My best friend and I were both heartbroken on the same day, but unlike me, she insisted on dragging me into her twisted version of a "romantic ending" and dying together.

Ignoring my protests, she set fire to my house.

When she saw me burning alive, skin blistering and flesh charred, she panicked and ran.

I survived with severe burns and lay in the hospital for three long months.

The day I was finally discharged, I discovered she was marrying my wealthy ex-boyfriend.

When I confronted her, she brushed it off with a sweet smile: "Don't overthink. I married him to punish the scumbag and get revenge for you."

But her actions told another story.

She sold all the wedding jewelry and told her husband I had taken them to buy gifts for a boytoy.

She maxed out his credit cards, claiming it was to pay off my gambling debts.

When she got pregnant and slept with her husband's driver, she nearly bled to death—then told everyone I had gone to a hotel with a bunch of male models, and she miscarried while trying to "save" me.

In the end, her husband sold me off to the Golden Triangle.

There, they cut out my kidney and tortured me until I died in agony.

But when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day she had her affair and miscarriage.

——

Lianna always used me as her excuse whenever she met her lover.

She told her husband, Hubert, that I was the one calling her out—sometimes saying I'd been beaten by a wife for being a mistress and needed comfort, sometimes that I owed loan sharks and begged for help. She even said that I was being treated for a dirty disease and needed her by my side.

If Hubert hadn't once stormed into my house in my past life, spitting venom and condemning me for all those fabricated sins, I never would've known just how "colorful" my life had become in her lies.

And now, his number was flashing on my phone again, vibrating relentlessly.

The moment I picked up, his furious voice exploded in my ear.

"Celestine! It's the middle of the night—why are you keeping Lianna with you again?"

"I've tolerated you long enough! After we broke up, you wanted to ruin yourself, fine. But must you keep sucking the life out of Lianna? She's your best friend, not your mother!"

"She's married now, and pregnant. Can't you have some shame and stop bothering her every damn day? Do you even know how pathetic you are?"

"What is this, revenge because I dumped you? Are you trying to destroy my family? Lianna is pure and innocent—if you dare exploit her again, don't blame me for being ruthless! Send her back right now!"

His voice was so loud and venomous that my ears rang.

The truth was I hadn't had any contact with Lianna ever since she set me on fire.

But Hubert never believed that.

I received his calls almost daily.

At first, hearing his accusations, I actually thought Lianna was really punishing him on my behalf.

It wasn't until he barged into my home in a rage, beat me black and blue, stuffed me into a sack, and sold me to the Golden Triangle that I realized I had been nothing but a scapegoat.

Remembering the flames she lit, the slander she spread, and his merciless revenge—a surge of hatred burned in my chest.

'Hubert, this time, you'll see with your own eyes what your so-called "pure, good wife" really is.'

Curling my lips into a cold smile, I answered the call. "Lianna is busy right now—she's unclogging the sewer. She won't be back anytime soon."

Then my face hardened. Without waiting for his reply, I hung up and switched off my phone.

But only moments later, pounding fists rattled my door.

The lock had barely turned when a powerful force slammed it open, throwing me back.

Before I could react, several bodyguards pinned me to the ground.

And Hubert stormed inside, footsteps heavy and furious, tearing through my home in search of Lianna.

My small two-bedroom apartment had been turned upside down by his men.

Yet he still found nothing.

"Didn't you say Lianna was unclogging a sewer? Where is she?"

His face flushed red as he stormed up to me, voice booming with rage.

Seeing him like this, a wicked satisfaction curled in my chest.

Revenge tasted sweet.

I raised my brows, speaking slowly, almost lazily, "I only said she was unclogging a sewer. I never said it was in my house. Maybe she's unclogging one at your driver's place. Why don't you check there?"

Hubert's eyes went cold. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked hard.

"Drop the sarcasm," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I'll ask you one last time—where are you hiding Lianna?"

Lianna's whereabouts had always been a secret. I was nothing but her scapegoat—how could I possibly know?

Through gritted teeth, I answered, "She's a grown woman with hands and feet of her own. Why would I know where she goes? I'm not her mother!"

Not getting the answer he wanted, Hubert's eyes turned vicious. He released my hair only to strike me hard across the face, the blow leaving my head ringing. Rage flared through me—yet beneath it, an even greater anticipation stirred.

'You're angry already? You've seen nothing yet, Hubert. The worst is still waiting for you,' I muttered internally.

He loomed over me, striking my face again and again with his palm, as he sneered, "You think keeping your mouth shut means I can't deal with you?"

He reached into my pocket, pulled out my phone, and powered it on.

Holding it up to my face, he unlocked it with the facial scan, then scrolled straight into my contacts.

When he spotted my emergency contact, a cruel smile spread across his lips.

He dialed.

"Hello? What's wrong?"

On the other end, my husband, Blake, answered with his usual gentle voice.

