Lily shrank back into Victor’s arms.
In a small, defensive voice, she argued,
“I… I didn’t say anything wrong! Wouldn’t it be better if our whole family stayed together? Dad begged you for so long, and you still insist on getting divorced.”
“You never think about how I feel!”
I tugged at the corner of my mouth, my gaze falling on her with unmistakable mockery.
“Your father begged me not to divorce him because he cheated.”
“The fault is his. Divorce does him no favors at all.”
Just thinking about it made me want to laugh.
In my previous life, desperate to secure Lily’s custody as quickly as possible, I had made countless concessions during the asset division.
Victor had secretly plotted to take all the shares, leaving me with nothing but a hollow shell of a company.
This time, I wouldn’t be that foolish again.
Lily looked stunned by my words.
She lifted her head and stared at Victor in confusion, clearly not understanding what cheating meant.
When I exposed Victor’s true face in front of our daughter, his face flushed an ugly mix of red and black.
“How dare you say something like that to our daughter!” he barked.
“Do you have no shame at all?”
“If you have the courage to do it,” I shot back, “why shouldn’t I have the courage to say it?”
I looked at Lily, who was still struggling to process everything, and asked her the same question I had asked in my previous life.
“Even so, do you still oppose the divorce?”
“Do you still insist on staying with your father?”
My voice was calm. Cold. Final.
Lily was frightened by my tone and didn’t answer.
Victor tightened his grip on her hand.
In the next second, the hesitation on Lily’s face vanished—replaced by firm resolve.
“Yes.”
She truly was Victor’s daughter.
I forced down the ache in my chest and let out a self-mocking smile. Then I picked up my bag and turned to leave.
After leaving the lakeside villa, I returned to the apartment near my office.
The moment I stepped inside, my phone rang.
It was my mother.
She asked how the divorce proceedings had gone.
I told her the deal hadn’t been finalized.
“It didn’t?” she asked, surprised.
“Why? Was it Victor refusing again, or did Lily cause another scene?”
“Neither,” I replied.
“I want to draft a new divorce agreement.”
She hesitated.
“You’re not planning to give up the company just to get Lily’s custody, are you?” She sighed.
“It’s not that I dislike Lily—but her heart is entirely with the Ricci family.”
“Forcing her to stay by your side won’t do anyone any good.”
In my previous life, my mother had said something very similar.
Watching me sacrifice my own interests again and again for Lily, she had once pointed at me and scolded me outright.
She said I must have lost my mind—to hand over the wealth my father had built over a lifetime to an ungrateful, spoiled playboy.
She hadn’t approved of my marriage to Victor from the beginning.
He came from a completely different social class.
Later, when I nearly gave up the company for Lily’s sake, her anger only deepened.
More than once, she had demanded that I send Lily back.
“If you want a child, you can have another one.”
“If you don’t want to raise one yourself, you can adopt.”
“Lily has already been spoiled rotten by the Ricci family. She can’t be changed.”
Back then, I refused to listen.
Now—even without my mother’s advice—I had finally woken up.
I explained that no, the previous agreement had simply been drafted poorly.
In the new agreement, I wanted Victor to walk away with nothing.
My mother froze for a moment, then asked cautiously,
“And what if Lily doesn’t agree?”
I let out a cold laugh.
“Then she can go back to the Ricci family.”
In this new life, I intended to cherish only those who were worth cherishing.
After submitting the revised terms to my lawyer, I threw myself into work for several consecutive days.
Finally, on Saturday, I drove to an orphanage in a nearby town.
When I arrived, the director told me that the child I was looking for hadn’t been at the orphanage recently.
The little girl studied diligently.
She had been selected by her school to participate in a math competition.
The director pulled out an old photo album from a cabinet and handed me a photograph.
I lowered my head and looked at the short-haired girl in the picture.
She looked seven or eight years old.
Malnourished, her frame was thin—but her eyes were bright, full of life.
I raised my hand and gently brushed my fingertips over her small face.
In my previous life, when I was fifty and diagnosed with terminal liver cancer—bedridden, unable to move—it was this very girl who took care of me.
She was an orphan I had sponsored years ago.
Her name was Mia.
After seeing the news of my illness online, she had made a point to check in every day.
She’d bring me snacks, refill my water, and make sure I didn’t miss any of my medications.
She’d tidy up my apartment in her small, careful way, putting things back where they belonged.
When pain kept me awake at night, she’d sit quietly beside me, humming or telling little jokes until I could relax.
She even scraped together her savings to help cover some of my bills, insisting I shouldn’t worry about money.
She said that if it hadn’t been for my kindness back then, she would never have been able to continue her education.
So she wanted to repay me.
How ironic.
The daughter I had cherished as my entire world treated me like an enemy—conspired with others and drained me of everything I had.
