After Rebirth, I Broke Up With My Childhood Sweetheart and Became My Best Friend’s Aunt

The day of Reginald Harrington's birthday banquet, Amelia Harrington secretly met with Marcus Blackwell, while her fiancé, Edmund Harrington, had his own clandestine meeting with Lily Ashford. At the banquet, Edmund publicly broke off the engagement and introduced Lily as his true love. The attendees whispered among themselves, and Clara Blackwell, Amelia’s best friend, stood up for her. Everyone expected Amelia to plead or fight to salvage the engagement. Instead, she defended her friend and decisively agreed to the breakup, revealing her true "black lotus" nature.

---

“Today is your grandfather’s birthday, yet you dragged me into your room. Aren’t you afraid someone will hear us?”

“Afraid of what? My fiancé is in the next room, making even louder noises than we are.”

At first, it seemed unbelievable—but it was true. The sounds of heavy breathing and muffled moans seeped through the wall, enough to make anyone blush. Amelia curled her finger at the man before her, her voice dripping with seduction. “So, who’s better? You or him?”

Marcus Blackwell’s eyes were like a veil of mist, his thoughts unreadable. “Why don’t you try and find out?”

Before the words had fully settled in the air, Amelia stripped off her gown, pushed him onto the bed, and straddled him. Whatever noises came from the other room, she made sure to match them—if not outdo them.

Downstairs, the banquet was in full swing, with guests arriving one after another. Reginald Harrington greeted them warmly, unaware that the two people who were meant to announce their engagement were upstairs, entangled in their own twisted games. Just an hour ago, each had brought someone back to their room in secret, and now, they were locked in their own private scandals.

When Amelia was finally summoned downstairs, she had already changed into a strapless white dress. She looked pristine, as pure as a lotus untouched by mud. But no one knew that this was a black lotus—a flower that appeared clean but concealed a heart full of calculated malice.

As she stepped out of her room, she bumped into Edmund, her so-called fiancé. Neither spared the other a kind look as they silently made their way to the grand hall together.

Reginald’s face lit up as he saw them enter, and the guests couldn’t help but marvel. What a perfect couple they seemed, a match made in heaven. But then, Edmund opened his mouth, shattering the illusion.

“I want to break off the engagement,” he declared.

The room fell into a stunned silence. Reginald’s smile froze, replaced by an expression of disbelief.

“You foolish boy, do you even know what you’re saying?” he barked.

Edmund knew exactly what he was saying. He stepped aside and presented Lily Ashford, pulling her forward without a shred of concern for Amelia’s dignity. “This is the woman I want to marry,” he announced.

The silence in the room turned into a flurry of whispers. This engagement had been personally arranged by Reginald himself. To call it off on his seventieth birthday was not just a slap in Amelia’s face but a direct insult to the Harrington patriarch.

More baffling was the fact that Amelia and Edmund had grown up together. They had been childhood sweethearts, inseparable until just a few years ago. How had it come to this, with everything falling apart right before the engagement ceremony?

And Amelia? Everyone knew how much she adored Edmund. Surely, she wouldn’t agree to the breakup. Perhaps she’d cause a scene, maybe even threaten to harm herself out of heartbreak.

"Edmund’s being so heartless. Even if he doesn’t care about Amelia, he should at least respect the family,” one guest whispered.

“Exactly. Breaking off the engagement like this—what a disgrace,” another murmured.

As the whispers swirled, Lily suddenly spoke up, her voice soft and hesitant. “Edmund, let’s not do this. Amelia loves you so much. She’ll never agree to the breakup.” Her words seemed to drip with concern, but they only served to fan the flames.

“No, Lily. I don’t care what anyone says. You’re the one I want,” Edmund insisted, pulling her into his arms. He didn’t even glance at Reginald’s darkening expression as he reaffirmed his wish to break off the engagement.

Amelia hadn’t spoken a word yet, but Clara, her fiercely loyal friend, couldn’t hold back any longer. Furious, she aimed a kick at Lily, sending her stumbling to the floor.

Edmund was shocked by Clara’s audacity. “Clara Blackwell! How dare you act like this? Aren’t you the heir to the Blackwell family? Where’s your sense of decorum?”

