When news of my arranged fiancee's death arrived, I didn't cry or make a scene. Instead, I quickly reclaimed her shares and had the death certificate issued.

I did it because I've been reborn.

In my past life, Dad was worried that women would eye my fortune as the heir to the wealthiest family. So, he arranged for me to marry one of three women he personally picked.

I chose the most outstanding one, Monica Harris, and married her. However, just three days after our wedding, she died suddenly.

Heartbroken, I was persuaded by the remaining two women to give up on marriage and remain single for life.

At 80 years old, when I returned to our special place in Sunmere Valley to reminisce, I saw Monica. She should have been dead for 60 years!

She stood beside Liam Rogers, my driver who'd gone missing decades ago, surrounded by their children and grandchildren, living a picture-perfect life.

I realized I'd been deceived my entire life. The shock sent my blood pressure soaring, and I died of a stroke on the spot.

When I opened my eyes again, I was transported back to the day I died.

This time, I'm going to find out exactly how someone who's supposedly dead keeps on living.

"Orlando, Monica spent her entire short life by your side. She even climbed that mountain in the rain to conduct field research for you. Now that she's gone, you must never remarry, or Monica will be heartbroken."

"Oh, and Monica's shares should be transferred to the two of us. We'll work together with you to protect everything Monica left behind."

Hearing those familiar voices, I sat bolt upright in bed. I had been reborn on the very day Monica faked her death and ran away with her lover!

"Where is Liam Rogers?" I demanded.

At my questioning, the two women—Clarissa Harris and Jocelyn Harris—froze.

"Monica just died, and you're more concerned about some driver? Are we really worth so little to you?" they accused.

Watching their faces twist in anger, I chuckled instead of panicking. "If Monica's dead, then I'm reclaiming all the shares transferred to her."

Then, I turned to my assistant, Eric James, and ordered, "Eric, come with me to the courthouse. We're removing her legal status and filing the death certificate."

Eric rushed to follow, while Clarissa and Jocelyn stood there, stunned.

They shouted, "Orlando, she just passed, and you're already this coldhearted? Shouldn't we get a share of what she left behind?"

Seeing their bloodshot eyes, I didn't slow my pace one bit. In my last life, when I heard Monica had died, I cried until I passed out and swore to stay loyal to her forever. As for her shares, I handed them over to Clarissa and Jocelyn under their subtle suggestions.

However, I knew something was wrong when I saw Monica in Sunmere Valley with our long-lost driver Liam, living happily as a family.

I had my people urgently audit the accounts and discovered that these two women had been using the shares I gave them to send Monica five million dollars monthly in living expenses, allowing her to live luxuriously abroad with Liam.

I had been played for a fool in my previous life, but not this time. This time, her "death" was the perfect opportunity.

The car had just arrived at the courthouse when news came back from the company that Monica's 30% stake had been completely recovered and was now mine. I nodded with satisfaction and handed the documents to the clerk.

"These are all my late wife Monica's documents. Please help me process her death certificate."

The clerk glanced at Monica's photo with a twinge of sympathy. "She was young, graduated from a prestigious university, and married into the Bryant family, too. Such a shame..."

She efficiently entered the information and pulled out her official stamp to seal the documents. Just then, Clarissa and Jocelyn burst in.

"Stop! Don't stamp it!" Sweat was dripping down their foreheads as they rushed in.

For a second, my heart clenched. I did choose Monica as my wife, but I had never treated these two women unfairly. Except for the shares, they had everything Monica had.

Yet, they had conspired to deceive me from the very beginning, fooling me for a full 60 years. While they were transferring money to Monica so she could take good care of Liam abroad, I was constantly investing in them, hoping they would live good lives.

While they soothed their longings with photos and video calls, I, the richest man in our country, was cooking and preparing meals for them. While they used fake business trips as excuses to visit Monica, I was secretly acquiring their favorite beauty brands to surprise them.

I treated them as family, but they played me for a fool. Now, it was time to show them clearly that without the Bryant family propping them up, they were nothing more than two orphans I rescued from the foster system.

"Clarissa, Jocelyn, when you speak to me, use respectful language," I commanded coldly.

Clarissa's mouth gaped open, her eyes filled with fury. "We always treated you like family. What gives you the right to order us around like this?"

Jocelyn scowled. "Orlando, what's wrong with you today? Is Monica's death hitting you too hard?"

A cold smile tugged at my lips as I stripped away the last bit of gentleness and stepped back into the role of the Bryant heir. "Do I owe you an explanation for how I feel?"

The look on their faces was pure disbelief. Fingernails digging into their palms, they finally lowered their heads in defeat.

