The one being led away in handcuffs was a scrawny guy with bleached blond hair, dressed in cheap, ill-fitting clothes. From head to toe, he radiated that unmistakable air of a street punk—lazy, shiftless, and up to no good.
Claire froze the moment she saw him.
She knew this man far too well.
In her previous life, it was because of him that she refused to be adopted. Because she wasn’t adopted, she ended up back with the Linwood family, where she suffered years of cruel abuse.
And it was because of him that, when she finally stood in court, her words fell on deaf ears. She was sentenced to five years in prison, unable to defend herself.
There was no mistaking it—this man was Vincent.
In her past life, Claire had worked herself to the bone, scrimping and saving, juggling multiple jobs, winning every competition she could just to earn enough money to pay for his college tuition. She put him through law school, hoping he’d have a better future.
But Vincent used her as a stepping stone, clawing his way up to the top at the expense of her blood, sweat, and tears.
The first thing he did on his climb was cut her loose—he sent her to prison to clear his own path.
Back then, Vincent was riding high for years.
He lived in a penthouse in the heart of Cresthaven, worth millions. He drove a luxury car, wore tailored Italian suits—everything about him screamed elite, from his slicked-back hair to his polished shoes. He was a man built out of money and ambition.
But this Vincent, without her sacrifices, had grown up to be nothing but a worthless petty criminal.
The officers marched Vincent toward the county jail.
As they passed, Claire spoke up. “Officer, what’s he being charged with?”
Normally, the police wouldn’t have answered, but Claire was a nationally recognized talent—one of the country’s brightest young minds. The officer replied, “Soliciting and organizing illegal acts.”
Claire paused, startled.
So, that was it. Without her, Vincent really was nothing but a piece of trash.
Now, she couldn’t even muster a flicker of interest in his fate. He was just another nobody, someone who’d never matter to her again.
His best years would be spent behind bars.
Time slipped by. Ten years passed in a blur.
Now, Claire was twenty-seven.
In her last life, she had only made it to twenty-three. The Linwoods had broken her, and in the end, she drank poison to take the fall for Mandy.
But this time, there would be no tragic ending.
At twenty-seven, Claire had shed her youthful innocence. She was tall, graceful, with striking curves and an irresistible confidence.
For the past decade, she’d thrown herself into research, rarely returning home. Now, after her work had finally reached a breakthrough, she was ready to take a well-deserved rest.
And maybe—just maybe—get married.
Claire’s wedding was the event of the season. The city’s business magnates and political heavyweights all showed up. It was a spectacle the likes of which few had ever seen.
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