I was known all throughout high society as the perfect, obedient daughter. Suitors lined up at my door in droves, yet I insisted on marrying Grayson Thatcher, whose family fortune had crumbled, all because of a promise we made when we were young.

I thought we would be partners building a life together, but he fell deeply in love with his childhood sweetheart, a girl who spent her days running wild.

The night before our wedding, he went street racing with her and they both got arrested, causing him to miss the ceremony entirely. The scandal made it everywhere.

On New Year's Eve, he left me to organize the family banquet alone while he ran off with his childhood sweetheart to some crowded plaza. To see a different display of fireworks, they set fire to balloons people had released into the sky and triggered a massive blaze.

Once again, I exhausted every connection I had to get him out of the mess.

I cleaned up 999 of his reckless mistakes and kept the Thatcher family's business afloat, making sure he could live without a care in the world. I thought that eventually, he would at least remember some small part of what we meant to each other.

Yet when I fell critically ill and needed a heart transplant, he took the only available donor heart and gave it to his childhood sweetheart instead.

That was the first time I broke down and demanded answers.

He stared at me, cold and unmoved.

"You have the nerve to ask me that? If you hadn't forced yourself on me, I would've gotten together with Maeve years ago. You're as stiff as an old lady. How could you ever compare to someone like her? She's full of life.

"I've let you play Mrs. Thatcher for over a decade. I was more than generous. Maeve is going to be my wife now. When she dies, we'll be buried together. You won't even get that much."

I died consumed by bitterness and rage. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the matchmaking event.

I picked up the marriage proposal the Thatchers had sent and tore it to pieces. Then, I reached for the one from the wealthiest family in the room and smiled.

"Dad, if I have to get married anyway, I might as well marry the man with the most money and power."

"But you two had an arranged engagement since childhood. Besides, the Thatchers saved my life once. If we break off the engagement now when they're down on their luck, what will people think of me? What will they think of our family?"

I listened to Dad's troubled murmuring. The pain of death still lingered in my body. I rubbed my aching head, about to speak, when a loud voice suddenly blared through a megaphone outside.

"Calla Finley, your fiancé raped me. Are you going to do something about this or not?"

Dad's expression changed instantly.

I steadied myself. I did not need to guess who was making a scene at our door. It was Grayson Thatcher's beloved, Maeve Keller.

That familiar voice instantly pulled me back into the tangled relationships of my past life.

For the sake of repaying a debt and some careless promise I had made to Grayson as a child, I married him as planned after his family fell from grace. I became the perfect wife. I turned a deaf ear to his affairs and wild nights out. I managed both our home life and career, ensuring he lived in luxury and comfort.

In the end, all I got in return was his furious roar, blaming me for destroying his love. He watched me die from illness without flinching.

Now that I had gotten a second chance at life, I refused to make the same mistakes.

"Dad, don't worry. I'll handle this without giving anyone reason to gossip."

I had fully repaid his family's debt to us in my last life, though no one in this life knew that yet. I would make sure everyone knew exactly how shameless they were.

I stood and walked slowly toward the door. A small crowd had already gathered outside the villa.

Grayson was holding onto Maeve, coaxing her in a low voice, "Rape? We're just two people who love each other. Baby, stop making a scene. Be good and let's go home."

Maeve wore barely anything, practically draped in scraps of fabric. She pointed at the red marks on her skin and screamed hysterically, "You're about to get married, and you're still entangled with me. If that's not rape, what is? I'm getting justice today, one way or another.

"If Calla won't deal with this, I'll go to the police. Let's see where you rich people can hide your faces then."

The neighbors started whispering and pointing when they saw me step outside.

Grayson turned to me like I was his savior. He grabbed my hand and begged, "Look, Maeve's really upset. This will make both our families look bad. Why don't we postpone the wedding? I'll calm her down first, then we can set a new date.

"You're so understanding. You'll think of the bigger picture and agree to this, right?"

Even though I had heard these shameless words in my previous life, they still made me feel stifled and furious. He created this mess himself, yet he expected me to bear the consequences and compromise.

He even wanted to delay our engagement just to appease his mistress. It was absolutely absurd.

I might be obedient and considerate, but I was not a fool.

In my past life, I did not give in to Grayson's unreasonable demands. Instead, I suppressed the scandal and prepared to pay Maeve off to make her disappear. It was because I did not listen to him that Grayson felt humiliated.

He pretended to go along with it, but the night before our wedding, he deliberately went street racing with Maeve and got arrested, making sure everyone knew about it. That was the first time he tried to intimidate me. Over the next decade of marriage, there were countless more attempts just like it.