"Yes, Mr. Bryant, we just heard the news of Monica's death and got emotional for a moment..."

I was not interested in hearing their excuses and waved my hand dismissively. "Proceed with the stamp."

To pull off her vanishing act, Monica had even secured an official death certificate from the hospital. The staff verified everything and stamped the document as I'd instructed without delay.

"Mr. Bryant, I'm sorry for your loss. Here is your wife's death certificate."

I gave a quiet nod and casually tucked the paper into my bag. I had only taken a few steps when Clarissa's phone started buzzing like crazy. She glanced at me nervously and then stepped into a corner to answer it.

Though she tried to keep her voice down, I still caught bits of the conversation.

"How was I supposed to know Orlando would be so heartless?"

"Your ID got flagged in the system, and now you're stuck at the gate? You can't even board the flight?"

"Just calm down. We'll figure it out. Take care of Liam. Make sure he's not upset."

Jocelyn and Clarissa both looked visibly shaken. After the call, they marched up to me with clenched fists.

Just as they opened their mouths, I said first, "Put out a public statement that I've lost my wife and am now accepting applications for a new one."

Their eyes went red with fury.

"Orlando, Monica just died, and you're already trying to remarry someone else? She's going to be furious if she ever finds out! You may come from money, but even our family's driver has more character than you. You think anyone out there would actually want to marry you besides us?"

I suppressed the disgust rising in my chest and looked coldly at the two enraged women. "What I say goes—do it immediately!"

Clarissa and Jocelyn exchanged glances, both filled with disdain. "If you think you can use this method to pressure us into marrying you, that's just pathetic. To us, even Liam is worth more than you! But sure, go ahead and make your announcement. Don't come crawling back to us later."

Dad found out about this and immediately called me home. Clarissa and Jocelyn tried to follow, but I raised my hand to stop them.

"Whatever happens in the Bryant family is none of your business."

Both of them were left humiliated once again and stormed off in frustration.

...

When I arrived, Dad let out a long sigh and asked, "Orlando, you loved Monica so deeply back then. Are you sure you want to take this step?"

When I nodded, he pulled out an envelope from his desk. "If you're serious, then I actually have someone in mind."

I agreed without looking at it. "If she's someone you approve of, then she's good enough for me."

Dad was pleasantly surprised by how decisive I was. A smile broke across his weary face for the first time, and he said he would get Keira Webber to return as soon as possible to be my right-hand woman.

The moment I heard that name, my heart skipped a beat. I could not believe that the person Dad had chosen was actually Keira.

Dad said Keira had urgent matters to handle but could return within a week at the earliest. I suppressed my excitement and decided to give myself a proper break, spending the week at home recovering.

Clarissa and Jocelyn never came around, and whatever schemes they were brewing, I couldn't care less. I was just enjoying the peace.

Finally, the day came when I received news of Keira's return to the country. Just as I was about to rush to the airport, I saw my supposedly dead wife, Monica, standing stiffly at the villa's entrance. She was no longer wearing the designer clothes I bought her. Instead, she had on a cheap T-shirt from a roadside stall.

The stunning woman I married had now blended into the crowd, dull and ordinary.

Beside her stood Liam, looking pitiful, while Clarissa and Jocelyn hovered around, trying to comfort him.

What a dramatic act of resurrection from the dead. Since they couldn't leave the country, they came crawling back in shame.

I took a deep breath, stepped forward, and asked coldly, "Monica, you're alive?"

Before Monica could speak, Liam jumped in front of her. "Mr. Bryant, what's with your tone? She's your wife—do you really wish she were dead?"

I raised a brow at the man who had lived lavishly off my money in my last life. "And who the hell are you to speak to me like that?"

Realizing he'd gone too far, Liam lowered his head.

Monica instantly stood between us. "This man saved my life. Who do you think you are, talking to my savior like that?"

Clarissa and Jocelyn immediately jumped in, talking over each other. They claimed Monica had fallen down a cliff while hiking for my project. She survived but hit her head on a rock and lost her memory.

Then, they said Liam just happened to pass by and rescue her. He was no longer the Bryant family's driver, they added—he was the man who saved my wife and should be treated as a hero by our entire family.

Once they finished that ridiculous story, he smugly shoved a backpack into Monica's arms and looked straight at me.

"I'm exhausted. Mr. Bryant, can you please arrange a room for my lifesaver to rest?"

Monica clung protectively to him and started heading toward the house. However, I snapped my fingers, and Alfie Thorne, the butler, closed the front door right in their faces.

Monica turned, glaring at me. "They said you're my husband. If that's true, then my savior is your savior. How can you be so disrespectful?"

