After my own sister caused my death, my ex-boyfriend married her and they had a daughter to remember me. They even took my parents to my grave, asking them to forgive my sister for her wrongdoings on my behalf. Really, who were they trying to insult here? I hovered above, laughing derisively. Then, I was reborn. Reborn at the Thanksgiving dinner between the Stone and Fox families.

I stared at the half-full glass of orange juice in my hand, a familiar voice bringing me back to reality. "It's Thanksgiving, why the long face? With all this food, why fight your sister for the turkey?" My mom's displeased expression brought a flood of memories rushing back.

"I’m just having my own share; how’s that stealing from her?" I looked at the plate in front of me, noticing my turkey serving had already been sneaked over to Isabella’s side by Peyton Fox. Naturally, since we were kids, I had to give up everything to my sister because of her heart condition. Anything good that caught her eye had to be handed over willingly. All the delicious and fun things were naturally reserved for her. As for the things she didn’t want, I couldn’t even go near them.

Each time, my sister would look at me with innocent, apologetic eyes, like a perfect white rose. Over time, I just chose silence and compromise, knowing well that complaining was pointless. I glanced around at the others. Keegan and Ruby Fox eyed me with disapproval. Peyton seemed like he wanted to say something. My dad frowned, his eyes filled with disapproval as they focused on me. Everyone adored the considerate Isabella.

At this moment, Peyton and I were no longer together. He had "finally realized his feelings" and confessed to Isabella. But Isabella claimed she wanted to consider my feelings and delayed her answer. So, despite my reluctance, I was coerced by my parents' persistent "encouragement" to attend this family gathering.

"It should be Genevieve's portion," Isabella quickly offered to return my dish. Ruby gently stopped her with a calm expression. "Genevieve, tonight’s dinner is hosted by Peyton. He should decide who gets what, don’t you think?" Every year, the Stone and Fox families took turns hosting the Thanksgiving dinner.

A brief smile vanished from Isabella’s face, replaced by one of awkward hesitation. Ruby patted her hand reassuringly. My mom, growing impatient, said, "Enough already. If you want turkey so much, buy your own!" Dad tugged at her sleeve. "Enough, enough, she knows better than this." He then turned to me. "Genevieve, you’re an adult now; you should know how to behave."

Keegan tried to lighten the mood by adding a forkful of mushrooms and greens to my plate. "It's Thanksgiving. Let’s all be happy. These mushrooms and greens are delicious, Genevieve, give them a try." I nodded, forcing a smile. "Thank you, Uncle Keegan."

I disliked greens; both Isabella and I did, but my parents loved them. To them, my preferences didn’t matter; anything Isabella disliked, I had to finish. Refusing them meant getting a lecture about "not wasting food." Yet, after once forcing down the greens and subsequently getting sick at the table, they finally stopped making me eat things I hated.

To seem fair, Ruby also added some vegetables to my plate. "Genevieve, if I was a bit harsh earlier, don't hold a grudge. But remember, you're grown up now, you can't act so willfully." I nodded and smiled again, discreetly glancing at my watch. An hour and a half remained of this ordeal.

Previously, I had suffered through dinner, full of resentment, only to end up paying the bill when everyone else’s phones mysteriously malfunctioned. Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.

I calculated the time, waiting patiently until the server came to our door. Clutching my stomach, I stood up, seizing the chance to excuse myself to the restroom. They didn’t suspect a thing, though Isabella pretended to show concern, asking if I was alright. I glanced at the half-eaten second serving of turkey on her plate, assuring her with a smile that I was fine and would be back shortly.

Having brought only my phone, leaving was a breeze. I headed straight for the restaurant entrance, where the car I had discreetly booked awaited. Once inside, I blocked all their contacts. Let Peyton's family handle it; it was his party after all.

Arriving at my parents' neighborhood, I asked the driver to wait and went straight for the study. After rummaging through drawers to retrieve my family registry booklet, I returned to the car and headed back to my apartment. I was glad I had some foresight in my previous life. Once my parents turned my room into Isabella’s study, I moved out and rented an apartment.

I still remembered the sting of seeing my belongings piled up carelessly in a tiny north-facing room. I felt cold all over, trembling with anger. I had argued my case numerous times, always losing. To them, as long as Isabella was comfortable, I didn’t matter. In my despair, I finally realized there was no place for me at home.

I opened a real estate website, locating the property I remembered from my previous life. I sent an inquiry to the contact listed. This time, I was much earlier. Hopefully, my dream home wouldn’t slip away this time.

On the day I was supposed to check out the house, I arrived at the meeting point on time to meet the owner and the real estate agent. The agent was already there and mentioned that the owner would arrive shortly. He seemed eager to seal the deal and kept emphasizing the house's advantages. While I wanted to finalize it quickly, I pretended to be indifferent to keep some room for negotiation. After all, saving money is always a smart move.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting. You must be Ms. Stone, right?” A pleasant and all too familiar voice reached my ears. I composed my expression and turned around, only to be met with surprise. Why did the homeowner look so much like my current boss, Kingsley Lynch? And today, of all days, I had called in sick...