I took a deep breath, forcing down the discomfort in my body. I replied coolly, "Fine."

I did not tell him that the engagement would not be postponed. It would be cancelled.

Since he loved Maeve so much, in this life, I would grant them their star-crossed romance.

Seeing that I had agreed, Grayson finally showed a pleased expression. He came closer and whispered to me, "Don't worry. You're obedient, sensible, and the perfect match for my status. Only you are worthy of being my wife.

"Maeve comes from nothing and has a wild temper. She's only fit to be a mistress. She'll never be able to threaten your position as Mrs. Thatcher."

In my past life, he had said the exact same thing. Mom had also advised me that all men were like this, especially wealthy men. Expecting them to be faithful was impossible. Dad had women on the side too, but he knew his limits and always prioritized our family.

Hence, I endured it again and again. Like some traditional matriarch, I tolerated his endless parade of women, cleaned up his mess, and single-handedly built up the Thatcher family's business so that he had enough money to squander.

What I got in return were countless cold, lonely nights eating reheated leftovers by myself, birthdays that were never remembered, and hospital stays during illness without my other half by my side.

I had thought about divorce, but the moment that idea surfaced, Mom personally crushed it.

"If a man doesn't come home, it's because you're not doing enough. You're not being understanding enough. Don't worry. He's just young right now, so he likes those wild, crazy women out there. When he's older, he'll understand how important a good wife is."

I waited and endured. I never got those better days. Instead, I ended up with a terminal illness.

My obedience earned me his resentment, his complaints that I was boring, and the declaration that I did not even deserve to be buried beside him.

The qualities I took pride in became reasons for him to trample on me. The business I had worked so hard to build ended up benefiting the adulterous pair instead.

What a ridiculous life.

Grayson turned toward Maeve.

"Alright, babe. The engagement's postponed. Are you satisfied now? All these people are watching. Can we stop making a scene?"

However, Maeve had no intention of backing down. She stared at the bracelet around my wrist and pouted in dissatisfaction.

"But you're still going to marry her eventually. You think throwing me this scrap is enough? What am I, a beggar? I want that bracelet! Otherwise, I'm not dropping the rape charge. You'll end up in jail either way, and then you won't be able to get married at all!"

I raised an eyebrow, covered the bracelet with my other hand, and stepped back warily. "This is the only thing my grandmother left me."

Grayson sighed and pulled Maeve aside to comfort her for a while. She still refused to compromise, shouting loudly and drawing an even bigger crowd. His anger flared instantly, though not at Maeve. He turned on me instead.

"People can't come back from the dead. It's just a bracelet. Give it to her! Do you have to push Maeve to make a scene and embarrass both our families before you're happy?"

It was his mess, and Maeve was the one causing the scene. I had done absolutely nothing wrong. Yet he was trying to pin all the blame on me and force me to hand over my grandmother's keepsake.

Absolutely not.

When Grayson saw that I would not give it up, he reached out and grabbed it.

I had not expected him to resort to force in front of everyone. Before I could react, he yanked the bracelet off my wrist roughly. A sharp pain shot through my arm. When I looked up, I saw Grayson gently cradling Maeve's hand, carefully slipping the bracelet onto her wrist as if he was afraid of hurting her.

In my memory, he was always rough and reckless. Only with Maeve did he become tender and careful. That was what it looked like to truly love someone. He instinctively protected her and cherished her.

In my past life, even until my death, I had still been hoping that my obedience and understanding would earn me even a sliver of that love.

I shook my head to clear away those thoughts and moved forward to snatch the bracelet back. "Give me back what's mine!"

I had barely gotten close when Maeve pretended to twist her ankle. With a theatrical cry, she fell toward the ground, deliberately slamming the hand wearing the bracelet down hard.

The sharp sound of something shattering cut through the noise distinctly. The air went silent for a moment.

I stared at the bracelet that had been broken into three pieces. My heartbeat stopped.

My grandmother had raised me since I was little. Before she passed, she was most worried about me, so she gave me her most precious and valuable possession. Yet I had failed to protect it.

Maeve made an exaggerated show of shock, but her eyes glinted with cunning. "Oops, I broke it by accident. You won't blame me for that, will you, Calla?"

That provocative tone and those mocking eyes completely ignited the rage that had been building inside me. Thinking back on all the humiliation I had suffered at her hands in both my past and present lives, I could no longer maintain my composure.

I raised my hand and slapped her hard across the face.

The sharp sound rang out, and the entire scene fell into dead silence. Everyone's eyes turned to me. No one had expected that I, who had been taught from childhood to always be gentle and graceful, would publicly strike someone.