I opened my mouth, desperate to speak—but one of the bodyguards clamped a hand over it, suffocating my words.

"You're Celestine's husband, right?"

Hubert's voice was cold, dripping with disdain.

"And who the hell are you?"

Hearing an unfamiliar man, Blake's tone sharpened, his calm was instantly replaced by unease.

Hubert met my eyes, mocking me as he replied, "I'm Celestine's ex. But don't worry—I'm married now. I've got no interest in her anymore."

There was a short silence, then Blake demanded, "Then why are you calling me with her phone?"

"No real reason. I just thought you should hear the truth about your lovely wife."

Hubert began his assault, every word a dagger meant to bury me alive.

"Do you know how she got those burn scars? She tried to set herself on fire when I dumped her and wanted to die with me. If my wife hadn't tried to save her, she'd already be ashes."

"When that failed, she threw herself at man after man, desperate for company."

"She's lived off my wife for years—sold her wedding jewelry to buy gifts for boytoys, gambled away her money, maxed out my credit cards, made my wife pay her debts."

"She even got caught playing mistress and was beaten by the man's real wife."

"Oh, and she was at the hospital recently, getting treatment for a dirty disease. If I were you, I'd go get tested."

"Tell me, doesn't it shame you to be married to a filthy woman like her? Don't you feel pathetic being cuckolded? If I were you, I'd be dead already."

Each word was venom, each sentence a blade, hacking at my dignity until nothing remained.

On the other end of the line, Blake fell into a long, chilling silence.

My heart twisted.

Since the day we married, our relationship had always been good...

Blake was always upright and kind, gentle and attentive to me.

He never once despised the burn scars on my body. Instead, he told me I was an angel who had survived the flames, and that for the rest of my life, he would shield me from the wind and rain.

With him, no matter how badly we argued, he never gave me the cold shoulder or lost his temper. He would always coax me patiently, again and again.

But this time... after hearing Hubert's lies, he said nothing. Not a word.

When Hubert hung up the call, triumph lit his face.

"Well? Still not going to tell me where Lianna is?"

The guard finally released his hand from my mouth.

I glared at Hubert, fury burning in my chest. "You've broken into my home, restrained me, assaulted me, and spouted lies. Every one of those things is against the law."

I wanted nothing more than to tear this fool apart.

At my defiance, his rage deepened. "Against the law?" He sneered. "Then let me show you what real breaking the law looks like!"

He barked an order at his men. "Smash her place to the ground!"

Obeying instantly, the bodyguards began to wreck everything in sight.

In minutes, my once neat little apartment became a wasteland of broken furniture and shattered glass. Nothing was left intact.

Grinding my teeth, I spat, "Hubert, with such blatant lawlessness, aren't you afraid of the law catching up with you?"

He laughed coldly, full of scorn. "The law? The law punishes leeches like you. You've bled Lianna dry for years—don't you know how much you've stolen from her? Everything in this place was bought with her money. I'm smashing my own things. What crime is that?"

His words rang with righteous fury, as if he weren't a criminal but a judge passing sentence on the guilty.

I checked the time. Less than thirty minutes until Lianna's miscarriage.

The real show was about to begin.

Forcing down my rage, I smiled faintly and drawled, "Why don't you wait a little longer? Your dear wife will be contacting you very soon."

My calmness only made him more frantic. His eyes burned with rage.

"Still stubborn? Fine! Today, I'll utterly destroy your reputation!"

"Take her out!"

The guards dragged me to the gate of the apartment complex.

The commotion quickly drew a crowd. Dozens of eyes turned on me, whispers swelling into a storm.

Hubert seized the opportunity, loudly broadcasting my so-called sins for everyone to hear.

And the crowd believed every word.

"This is disgusting. She's already at this age and still leeching off her pregnant best friend? That's basically murder!"

"Exactly! Her friend is just too kind. If it were me, I'd have kicked her out ages ago."

"Classic fake friend—pretending to care while scheming behind the scenes. My wife had one just like her, and drove her into debt and depression. Even now, she's still on antidepressants!"

"She's a vampire, that's what she is. First her family, then her friends, then her husband. Whoever meets her is cursed!"

"And she's filthy too—already married but still chasing after male models, playing mistress. Sharing a community with a tramp like her was just bad luck!"

Spittle and curses rained down, painting me as some vile, irredeemable villain.

Hubert looked down on me, his smirk full of provocation.

"Well? Still want to keep that hard mouth of yours?"

He thought he had me cornered. That I would crumble under the weight of shame.

Instead, I laughed coldly, lifting my chin in defiance.

"A dignified tycoon—and this is the best you can do?"

"What's a few neighbors cursing me out? Even if they spit until their throats dry, all I need to do is move somewhere else, and it's over."

"If you really want me ruined, Hubert, you should've called some internet influencers. Let them livestream it all. That way, maybe—just maybe—you could make me infamous across the entire country."