Chapter 3

In my first life, that very vase had cracked my skull and triggered my labor.

This time, I was ready. I ducked swiftly, letting it shatter against the wall behind me.

"You bitch, you dare dodge me?! I'm gonna kill you and the little bastard in your gut!" Luke yelled, stumbling drunkenly as he lunged toward me.

Instead of retreating, I surged forward. Grabbing a jagged shard of ceramic off the floor, I drove it straight into the side of his neck.

Luke grunted in agony and slammed a heavy palm into my chest. As I was thrown back, the sharp edge in my hand dragged across his throat, slicing his windpipe clean open.

He clamped both hands over his neck, crimson spurting wildly through his trembling fingers. The sudden, agonizing pain instantly shattered his drunken haze as he stared at me in horrified disbelief.

"Y-You... why...?"

I hit the floor, coughing up a mouthful of blood, but my face broke into a broad, savage grin.

"Because you deserve to die, you bastard."

Only your death can change this script!

...

I closed my eyes, expecting the clock to roll back even further.

Yet when I woke up, all I received was another heavy slap from a reeking, drunken Luke.

"Slut! You went behind my back and fucked another man! I..."

Panic gripped my chest like a vise.

Why hadn't the timeline reset further back?

I curled on the floor, letting his blows rain down on my shoulders, using the sharp physical pain to force my racing mind into absolute focus.

Of course. This time, I only killed Luke. I didn't kill Chloe.

To test my theory, I clutched my stomach and began screaming in agonizing pain.

"Help! Someone help me! The baby's coming!"

Luke's drunkenness was always half an act anyway. Seeing me writhing and howling on the floor, he sobered up instantly. He scooped me up and rushed me straight to the private clinic he had arranged beforehand.

"Hurry, get the doctor!"

Luke was pushed out into the waiting hallway.

Inside the delivery room, I slipped a heavy jade bangle off my wrist and pressed it into the attending nurse's palm.

"Tell him I'm hemorrhaging. Tell him the mother isn't going to make it."

The nurse blinked, startled and confused.

Right now, Luke was still working hard to maintain his public image as a devoted husband so no one would suspect his relationship with Chloe. The nurse pocketed the jade and agreed to play along.

I let out raspy, agonizing groans on cue.

By nightfall, the nurse opened the doors and ushered Luke inside. "Mr. Vance, your wife is fading fast. You need to say your final goodbyes."

Luke rushed to the bedside. My face was chalk-white, my breathing shallow and ragged.

I grabbed his hand and signaled the medical staff to leave us alone.

"Luke... the baby inside me... it belongs to Preston Kane."

Ignoring the flash of panic and shock in his eyes, I forced a weak whisper:

"I'm dying... I can't let this child ruin your career. But he might be Mr. Kane's only son. Call Chloe here... she needs a child to secure her place as his mistress!"

Shock hit him first, followed by overwhelming emotion.

He never doubted for a second that I was handing over my child on my deathbed out of pure devotion. He immediately called his driver to pick up Chloe.

"Luke... I'm so cold. Hold me, please."

Drowning in unearned guilt, Luke bent down and wrapped his arms around me.

I circled my arms around his neck. "Luke, do you know what my biggest regret in this entire life is?"

"It's my fault, Serena. If I hadn't taken you to that company party, you wouldn't have been targeted by Mr. Kane..."

I pressed my hand over his mouth and jammed the hidden fountain pen deep into his ear canal once again, violently twisting it.

"My biggest regret was ever saving you two pathetic parasites."

When Chloe rushed into the room, Luke's corpse was already hidden under my bed.

The room smelled heavily of iron and blood, which she found completely normal for a difficult labor.

Her eyes gleamed with raw greed as she stared at my swollen belly, like she was looking at a winning lottery ticket.

"Serena, I can't push him out," I gasped weakly. "Take the surgical scissors and cut him out of me... please."

"Okay." Chloe grabbed a heavy pair of scissors from the tray and stepped closer.

The second she leaned over to locate where to make the incision, I pulled a second pair of scissors from beneath my pillow and drove the blades deep into her throat.

She clutched her neck, her eyes bulging with terror. "Y-You..."

I pushed myself up, pinned her beneath my weight, and drove the steel blades into her face, her throat, her chest, and her arms—over and over and over again.

In her final agonizing second of consciousness, Chloe's head lolled sideways. Her dying gaze locked straight onto Luke's unblinking, dead eyes staring out from underneath the bed.

Dropping the bloody scissors, I closed my eyes and waited.