And yet, a stranger—a little girl—fed me, bathed me, cared for me to the very end.
All because of a small, unintentional act of kindness.
When the director learned that I was her sponsor—and that I wanted to adopt her—she was overjoyed.
Mia was obedient. And she was smart.
If it weren’t for her being slightly older than most adoptive families preferred, many people would have wanted her.
“If you don’t mind her age,” the director said gently, “I can call you the moment she returns.”
“If the two of you get along, we can begin the adoption process right away.”
I nodded.
“I don’t mind.”
After we finalized the details, I drove back.
Before heading home, I stopped by the mall.
Before leaving the orphanage, I had asked the director for Mia’s clothing and shoe sizes.
I wanted to buy a few outfits in advance—so when she arrived, she wouldn’t have to wear hand-me-downs.
I assumed all little girls were the same.
So I bought what Lily used to like.
Dolls. Dresses. Shoes. Accessories.
I was about to leave when I unexpectedly ran into Lily.
She was holding Victor’s hand with one hand.
And with the other—A strange woman’s hand.
I glanced over once.
It was Victor’s mistress.Charlotte.
The three of them stood side by side, looking exactly like a family.
When they saw me, both Victor and Lily froze.
Their expressions tightened—as if they were afraid I might make a scene.
If this had been the old me, seeing him out with Lily and his mistress would’ve sent me into a rage.
But now, the Ricci family had nothing to do with me.
I gave them one indifferent look and walked straight past.
Just as I passed them, Victor grabbed my arm.
“Lily’s been thinking about you these past few days,” he said.“Why haven’t you come to pick her up?”
At that, I lowered my gaze to Lily.
She stood there with her lips pursed, peeking at me cautiously.
But the moment my eyes met hers, she turned her head away—hiding behind Charlotte.
I let out a cold laugh.
“This is what you call missing me?”
Victor fidgeted, clearly caught off guard.
“Come on… who raised you to mess with a kid like that?” he said, half-scolding, half-defensive.
“You’re grown. Are you seriously still mad at a little girl?”
“In the end, aren’t you still here buying gifts to make it up to her?”
His eyes flicked to the shopping bags in my hands, and he visibly relaxed.
He waved Lily over.
“Come on. Mommy bought you presents.”
“See if there’s anything you like.”
At the word “presents,” Lily’s eyes instantly lit up.
She walked over slowly, pretending to be reserved—yet her gaze kept darting toward the bags.
Then she snorted softly.
“Even if you bought me gifts, I won’t forgive you.”
“Unless you promise to stop talking about divorce,” she added arrogantly,
“and apologize to Dad and me.”
“Only then will I keep calling you Mom.”
I chuckled.
“And who told you these were for you?”
Lily froze.
For a brief moment, she couldn’t tell whether I was joking—or serious.
Ever since she was little, I had given her everything she wanted.
If she’d asked for a star from the sky, I would’ve found a way to hand it to her.
But today, I told her the things in my hands weren’t hers.
Confusion quickly turned into anger.
She stared at me wide-eyed.
Victor frowned deeply, clearly displeased.
“You’d better stop this right now.”
“Do you really need to upset a child just to feel satisfied?”
“I finally managed to cheer her up today,” he said impatiently.
“Since she’s in a good mood, you should apologize properly—with gifts.”
“Don’t make things harder for yourself.”
At that, Lily shouted too,
“I don’t want her gifts!”
“She already said they’re not for me!”
Victor laughed helplessly and bent down to her.
“Come on, princess. You’re her only precious daughter.”
“If not for you, who else would she buy dolls and little dresses for?”
“She’s just too proud to apologize.”
Hearing that, Lily’s expression softened.
She sneaked another glance at the shopping bags.
I didn’t know what she saw—
But suddenly, her eyes lit up.
Still, my indifferent expression made her hesitate.
Victor noticed too.
He pointed at a pink box near the top.
“Isn’t that the spinning music box you’ve been wanting?”
“The one that was sold out last time?”
“Your mom bought it especially to apologize to you.”
He gently pushed Lily toward me.
“Go on,” he coaxed.
“Say you forgive Mommy, and she’ll give you the music box.”
As he spoke, he shot me a meaningful look.
Lily glanced at him.
Then at me.
“…Fine.”
She pouted and walked up reluctantly.
“I’ll forgive you,” she said condescendingly,
“for the sake of the music box.”
Then, like a little adult, she added,
“But you can’t bring up divorce again.”
“And Aunt Charlotte is a very nice person.”
“In the future, you’re not allowed to make things difficult for her—or stop us from seeing her.”
“If you can do all that…”
She lifted her chin and looked straight at me.
“Then you can still be my mom.”
She stood there.
Waiting for my answer.