Chapter 1

My husband, Logan Hayes, was supposed to have shattered his spine saving my life from an oncoming truck, leaving him permanently paralyzed and infertile.

For thirty years, I devoted every single second to caring for him without a shred of resentment—right up until the day I held his funeral urn.

That was when our maid, Chloe Stewart, showed up at his memorial, dragging a young man with Logan’s exact eyes and nose. She shoved him straight down onto his knees in front of the altar.

"Leo, bow three times to your father," she commanded loudly.

"For thirty years, he wired six thousand dollars every single month like clockwork. Every single piece of real estate and company asset under his name was transferred to you long ago!"

"You are the sole heir of the Hayes family. You're going to carry this family forward. Don't you dare disappoint your father!"

In that single second, my entire world turned to ash.

Soon after, I was thrown onto the street with literally nothing to my name, dying of starvation and cold in a filthy alleyway. Only then did the cruel truth find me.

Chloe was never just a maid. She was his golden girl, the lover he obsessed over his entire life.

Logan was never infertile. He just refused to let a woman he despised carry his child.

Those thirty years of so-called self-sacrificing devotion? It was nothing but a sickening scheme designed to clear a smooth path for his real woman and his secret son.

Drowning in sheer, suffocating hatred, I drew my last breath.

When my eyes snapped open again, I was back.

Back to three days before that fateful car crash.

Logan Hayes, in this life? I'm not your servant anymore.

You can choke on your precious golden girl and your little bastard all by yourself!

I opened my eyes abruptly, blinded by the harsh morning sunlight.

Lying beside me was a young, handsome Logan. His spine was intact. His breathing was steady, his muscular arm lazily draped over my waist.

My hand instinctively darted to the nightstand, grabbing my phone. The screen lit up.

There were exactly three days left until the car crash that ruined my entire existence.

In my previous life, today was supposed to be the day he drove me down to City Hall to register our marriage. On the road, a freight truck smashed right into his side of the car.

His spine shattered. He was paralyzed from the waist down and pronounced permanently sterile.

I stayed by his bedside for thirty miserable years. Emptying his bedpans, wiping his sweat, feeding him spoon by spoon. I never slept through a single night.

And only when he died did I find out he already had a toddler with our housekeeper.

"Evelyn?"

Logan stirred, woken by my sudden movement. He opened his sleepy eyes, effortlessly putting on that tender, deeply affectionate facade I used to worship.

He reached out, trying to pull me against his chest, his voice dripping with the honeyed poison that fooled me for two lifetimes.

"Are you still upset I couldn't make it to the wedding photoshoot the other day? Don't pout. Once this busy week is over, I'll make it up to you, baby."

"Once we’re married, I’ll spend my whole life loving you."

I stared into his eyes.

In my last life, when he whispered those exact words, his phone was buzzing with texts finalizing the crash details with a hired truck driver.

He and Chloe were already discussing how she would slip into our household disguised as a maid after our wedding.

I didn't melt like I did in my past life. I pulled my hand away with freezing indifference. "Save it."

Logan froze for a second.

Then, his face softened into an amused, condescending smirk. To him, I was just throwing a childish tantrum. His arrogant core made him completely certain:

Evelyn Vance was desperately in love with him. She couldn't breathe without him. Give her two days to throw a fit, and she’d come crawling back on her knees.

He rolled out of bed, planting a casual kiss on my forehead. "I'm heading to the office. I'll take you out tonight, sweetie."

The second the door clicked shut, I threw the covers off.

I picked the lock on his study's hidden safe. In my past life, I hadn't touched it until the day I died.

Inside sat a prenuptial agreement designed like a death trap.

The second my pen hit the paper, all of my personal assets would become joint property, while his personal debts would become my sole legal liability.

Next to it were five years of hefty bank wire receipts to Chloe Stewart. Every single dime was accounted for.

And right beneath them lay an accidental death and dismemberment insurance policy. The sole beneficiary: Logan Hayes himself.

Along with a receipt showing a hefty wire deposit sent to an independent truck driver—dated exactly three days ago.

I snapped crystal-clear photos of every single document and backed them up to the cloud. On the spot, I called my attorney to draw up an airtight, immediate breakup agreement.

Then, I booked a one-way flight out of the country, departing at the exact hour the crash was scheduled to happen in three days.

At three in the afternoon, Logan received the legal separation notice from my attorney.

His call exploded onto my screen within seconds. His voice was seething with rage:

"Evelyn! What the hell is your problem now? Playing hard to get? Don't you get tired of these childish games?"

My voice remained ice cold. "Logan, we’re done. The wedding is off."