Lily whimpered in pain, struggling to stand as Edmund rushed to her side. He glared at Clara. “You call her uncultured, yet you bring a mistress to your grandfather’s birthday? If anyone lacks class, it’s you!” Clara shot back.

Edmund’s face twisted in anger. “Don’t think I won’t hit you just because you’re the Blackwell heiress! Keep causing trouble, and I’ll make you regret it.”

Clara wasn’t one to back down. She’d been itching for a fight with him for years. If he wanted to throw punches, she was more than ready—her black belt in Taekwondo could use some action.

Just as Clara was about to make her move, Amelia stepped forward, shielding her friend. Her voice was calm but resolute. “Who said I’d never agree? Fine. I’ll call off the engagement.”

---

Reginald Harrington never imagined things would spiral out of control like this. Furious, he abruptly announced the banquet was over.

As the guests gradually left, Edmund Harrington knelt on the floor, enduring a storm of scolding from his grandfather. Reginald vehemently opposed the engagement being called off.

Edmund couldn’t understand why. After all, wasn’t Amelia just an adopted daughter of the Harringtons? How could she possibly be more important than his own flesh and blood?

Reginald, gripping his cane, berated him harshly, calling him ungrateful and irresponsible. "Amelia may not be born into this family, but I’ve treated her as my own granddaughter all these years," he declared. "And you, my so-called grandson, have done nothing but disappoint me time and time again!"

Reginald had always hoped Edmund’s interest in Amelia would lead to a solid union. The two had been engaged since high school, and with Amelia's late parents leaving behind a substantial inheritance, their marriage could have secured the Harrington family's position in the city for years to come.

But everything changed after Edmund graduated from college. His attitude toward Amelia shifted dramatically, and now, he had the audacity to propose ending the engagement—just so he could marry some colleague with no family background or connections.

Reginald grew angrier the more he thought about it. His sharp gaze turned to Lily Ashford, who stood outside the study, waiting in silence. "A woman who interferes in someone else’s relationship—what kind of decent girl does that make her?" he sneered.

Lily, however, remained unaffected by his words. She stood at the door, composed and patient.

Edmund couldn’t bear to see her insulted. "I pursued her," he shouted. "She’s done nothing wrong! If anyone’s to blame, it’s Amelia! She’s been clinging to me for years, suffocating me. I’m sick to death of her!"

His voice grew louder, his words more cutting. "If I had to spend my life with her, I’d lose my mind. If you don’t want the Harrington name to die out, you’ll let me end this engagement!"

Amelia, standing outside the room, listened to the conversation and found it laughable. Once, she had been his "little darling," but now that he had someone new, she was nothing but a nuisance in his eyes.

She thought of all the years she had wasted on him and could only compare it to having been bitten by a rabid dog. Calmly, she straightened her posture and stepped into the study.

"Grandfather," she said, her voice steady, "what I said earlier wasn’t just out of anger."

Reginald lowered his cane and sighed, his tone softening. "You’ve been wronged, child. Edmund must be under some kind of spell. This engagement was so hard to arrange; don’t let your emotions get the better of you."

Amelia smiled faintly and spoke in a soothing tone. "He’s already in love with someone else. Even if I married him, I wouldn’t be happy. Why not let them be together? It’s for the best."

Reginald frowned, but Amelia continued. "Men are like buses; there’s always another one coming. Honestly, I’ve already found someone I like better. Even if Edmund hadn’t brought this up, I would have."

Her words stunned everyone in the room. Edmund stared at her as if he had seen a ghost. The woman who had once clung to him like a shadow was now so calm and indifferent—it was as if she had become an entirely different person.

He felt a strange discomfort in his chest, but if calling off the engagement meant freedom, he wouldn’t complain. Still, her composed demeanor unsettled him.

Reginald, however, dismissed her words as a way to save face for the family. Though he felt some relief, he couldn’t hide his disappointment. After a moment of silence, he waved his hand dismissively.

"We’ll discuss this later. I’m tired. Everyone, leave."

"Understood," Amelia replied. She turned to leave the study and headed for the stairs.

Edmund, however, grabbed her arm, his grip firm. "What did you mean by 'someone better'? Who did you bring into your room today?"

