In my past life, love blinded me, turning me into a pitiful beggar pleading for even a single glance from Alan.

But after living it all again, I finally understood: love cannot be begged for, but dignity can.

Before hanging up, I said my final words: "Mrs Alan, this is my decision—and it’s final. I hope you will respect it. Whether you look for him or not is the Alan family’s affair. I will no longer be involved."

I gave her no chance to argue. The call ended, and her number was blocked immediately.

Peace, at last.

Back home, my father noticed my exhaustion, his eyes full of concern as he asked what was wrong.

I told him everything—only leaving out the part about my rebirth.

"Dad, I'm sorry," I said, hanging my head. "I might have let you down. The marriage alliance with the Alan family… it's over."

He was silent for a long moment before sighing softly. Reaching out, he patted my head, his gaze tender. "Silly child, what are you saying? All your father wants is your happiness. If that boy’s heart isn’t with you, then ending this marriage is for the best. A daughter of Ashley’s Group will have no shortage of suitors."

My eyes stung with warmth, and I buried myself in his arms.

Yes—how could I have been so foolish before? In that past life, I’d broken my family’s heart for a man who never loved me.

The next day, I gathered my resolve. With a project proposal drafted overnight, I walked into my father’s company.

It outlined a preliminary plan to pivot the family business from traditional manufacturing into the new energy sector—a more promising path I’d chosen for Ashley’s Group, guided by memories from my previous life.

As my father read through it, surprise and approval filled his eyes.

"Ashley," he said, "you’ve really grown up."

I smiled.

Yes, I had.

A life without Alan… turned out to be far less heartbreaking than I’d feared.

I’d thought my letting go would set everything right—that Alan and Joyce could live out their quiet, peaceful life in Clearwater Town.

But I had underestimated the Alan family’s reach, and Mrs Alan’s determination to find her son.

Three months later, a story that rocked the Capital City business circles shattered my peace.

—Alan, the long-missing heir of the Alan's Group, had been found and brought home.

In the accompanying photo, Alan stood stiffly in an ill-fitting designer suit, flanked by Mr. and Mrs Alan. His expression was numb, visibly resistant.

I closed the news page, feeling nothing.

It had come, after all.

Only this time, I was no longer a player in the game. Just an observer.

Those three months, I threw myself into work.

Drawing on memories from my past life and a clear vision of future trends, I helped my father secure several key projects. It was the first solid step in Ashley's Group’s shift into the new energy sector.

I cut my waist-length hair, swapped my wardrobe for sharp business attire, and spent my days shuttling between conference rooms and project sites. It was busy, but fulfilling.

People began to say the Ashley's Group heiress seemed like a different person—transformed from a starry-eyed romantic into a decisive, formidable businesswoman.

Only I knew I was simply reclaiming the life that should have been mine all along.

That evening, I was representing Ashley's Group at an important business gala.

One of the event’s hosts was Joseph's Group.

Joseph, the head of the company, was something of a legend in Capital City’s business world.

Five years my senior, he kept a low profile, yet his methods were sharp and decisive. In just a few years, he’d elevated his family’s enterprise to new heights.

In my past life, our paths never crossed.

I’d only glimpsed his cool, restrained profile occasionally in the financial news.

This time, thanks to our company’s transition, we’d begun doing business with Joseph's Group.

As a partner, I’d met with him a few times.

He was an excellent collaborator—meticulous, efficient, exceptionally perceptive.

“Ms Ashley. Alone?”

A cool voice sounded behind me. I turned to see Joseph in a dark suit.

He held a champagne flute, his gaze steady and deep as he watched me.

I smiled faintly. “Aren’t you the same, Mr Joseph?”

He raised a brow, stepping beside me. Together we looked out through the window at the night skyline.

“It seems we’re both the type who don’t care for socializing.”

I was about to reply when a stir came from the entrance.

I glanced over instinctively, and my body stilled.

Mr. and Mrs Alan were entering, with Alan at the center of their orbit, surrounded by admirers.

And right beside Alan, clinging close, stood a girl in a white dress who looked nervous and out of place.

Joyce.

She’d actually come to Capital City.

I pulled my gaze back and took a sip from my glass, masking the momentary slip in my composure.

Joseph beside me seemed to notice. “You know them?” he asked quietly.

“My ex-fiancé.”

My reply was flat.

Surprise flickered in Joseph’s eyes, then vanished. He didn’t press further.

I was grateful for that.

But sometimes, trouble finds you even when you don’t go looking for it.

Joseph and I were discussing collaboration details when a timid voice cut in.

“Excuse me… are you… Ashley?”

I turned. Joyce stood before me, hands nervously clutching her skirt, her eyes wide and frightened—like a startled deer. The very picture of pitiful innocence.

Alan stood behind her, brow furrowed, his gaze fixed on me with clear wariness and hostility.

As though I were some sort of villain, ready to pounce and hurt his precious girl at any moment.

I almost laughed out loud.

“Can I help you?” My tone was distant, politely cool.

Joyce bit her lip, eyes glistening. “Ashley, I know… it’s all my fault. If it weren’t for me, you and Alan wouldn’t have broken off your engagement. Please… don’t blame Alan. He just… he just loves me too much. If you have to blame anyone, blame me.”

It was a performance pitiful enough to melt stone.

Curious glances were already gathering around us.

I let out a cold laugh.