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“Ms. Blackwood, shall we head back now?”
As I walked out of the mall, my bodyguard followed behind me, carrying bags upon bags of purchases, his attitude respectful.
I nodded and headed toward the Rolls–Royce parked by the roadside.
At the intersection, I noticed a woman with a young boy watching me sneakily.
I let out a cold laugh. So it really was Celeste Langley, that shameless woman.
Just like in my previous life, they had been waiting there as I was leaving the mall, preparing to go home.
I saw a little boy run into the street. A speeding car was heading straight for him. Strangely, that boy looked almost identical to my own child, who had died young.
I had just finished a business meeting and was exhausted.
In my panic, I even thought for a moment that it was my son, Oliver.
But Oliver had been dead for five years.
That afternoon, the nanny had taken him out to play.
Somehow, he ran into the street and was hit by a car.
Just minutes earlier, he had called me, telling me how happy he was.
At the time, my company was about to go public, and I was drowning in work.
By the time I got home and heard the devastating news, it was already late at night. The nanny had long since disappeared, terrified of facing a manslaughter charge.
I never believed it was an accident. Oliver had always been so obedient. I couldn’t accept that he would run into the street on his own.
I had taught him from a young age never to play on the road. How could he have ignored my words?
The surveillance cameras on that street just happened to malfunction at that exact moment. For countless nights, I drove myself mad with suspicion.
I suspected business rivals. I suspected old enemies.
But without finding that nanny, I could never uncover the truth.
It became my greatest torment, my lifelong nightmare.
In so many dreams, I saved my child over and over again.
So when I saw this boy, who looked so much like my Oliver, about to be hit by a car, the memories of those dreams flooded my mind.
My body moved faster than my thoughts. Without hesitation, I rushed forward to save him. I ran so fast that even my bodyguard couldn’t stop me.
Though the driver had noticed the boy and started braking, I was still hit and thrown thro the air.
After Oliver’s death, I had suffered from endless sleepless nights.
I buried myself in work, neglected my health, and barely ate.
D
21:57 Tue, 18 Feb
ICU.
After Oliver’s death, I had suffered from endless sleepless nights.
I buried myself in work, neglected my health, and barely ate.
My body had long since fallen apart.
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After saving that child, I fell into a coma for a long time and spent over three months in the
My legs were left permanently damaged. The doctor warned me to take care of myself, or I
might end up bedridden for life.
The day after I woke up, my husband, Elliott Sinclair, eagerly brought that child to see me.
His name was Oscar.
I looked at his face, momentarily dazed.
Elliott told me that this child was destined to be with us. He was an orphan, and adopting him
might ease my grief over losing Oliver.
I stroked his familiar little face, and tears streamed down my cheeks.
Without hesitation, I agreed.
Back then, I was so naive. I truly believed that Oliver had returned to me, longing to be with
his mother again.
I poured all the love I had for Oliver into Oscar.
Despite my busy schedule, I took him to amusement parks myself, cooked his meals with my
own hands, and personally drove him to and from school.
In my heart, I had already accepted him as my own son.
But I never expected that Oscar was actually Elliott and his mistress’s child.
That was why he looked so much like Oliver.
They had the same father, of course, they resembled each other.
Elliott, urged on by his mistress, even drugged my drinks to further weaken my already broken body.
By the time I realized the truth, I was already on my deathbed.
As I lay dying, Celeste brought another child into my home.
So Oscar had a younger brother, Adrian.
That woman had given Elliott not just one son, but a pair of adorable twins.
No wonder Elliott was never home at night. It turned out he had been busy playing around
outside.
While I drowned in grief over Oliver’s death, I had no interest in intimacy.
Elliott had asked me for it a few times, but I refused.
After that, he never brought it up again. Instead, he used Oliver’s death as an excuse to move into a separate bedroom.
her.
Celeste proudly flaunted everything in front of me, bragging about how much Elliott love
She mocked me, saying that since I couldn’t bear children, I had no right to blame Elliott for seeking comfort elsewhere.
21:57 Tue, 18 Feb HB.
up my
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into a separate bedroom.
her.
Celeste proudly flaunted everything in front of me, bragging about how much Elliott loved
She mocked me, saying that since I couldn’t bear children, I had no right to blame Elliott for seeking comfort elsewhere.
Judging by the twins‘ ages, Elliott must have been with her shortly after Oliver’s death. So this was all part of their plan. They knew my weakness and used Oscar to lure me in. “Ms. Blackwood, what’s the point of being such a successful businesswoman? You couldn’t even keep your own husband, and in the end, all your wealth ended up in our pockets.”
I was so furious that I laughed.
I thought, “Elliott, how dare you? Everything you have today was given to you by me!”
If looks could kill, Celeste would have been torn to pieces by now.
“How heartless you are. Did it ever occur to you that if I hadn’t seen him, or if I hadn’t risked my life to save him, your child would have died that day?”
She waved her hand dismissively.
“You’re just too softhearted. That’s why you’ll never achieve great things.
Sacrifices have to be made for the bigger picture. Besides, unlike you, I have another son.
What’s there to be afraid of?
Just hurry up and die already. Then Elliott and I can finally get married, and you can reunite with your poor son. It’s a win–win, isn’t it?”
I trembled with rage.
The doctors had warned me not to let my emotions get the better of me.
I tried to stay calm, but Celeste delivered the final blow.
“Oh, Ms. Blackwood, you’re such a proud woman. Did you really think Elliott only got involved with me after your son died?
Do you
know how much I sacrificed to take back what was mine? When you’re dead, go ask
your son yourself!”
She laughed and walked out.
I gasped for breath, my mind in turmoil.
I wanted to ask if she had been the one who killed Oliver, but I was too weak.
After I died, my soul floated above, watching helplessly as these despicable people took over my fortune and lived in luxury.
I refused to accept such an end. Just as I was about to be dragged into hell, I was sent back. They told me that if I failed to change my fate this time, I would vanish completely.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I saved Oscar.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I saved Oscar.
At noon, the streets were nearly empty.