"None of your business," she replied coolly.

He sneered, his tone dripping with disdain. "You really have no shame, do you? How low can you get?"

Amelia couldn’t help but laugh at his words. "You think I’m shameless? Compared to you, I’m practically a saint."

Their argument, loud and heated, caught the attention of the Harrington Manor staff. From the shadows, servants whispered among themselves.

"She’s like a completely different person lately," one murmured.

"Who wouldn’t be?" another added.

Because the truth was, Amelia Harrington wasn’t the same woman anymore. The old Amelia had died, and the one standing here now had been reborn.

---

In her past life, everything had unraveled so cruelly.

After becoming engaged to Edmund Harrington, Amelia had let him coax her into intimacy. She’d believed they were destined to marry—why resist? During college, they’d even lived together for four years, sharing a quiet, tender routine she’d mistaken for love.

But the moment graduation arrived, everything changed. Edmund became infatuated with Lily Ashford, a new office intern and his former classmate. He abruptly demanded to cancel their engagement, claiming they were “just like siblings.”

Reginald Harrington had erupted in fury at the time. “Since when do brothers and sisters live together for four years?” he’d thundered.

Back then, Amelia still loved Edmund. She couldn’t understand how something so solid could crumble overnight. Desperate for answers, she’d corner him whenever she could: “Why don’t you want me anymore?”

Each time, he’d respond with cold impatience. “Because you’re boring. That soft, sweet act of yours makes me sick.”

Reginald, unable to watch his granddaughter suffer, issued an ultimatum: if Edmund insisted on pursuing Lily, the entire Harrington fortune—including Amelia’s inheritance from her late parents—would be transferred solely to her as compensation.

Edmund had shrugged it off. “Keep it. I don’t care.”

His indifference enraged Reginald so deeply that he forced the two into marriage against Edmund’s will.

What followed was a nightmare.

Edmund carried on shamelessly with Lily while treating Amelia with open contempt. He believed Lily wanted nothing—no money, no status, no power—only his love. What he didn’t know was that Lily’s devotion was a carefully crafted lie, fueled by vengeance for her own parents’ deaths in a Harrington Construction cover-up.

When Amelia discovered the truth, she begged Edmund to end the affair. He accused her of jealousy.

Exhausted by the chaos, she began planning for divorce—until she discovered she was pregnant. Hoping the child might salvage what remained of their marriage, she clung to that fragile hope.

But Edmund saw her only as a threat to his happiness. During a violent argument, he shoved her down the stairs.

Lying in a pool of blood, writhing in agony, she longed for even a word of comfort. Instead, he dialed 911 and walked away without looking back.

As consciousness faded, she heard a doctor sigh in resignation. With her last breath, she tried to call Edmund one final time—only to hear him laughing breathlessly with Lily in the throes of passion.

That’s when the full truth crashed over her.

Reginald hadn’t forced the marriage out of kindness. He’d orchestrated it to seize control of the inheritance Amelia’s parents had left her. The entire Harrington family had been grooming her—a lonely orphan—for exploitation.

“I can’t believe that lovesick fool actually married me,” Edmund sneered over the phone. “Now all that money is mine. I’ll transfer fifty percent to your name tomorrow.”

In that moment, Amelia understood: the Harringtons had never cared for her. They’d only ever seen her as prey.

She cursed herself for not seeing it sooner. But it was too late.

With her dying breath, she made a vow: if given another chance, she would never fall for Edmund again. She would abandon the Harringtons to their ruin and protect every cent of her parents’ legacy.

The thought had barely formed when her eyes snapped open.

She was back—on the very night Edmund had first tried to take her innocence.

He gazed at her with the same practiced tenderness, fingers brushing her cheek as if she were still his devoted girl.

If not for the memory of betrayal seared into her soul, she might have fallen for it again.

But fate had granted her a second life.

This time, she wouldn’t let him touch even her fingertips.

Silence stretched between them. Finally, Edmund leaned closer, voice honeyed. “You don’t want to, baby?”

Amelia met his eyes without flinching.

“No,” she said clearly. “I don’t.”

---

Edmund never expected her to refuse him outright—after all, Amelia had always done whatever he asked.