Realizing that Kingsley and I knew each other, the agent became even more personable, probably feeling optimistic about closing the sale. I awkwardly greeted Kingsley, silently worrying that I might end up signing the deal today only to lose my job tomorrow.

Nonetheless, after seeing the house in person, I was convinced it was perfect, so I gathered the courage to express my interest despite Kingsley's friendly demeanor. To my surprise, Kingsley offered an additional 10% off the original price. This unexpected break left me too elated to worry as I signed the contract on the spot.

After the agent left, I quickly apologized to Kingsley. “I’m really sorry, boss. I didn’t mean to skip work. It’s just that this house is too good, the price was right, and I was afraid…”

Kingsley gave a gentle smile. “No worries, I took the day off too.” I couldn't help but think that being a big boss is a whole different game compared to us regular employees.

“By the way, Ms. Stone, it’s lunchtime. Want to grab a bite together?” Truthfully, I wasn’t thrilled about socializing with my boss outside of work, but feeling indebted, I forced myself to agree with a cheerful smile.

“Sure, just call me Genevieve.”

“Alright, but privately, don’t call me boss; call me Kingsley.”

I agreed to his suggestion, though it felt a bit awkward.

I initially thought that since Kingsley had given me such a generous discount, I should treat him to lunch. But the restaurant he chose was a well-known and expensive local spot, so I quietly swallowed my offer. As the food arrived, I couldn’t help but ask out of curiosity, “Um… Why did you give me that 10% discount?”

I still couldn’t quite bring myself to call him by his first name directly.

“Because you were straightforward,” Kingsley replied, pouring coffee into a cup. “I don't usually handle these buying and selling matters. The last time I did, it left a lasting impression.”

Rarely handles it himself? Seems his assets are more extensive than I thought.

“Feeling more reassured now?” Kingsley asked, smiling warmly as he served me a piece of the signature dish with shared utensils.

After the meal, he offered me a ride, but I was too embarrassed to impose further. Just as I was about to politely decline, I heard familiar voices at the entrance.

“Genevieve!” “Genny!” At the sound of those voices, I frowned. I hadn’t planned on avoiding them forever, but seeing Peyton and Isabella again so soon felt rather inconvenient.

Isabella hurried over and grabbed my hand. “Genny, do you know how worried we’ve been these past few days? You blocked us, and we couldn’t reach you.” She glanced at Kingsley. “Even if our family said something that day, you shouldn’t have just walked out without a word.”

“It was just a single dish you didn’t get to eat. Did you really have to make such a big deal out of it? You weren’t like this before.”

Several restaurant staff members were observing us now. Peyton immediately hushed; as a well-known pianist, both domestically and internationally, he had a fair number of fans. He often disguised himself to avoid being recognized and chose quieter dining spots.

He lowered his voice and said, “Come with us to the private room!”

I felt a pang of regret at how accommodating I must have been for him to expect me to jump at his call. I ignored him and turned to Kingsley, “Boss, shall we go?”

Kingsley nodded, hesitated for a moment, then followed my lead. Unexpectedly, the two of them abandoned their meal and followed us to a nearby underground parking lot.

With fewer people around, Peyton grew bolder and grabbed my hand directly. I frowned and snapped, “What do you think you’re doing?!”

Peyton’s face darkened, “Taking you to see Uncle Stone.”

Isabella tried to block Kingsley. “You’re Genny’s boss? Please don’t interfere; this is strictly between her and us…”

“If it’s between you and her, doesn’t she have a say in whether or not I can intervene?” Kingsley replied, stepping around Isabella to approach me.

Peyton clung tightly to my hand. “Peyton, you’re a pianist, right? If you’re not keen on playing anymore, I can help with that.” I raised my phone, pointing it at the hand holding mine.

Peyton genuinely feared I would hurt his hand. Panic flickered in his eyes, and he instinctively let go, staring at me in disbelief. He must have been quite stunned since, during our relationship, I had valued his hands more than he did. Any bumps or bruises, and I would be beside myself with worry.

In retrospect, how foolish I had been. I didn’t want to spend any more time with them, so I asked Kingsley, “Could you drive me home, uh… Kingsley.”

Kingsley chuckled, “I’m only in my early thirties, not old yet—come on.” My face flushed, and I quickly followed him.

Isabella tried to stop me. “Genny, don’t be like this. Do you know what happened after you left that day?”

What, that they couldn’t pay the bill? As expected, Isabella said, “There was an unexpected incident that day; Peyton and I couldn’t use our phones, and our parents don’t understand electronic payments…”

I smiled wryly, “What’s that got to do with me? I barely ate anything that day. Don’t you think you should be the one to settle the bill?”