I chuckled softly at her convincing performance. If I hadn't been reborn, I probably would have treated Liam as an honored guest!

"Monica, yes, you were my wife. But in the Bryant family, I'm the only one in charge."

"Drive me to the airport right now. That's an order."

Monica's eyes burned with fury, but Liam gently tugged on her sleeve and slightly shook his head. After a long silence, she finally swallowed her pride, bent down, and personally opened the passenger-side door.

Liam stepped in without hesitation. "Sorry, Mr. Bryant. Monica just regained her memory, and as the one who saved her life, I'm really worried about her condition. As the Bryant heir, I'm sure you won't mind, right?"

Monica didn't look at me once. She buckled Liam's seatbelt, opened the driver's door, and muttered,

"If you're coming, get in."

At the sound of Monica's cold voice, Liam's lips curled up ever so slightly.

I let out a short laugh and slid into the back seat. These two thought they were putting on a show of power, but they had no idea that I was headed to the airport to pick up my new wife.

Just thinking about Keira made me sigh.

In my last life, I swore I'd stay faithful to Monica. So Keira never married, never had a status, and spent her whole life quietly taking care of me. And now, in this lifetime, after all the twists and turns, she turned out to be Dad's chosen match for me.

I felt an unexpected wave of nerves. Just then, the car suddenly jolted violently, followed by Monica's panicked scream as she frantically spun the steering wheel. The left side, where she and I sat, was rammed into an out-of-control truck.

Sharp pain shot through me, yet Monica's first words were asking if Liam was hurt.

Liam had been sitting in the front passenger seat—the safest place. He wasn't in danger at all!

I tried to call for help, but my phone had been thrown somewhere during the impact. Through the pain, I looked down and saw my thigh wedged under the crushed seat. A gash had split open an artery, and my blood and life were draining fast.

My vision blurred from the blood loss, so I pressed my hand over the wound and silently prayed for the paramedics to get there quickly.

However, when the rescue team arrived, Monica stuck her head out the car window and shouted desperately, "The person in the back seat isn't injured—don't worry about him. Save the passenger first!"

My hand reaching for help froze as Monica's words stabbed into my heart like a knife. She knew my life was in danger, and she didn't even bother pretending anymore.

In the passenger seat, Liam kept crying about how much pain he was in, demanding the police break his door open first. Monica was so anxious that she was crying, ignoring her own injured arm to hold Liam tightly.

Seeing this scene, the police went around to the back, forcefully shattered the window, and safely rescued me.

Hearing Monica's frantic scolding, they remained expressionless. "You can shout and yell, which proves your lives aren't in danger. I know you're anxious to save your lover, but we can't let a seriously injured person bleed to death in the back seat!"

Even strangers could clearly see their relationship. I couldn't believe I had trusted Monica so blindly in my past life.

How had I missed all the signs?

...

When I woke up again, I was in a hospital bed. Clarissa and Jocelyn were whispering at my bedside.

"Mr. Bryant Senior doesn't know about this yet. If he finds out Monica got into a wreck with Orlando in the car, we're screwed."

"Relax. Monica is donating blood to Liam right now. Once Orlando wakes up, we'll tell Mr. Bryant Senior he was the one driving. That way, we not only get away clean, but we can blackmail them for enough cash to cover Liam's study abroad expenses."

My whole body ached, but nothing hurt more than my heart.

Just then, Monica rushed into the hospital room. "Is he still unconscious? Quick, give him anesthesia now and transplant the skin from his face to Liam."

Clarissa and Jocelyn were shocked. "What happened to Liam? Why does he need a skin transplant?"

Monica replied, "He's in the ER, but I didn't get the details. I only heard him crying that his face was ruined and he needed new skin.

"If it's for Liam, then we move now. I've practiced forging Orlando's signature before. I'll sign the release form. Here's the sedative. You two, get him to drink it."

Their words chilled me to the bone. I snapped my eyes open and reached for the nurse call button, but Monica was faster. She lunged forward and pinned my hand down, her face twisted with malice.

"Orlando, Liam cares about his appearance more than anything. You have to help him."

Clarissa quickly scrawled my name on the form while Jocelyn grabbed a glass of milk laced with sedatives and forced it toward my mouth.

"Why did you have to wake up now, Orlando?"

"Would it really be so bad to just be Liam's donor?"

I wanted to struggle, but my whole body was injured and covered in casts—I couldn't move at all. The three of them looked at me coldly, forcing me to drink the sedative and covering my mouth to prevent me from screaming, waiting for their opportunity.

My head grew heavier, and my vision began to fade.

Suddenly, the door to the hospital room burst open with a loud, thunderous bang.