He didn’t notice the icy glint in her eyes as he leaned in with practiced charm. “Amelia, I swear I’ll only ever love you. If I ever betray you, may I die a miserable death.”

“Just give it to me, okay?”

“Edmund,” she said quietly, “I’m not ready yet.”

The moment the words left her lips, she pressed record on her phone and walked out of the hotel suite.

She’d need that audio later—when he inevitably turned on her and denied everything.

Back at Harrington Manor, she packed her suitcase for her new job.

In her past life, they’d used her, betrayed her, and bled her dry. This time, she’d climb to the top using every penny and privilege the Harrington name offered—and she’d do it standing firmly over Edmund’s broken pride.

She hadn’t moved in with him during college this time around. Instead, she’d buried herself in finance textbooks, interned at top firms, and built real skills.

By graduation, her sharp mind and flawless performance earned Reginald Harrington’s trust. At twenty-two, she became the youngest design manager in Harrington Construction’s history.

Edmund, meanwhile, coasted through university with mediocre grades.

Right on schedule, he met Lily Ashford—the fiery, “humble” office intern whose parents had died in a cover-up tied to Harrington Construction. Just like before, he fell hard and fast.

Amelia watched it all unfold with detached calm. She even welcomed the day he finally approached her at Reginald’s birthday banquet to call off their engagement.

Last time, his rejection shattered her. Now, she agreed without hesitation.

To her surprise, Edmund balked.

When he tried to grab her arm, she snapped, “Good dogs don’t block the doorway.”

“Do you have to be so harsh?” he demanded.

“You’re cheating on me, and you expect kindness? Try pushing your luck again—I’ll slap you twice as hard.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it. She turned and walked upstairs without another word.

Watching her go, Edmund felt an unexpected pang.

He’d forgotten how she’d always been a thorn-covered rose—soft only to those who’d earned her trust. It had taken him years to melt her defenses last time.

Now…

He hesitated, wondering if he should follow her and apologize. After all, publicly dumping her at a family event was cruel—even for someone as cold as he’d become.

Just then, Lily appeared, slipping her arm through his with wounded eyes. “Edmund… if you feel bad for your sister, maybe we should just call it off.”

“I know we’ve only known each other two months. It’s nothing compared to your twenty-year bond.”

Her words cut deeper than any accusation. His guilt vanished, replaced by resolve. He pulled her close, voice tender. “Lily, don’t ever doubt me. You’re the only one I love. As for Amelia… I feel nothing for her anymore.”

Downstairs, wrapped in each other’s arms, they didn’t notice Amelia descending the grand staircase with her suitcase.

She knocked lightly on Reginald’s study door and announced her decision: she was leaving the Harrington estate.

Both men stared at her, stunned.

Reginald sighed heavily, scrambling for reasons to make her stay.

But Amelia stood firm. “I may have grown up under your roof, but we share no blood. Now that Edmund and Lily are engaged, wedding plans will move quickly. My presence will only create tension between them.”

“And most of all,” she added softly, “I don’t want you caught in the middle, Grandfather.”

---

At this point, Reginald Harrington had no choice but to let her go.

He knew Amelia’s nature all too well—gentle as spring water on the surface, yet once her mind was made up, not even a hundred oxen could drag her back.

In the end, he didn’t press her to stay. Instead, he signed over one of his private residences for her to live in.

In her past life, Amelia would have refused the gift out of humility and gratitude.

Now, she accepted it without hesitation—and took more.

She drove off in the most expensive car from the Harrington garage.

Edmund stood frozen on the front steps, stunned into silence.

Exhausted and frustrated, Reginald shot a cold glare at Lily Ashford, who still lingered awkwardly by the door. He snorted.

“If you think I’ll ever allow you to marry into this family, you’ll have to wait until I’m dead.”

“If you’ve got any sense, you’ll convince Edmund to win Amelia back.”

“Otherwise, I’ll throw you both out on your ears.”

Edmund barely registered the threat. He turned instead to comfort Lily, his voice soft.

“Grandfather’s just angry. Don’t worry—I’ll find a way to marry you.”

Amelia didn’t head to the villa Reginald had given her.

She went straight to Marcus Blackwell’s penthouse.

