putting on a fragile, accommodating facade. "Tristan, a life is at stake. Let me come with you. She's your employee, after all; if something happens to her, it reflects poorly on both of us."

Relief and approval flashed across his face. "Good. I knew you'd be sensible."

Pausing a multi-billion-dollar wedding midway so the bride and groom could check on a suicidal assistant was practically handing tomorrow's tabloids a front-page scandal. The guests trailed behind us in hushed, buzzing clusters.

Inside the presidential suite, Vivian sat crumpled in a white dress, thick gauze wrapped around her wrist. A blood-stained utility knife lay abandoned on the carpet.

The second she saw Tristan enter, tears poured down her cheeks, and she threw herself into his arms. "Tristan! I didn't mean to... I just love you too much!"

"I know I come from a humble background and don't deserve you. But just once, I wanted to wear white and be your bride, like any ordinary girl."

"I don't need a legal title, Tristan. I just wanted this one dream."

"You've always known that my only wish since we were kids was to be your wife."

Tristan held her tightly, his expression torn with raw anguish. "You foolish girl! Didn't I promise I'd take care of everything after the ceremony?"

"Why would you do something so stupid? If anything happened to you, how could I go on?"

Vivian took his hand and pressed his trembling palm gently against her flat stomach. "Tristan... the doctor confirmed it a few days ago. I'm... I'm two months pregnant with your baby."