Grayson had not expected it either. He froze in place, staring at me blankly.

Seeing this, Maeve immediately became indignant. "He raped me, and now, his fiancée hits me too! I can't live like this. I might as well die!"

She clutched her injured cheek and moved as if to throw herself against the wall. She looked resolute, but her movements were slow and deliberate. Her eyes kept darting toward Grayson as she waited for his reaction.

The acting was terrible, but Grayson could not see through it at all. He rushed over anxiously to hold her and comfort her, promising to give her justice.

I bent down and picked up the broken pieces of the bracelet one by one. My finger was cut by a sharp edge, and bright red blood dripped onto the floor—as my heart had been for years.

Grayson did not notice the blood on the ground or the wound on my hand. He shoved me hard. "Calla Finley! You actually hit someone! Look at yourself. Where's the refined lady you're supposed to be? You're nothing but a shrew!

"Besides, Maeve was wearing it just fine. If you hadn't charged out and scared her into falling, the bracelet wouldn't have broken. Instead of reflecting on your own actions, you resorted to violence. You call yourself a socialite? Even a common woman has more sense than you!"

After ranting at me, Grayson scooped Maeve up in his arms and carried her toward my house.

The onlookers stared at me with varying expressions. Some pitied me, others looked gleeful, and a few just seemed entertained. The humiliation was unprecedented, as if I had been stripped naked for everyone to gawk at.

I clenched my fists. The shards from the bracelet dug deep into my flesh.

All my life, I had done everything perfectly, never displeasing anyone. I was always the one being praised and complimented.

Yet now, when I was simply defending my own rights, he made me out to be the unreasonable one!

…

Back inside the house, Grayson held an ice pack and gently pressed it against Maeve's face. His brows were deeply furrowed with worry, as if she had contracted some serious illness.

While tending to her, he shot me a venomous look.

"Look what you did. You've ruined her beautiful face. Aren't you going to apologize to her?"

My whole body trembled.

He truly pampered Maeve to the extreme. Maeve was slapped for provoking me, which was exactly what she deserved. Yet not only did Grayson humiliate me in public, but he was also forcing me to apologize.

Years ago, when I was six months pregnant and one of his drinking buddies kicked me and caused me to miscarry, he showed no sympathy. Instead, he blamed me for being incompetent and failing to protect his child.

What was more, before I had even finished recovering from the loss, he forced me to apologize to that friend. His reason was that the sight of all that blood had given the man nightmares for nights on end, so I owed him an apology.

I took a deep breath, pushing down the resentment in my chest. I gathered the bloodstained fragments without acknowledging either of them.

Maeve raised her eyebrows with exaggerated magnanimity, acting as if she were above such petty disputes. She said softly, "Forget it. It's all my fault anyway, right? After all, I broke the bracelet first, so I deserved to be hit."

She said it casually, but Grayson immediately frowned and scoffed. "Even if you did break it, you did nothing wrong. Wearing jewelry from dead people is morbid anyway. It's better that it broke. She had no right to hit you, no matter what.

"Calla, apologize right now. Otherwise, this wedding is off. Someone with no manners has no place in the Thatcher family!"

Maeve was thrilled at the prospect of Grayson calling off the engagement. Her eyes gleamed with cunning as she said, "Forget it, Grayson. You two have been engaged since childhood. If you break it off, it'll hurt your reputation.

"I just need her to apologize. That's all. But I'm not someone who accepts cheap gestures. A few empty words won't cut it. Unless… Calla, you agree to let me and Grayson have a wedding. No, wait. I want you to plan it yourself."

Maeve's brows lifted slightly, her eyes bright. Her bold, uninhibited demeanor was fatally attractive to Grayson, who had been raised under strict rules his whole life. His eyes were filled with affection as he cupped Maeve's face and smiled.

"Our engagement is only a verbal promise. I don't care about it at all. But you're so thoughtful, always considering what's best for me. I can't ignore that."

He turned to look at me, his gaze gradually turning cold. "Do as Maeve says. You'll still have the title of Mrs. Thatcher anyway, so you're not losing out. Maeve has been with me without any recognition or status. The least she deserves is a wedding."

As soon as he said that, the room erupted. Even Dad, who had been silent until now, changed his expression.

"Grayson Thatcher, even if your family did me a favor once, you can't bully my daughter like this. Making her plan a wedding for you and your mistress? Do you have no decency? I'm telling you, my daughter will never..."

Just as Dad was about to reveal that I had chosen someone else, I raised my hand to stop him.

"Dad, don't. I'll do it. Not only will I plan it, but I'll even make sure it's a grand, spectacular affair."