The moment she opened the door, he pulled her into his arms, nuzzling her neck with a playful grin. “How’d I do this morning?”

A flicker of warmth crossed Amelia’s eyes. “Not bad.”

“‘Not bad’? Is that a yes or a no?”

She studied his face—the sharp jawline, the calm intensity in his gray eyes, the disciplined elegance that masked a ruthless mind.

Despite their current intimacy, they’d only met three times.

The first encounter had been at a downtown bar, shortly after her rebirth.

Haunted by fears over her late parents’ inheritance—vast but vulnerable—she’d realized she couldn’t protect it alone. Passionate about fashion design, she had zero business acumen or financial savvy. Left unguarded, the fortune would inevitably be siphoned off by the Harringtons.

After weeks of research, she’d zeroed in on Marcus Blackwell: CEO of Blackwell Enterprises, hailed as a prodigy in corporate strategy, famously principled, and—crucially—immune to romantic distractions. Partnering with him would mean passive income with ironclad security.

But finding his contact information proved impossible. She dared not ask mutual friends; her social circle overlapped too heavily with Edmund’s. Any whisper might reach him before she was ready.

Frustrated, she’d invited Clara Blackwell—Marcus’s younger sister—for drinks and casually mentioned her plan to break off the engagement.

Clara had cheered. “About time! Let me set you up with someone better.”

She’d fired off texts and calls while Amelia waited.

Halfway through her second cocktail, with no guest in sight, Amelia teased, “Still trying to pawn off your unwanted old man on me?”

Clara shot back, “He’s not old—he just looks devastatingly mature. Wait and see—”

“Save your matchmaking,” Amelia interrupted gently, nudging her toward the waiting town car. “Your mom’s going to lock you out if you’re late again.”

Back at the bar for another drink, she found a stranger in her seat.

Tall, impeccably dressed, with sculpted features and narrow, arresting eyes fixed on her like a predator spotting prey.

Their gazes locked. Her throat went dry. For a heartbeat, her mind flooded with images far too vivid for polite company.

She cleared her throat, forcing composure. “Wrong seat. That’s mine—”

He smiled faintly. “Not wrong at all. I’m Clara’s uncle. And yes—I’m the ‘unwanted old man.’”

Caught red-handed insulting him, Amelia didn’t flinch. She tilted her head, lips curving.

“Well then… can I have you?”

---

He didn’t resist Amelia’s advances. She simply pulled him into the car without a word.

The moment she opened the door, she swung herself on top of him.

Her cheeks flushed faintly as she hurriedly undid his belt.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” he asked, voice cool and measured.

Amelia met his gaze, face burning but eyes steady. “Yes. I’m fucking you.”

He’d never been interested in women who threw themselves at him—except this one.

For her, he wouldn’t mind exerting a little extra effort.

After a breathless silence, she took him back to her modest apartment.

There, she acted out every fantasy that had flashed through her mind the first time she saw him.

When it was over, he lay panting beside her. “Aren’t you worried your boyfriend will find out?”

“He won’t be my boyfriend much longer,” she replied with a smirk. “Besides, wouldn’t it be even more thrilling if he did?”

Marcus froze for a beat—then pulled her close again without another word.

Gazing at the devastatingly handsome man beneath her, Amelia couldn’t help but admit Clara hadn’t lied.

Her uncle really was… impressively skilled.

At the time, she had no idea he was the very business prodigy she’d been searching for.

She only learned his real name—Marcus Blackwell—the next morning, when Clara dragged her out for lunch.

“So, did you actually meet my uncle last night?” Clara pressed.

Amelia looked down, guilt flickering across her face. *Met him? Slept with him.*

But she couldn’t say that aloud.

Just as she hesitated over how to respond, she spotted Edmund approaching with Lily in tow.

Clara scoffed under her breath, clearly unimpressed by Edmund’s choice. “What kind of decent man would you even introduce her to anyway?”

“I did!” Clara shot back. “My uncle is ten thousand times better than you!”

The group around them burst into laughter.

Friends who once called her “future sister-in-law” now turned on her with vicious glee.

They sneered that someone with Amelia’s temper could never be wanted by a Blackwell heir.