Isabella bit her lip, “I… my phone had died.” “Genevieve,” Kingsley called, opening the door of a Bentley Continental, “Hop in.”

“Sure thing!” I eagerly complied, moving to open the opposite door and sliding into the seat. Once Kingsley was seated behind the wheel, he started the car and steered toward the exit.

In the rearview mirror, I saw Peyton and Isabella trying to chase us down, but then Isabella clutched her chest and doubled over, with Peyton quickly supporting her.

Was it a heart attack? Real or fake, who knows. My dear sister may have a weak heart, but I don’t believe this trivial matter could provoke her.

Kingsley dropped me off at the entrance to the apartment complex, and I waved goodbye.

"Thanks for everything today. I appreciate it."

"Don't mention it. We all have our own challenges."

I unbuckled my seatbelt and reached for the door handle.

"Hold on a second."

Slightly taken aback, I paused as he requested.

"Actually, I have a favor to ask. I meant to call you tonight, but it's quite unexpected that you're the buyer of the house."

I knew there’s often a catch when someone offers help. Since I've benefited from his assistance, I might as well hear what he has to say.

It turned out he wanted me to work overtime. Initially, I was reluctant, but considering I had missed work before, and he approached me warmly with a generous overtime pay, I agreed. He also mentioned that his special assistant had quit, and he was keeping that position open for me, which made me even more delighted.

As I was about to leave, I suddenly remembered what Kingsley called me when he first got into the car.

Did he call me "Ginny"?

No, no, don’t dwell on it. Right now, my top priority is focusing on my career. If love isn’t in the cards, at least I have work to rely on.

Once the house deal is finalized, I plan to take some time off to register my move. Kingsley kindly granted me half a day for this, and reminded me to stay safe. With a boss so considerate, I silently counted my blessings.

As I got closer to the police station, my phone rang with a call from an unknown number.

After the incident with those two people earlier, I hadn't been bothered by them again, so I’d let my guard down.

So when I heard my father's voice through the phone, I was startled.

He was simply inviting me to a family dinner on Saturday night, gently reminding me, "Family shouldn't hold grudges for long."

Suddenly, it dawned on me that they wanted to use me as a scapegoat.

In my previous experience, a friend of my father's borrowed his car for some errands. I advised my father against it because this friend was notoriously unreliable. However, my father couldn’t refuse, and my mother reprimanded me for meddling in adult affairs. Isabella chimed in, saying parents naturally knew best, and my mother praised her for being mature.

Unfortunately, soon after Thanksgiving, that friend was involved in a drunk driving accident and fled. According to the law, my father wasn't legally liable. But because the friend’s license had expired and he couldn’t compensate the victims, my father, as the car’s owner, was forced to pay tens of thousands in damages.

My parents were financially stable, with substantial savings and investments. However, they planned to buy a wedding house for Isabella and had already found one they liked. If they paid the damages first, they'd lose the house.

So, they targeted the money I’d saved over the years, knowing how to manipulate me using familial bonds.

"After all we’ve done for you, won’t you help us out in this emergency?"

"Genevieve, this house is a real find, and it would be a shame to miss out. I made a mistake earlier; could you help your father this time?"

I saw the pride in Isabella’s eyes and refused to give in.

Isabella, with a concerned tone, interjected, "Buying a house isn't urgent, and I might not even marry in the next couple of years. Besides, considering my health..."

Do my parents even remember that I'm only two years younger than Isabella?

"Don't worry," my mother said with unusual gentleness. "Leigh is a good man; he won't mind..." Realizing Peyton was my ex-boyfriend, she quickly finished, "Anyway, that’s not your concern."

She then turned to me and, with rare patience, said, "I know you’ve felt we favored your sister, but given her health, it’s natural we are more attentive towards her. But we love both of you equally."

I was so desperate for that illusory familial love that, in the end, I surrendered my hard-earned savings under my parents' combined pressure and Isabella's performance.

The past is truly painful to recall.

I wanted no further contact with them, but to ensure they lose hope completely, I accepted my father’s dinner invitation.

They booked the same restaurant where we had Thanksgiving last time. When I entered the private room, they were already waiting.

Upon seeing me, my mother pressed the service button to bring out the dishes and lightly chided me, "We've ordered all your favorites today. Eat up!"

She seemed to think I’d sever ties over a meal.

Isabella wore a calm expression, as if the previous incident hadn't happened, casually asking if Kingsley was my boyfriend.

My father was surprised, saying, "You have a boyfriend?"

"No," I replied casually, "He's my boss. Didn't I say that in front of Isabella before?"

Isabella softly smiled, saying, "Your boss seems nice. That dining place isn't cheap, and your salary might be a bit tight for it."

I agreed, "Absolutely. I'm strapped for cash after buying a house and have depleted my savings."

"What?!"

The shock on their faces brought me great satisfaction.