“And isn’t it common knowledge your so-called genius uncle doesn’t even like women?” one guest added mockingly.

“What kind of ‘best friend’ are you, setting Amelia up with someone like that?”

Clara rolled her eyes, refusing to dignify their gossip with an explanation.

Amelia didn’t even glance Edmund’s way. She grabbed Clara’s arm and strode out of the restaurant.

Edmund’s expression darkened at her indifference. He muttered something crude—how easy she was, how any man could climb into her bed.

Without hesitation, Amelia spun around and slapped him hard across the face.

“Get lost, you piece of trash.”

Stunned, Edmund stood frozen long after they’d disappeared from view.

In hindsight, his decision to bring Lily to Reginald’s birthday banquet—and publicly call off their engagement right there—was clearly meant to humiliate her.

But none of that mattered anymore.

Leaving scum like him behind meant nothing but good days ahead.

She saw Marcus again at Reginald’s birthday gala.

That time, she lured him into a private room…

and made sure her moans drowned out whatever pathetic sounds Edmund might’ve been making elsewhere.

And now, this was their third encounter.

She’d left the Harrington estate and gone straight to his penthouse.

Three meetings. Three times in bed.

And he was her best friend’s uncle—wasn’t that just a little too scandalous?

Lost in thought, she barely noticed Marcus watching her.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, voice laced with quiet reproach.

She met his sharp gray eyes and decided to cut through the tension.

“How about we take things a step further?”

“How?”

“Let’s talk about something useful.”

---

In the Blackwell Enterprises office, Amelia Harrington emptied every last dollar of her inheritance into the company. Without blinking, she signed the contract and instantly became the third-largest shareholder.

“That decisive? Aren’t you afraid of getting scammed?” Marcus Blackwell asked.

Amelia arched a brow with a faint smile. “Being scammed by you is still better than letting the Harringtons bleed me dry.”

He pulled her onto his lap. “So what’s your plan now?”

She blinked. “What plan?”

“You’re sleeping with me—but no strings attached?”

Now she understood. He was asking about their arrangement in bed.

“Are you serious?” she countered.

“Aren’t you?”

“I just want to have fun,” she said lightly.

Marcus stared at the petite woman before him—soft features, delicate frame—and found it hard to believe those words had just come out of her mouth. After all this maneuvering, had he become the one getting played?

He stayed silent. Amelia pressed him. “Can’t handle it?”

After a few seconds’ hesitation, he sucked in a sharp breath.

Noticing his expression darken, Amelia wondered if she’d gone too far and bruised the pride of this older man. She hesitated for three seconds, ready to soften her tone—

But before she could speak, he snatched her phone, typed in his number, and handed it back.

Then, out of nowhere, he said, “Who said I can’t? If you want to play, call me anytime.”

Stepping out of Blackwell Enterprises, Amelia felt lighter than air. Her parents’ estate was safe. Now she’d collect dividends every month without lifting a finger. It couldn’t get any better.

Meanwhile, Edmund Harrington’s life had descended into chaos.

Reginald Harrington kept cutting off his credit cards, trying to force him to break up with Lily Ashford through financial pressure. But Edmund refused. He went on a hunger strike in protest—and ended up hospitalized from starvation.

Reginald fumed, but he had no real choice. Edmund’s parents had died young, leaving him as the family’s only heir. No matter how loudly Reginald threatened to disown or starve him, he eventually gave in and approved their engagement.

With one condition…

---

Before the wedding, Lily Ashford demanded a prenuptial agreement from Edmund Harrington.

Not a single dollar of the Harrington fortune would be hers—not even a basic dowry.

Edmund thought the demand was outrageous.

Lily was an orphan, alone in the world after her parents’ deaths. Denying her even a modest settlement before marriage felt cruel.

Besides, he reasoned, how much could a young woman like her possibly spend? He’d happily let her enjoy his wealth.

Reginald Harrington was furious. His grandson’s infatuation had blinded him completely. In a rage, he locked Edmund in the manor and beat him for three days straight.

Yet Lily calmly insisted she didn’t want money—and signed the contract anyway.

Reginald scoffed and stormed off without another word.

Edmund couldn’t understand why she’d agree to such terms. He could’ve fought for her, secured her a real share.

Gazing at his bruised face, she told him plainly: “I’m with you for reasons that have nothing to do with money.”

He was moved to tears.

To prevent any last-minute complications, their engagement—originally scheduled two months out—was rushed forward and held the very next day.

The news spread like wildfire through high society.

No one believed Edmund Harrington would go to such extremes for a woman.

On the night of the engagement party, the elite gathered in full force. The ballroom buzzed with laughter and clinking glasses.

In a shadowed corner, Marcus Blackwell leaned close to Lily, his voice low.

“If you want to bring down the Harringtons, there’s no need to sacrifice yourself like this.”

“This is my fight, Marcus,” she replied coolly. “I know what I’m doing.”

He sighed but respected her choice.

He assumed her motives were purely vengeful—but he had no idea there was more beneath the surface.

She loved him.

And he loved Amelia Harrington.

From the start, Lily knew they belonged to different worlds. So she buried her feelings deep.

If love was impossible, revenge was non-negotiable.

Marrying Edmund would ease his suspicions—and open more doors to destroy the family that ruined her parents.

Back in the main hall, Amelia stood surrounded by snickering guests.

“Pathetic,” someone muttered. “Chasing him like a dog—and still got nothing.”

Clara Blackwell bristled, ready to leap to her friend’s defense—until her uncle yanked her back into her seat.

“Uncle! If you won’t help her, at least don’t stop me!” she hissed. “No wonder you’re still single!”

Marcus said nothing. He just held her down with a knowing smirk.

“You stepping in would only ruin her moment.”

Clara didn’t get it—until the massive screen above the stage flickered to life.

There, in grainy footage, was Edmund Harrington begging Amelia to sleep with him.

Amelia strode onstage, snatched the microphone, and addressed the stunned crowd:

“Next time you call someone a ‘dog,’ make sure you’ve got the right target.”

Clara finally understood.

Amelia wasn’t the helpless victim everyone assumed. She’d only seemed weak while blinded by love.

Silence fell over the room.

The video looped relentlessly—Edmund groveling, pleading, promising anything.

Humiliated, Edmund scrambled to shut it off, then turned to Lily with desperate eyes, seeking comfort.

To everyone’s surprise, Lily responded with gentle grace.

“I don’t care about his past,” she said softly. “What matters is us.”

Edmund melted, then shot Amelia a venomous glare.

“Of course she recorded it,” he sneered. “Typical manipulative stunt—trying to win me back.”

He wrapped an arm around Lily, voice swelling with false devotion.

“No matter what she does, I’ll never go back to her. I only love you, Lily.”

Amelia almost laughed.

Love away, fool.

When the Harrington empire crumbles, let’s see if you can still say those words with a straight face.

---

The engagement banquet proceeded without a hitch.

Everyone kept saying Edmund Harrington was lucky—after such public humiliation, his fiancée hadn’t even flinched.

“What’s there to be angry about? They never slept together,” one guest whispered.

“Besides,” another added, “she’s all alone in the world. If you’ve hooked a golden catch like him, you’d treat him like glass.”

“No way she’d risk throwing a tantrum right before the wedding.”

“True enough.”

Amelia Harrington couldn’t care less about their gossip. She barely touched her food before excusing herself to the restroom.

There, muffled voices drifted under the stall doors—hushed but unmistakable. They were talking about her parents’ deaths… and how the Harringtons might have been involved.

When she stepped out, her blood ran cold.

She left the banquet without looking back. That same night, she hired a sharp private investigator to dig into the accident that had claimed her parents’ lives.

When the report landed in her hands, she still couldn’t stop the tears.

In her past life, she’d only been used—her heart broken, her trust exploited for money and status.

Reborn, she’d thought she could face Reginald and Edmund with calm detachment.

But this—this changed everything.

Her parents hadn’t just died in a tragic construction collapse. They’d been erased. Silenced. Sacrificed to protect the Harrington name.

Rage coiled deep in her chest, raw and suffocating. After hours of pacing, sleepless and trembling, she finally picked up her phone.

If revenge was the only language justice understood…

Then she wouldn’t walk this path alone.

She dialed a number she hadn’t called in years.

“Let’s do it together.”