After My Sacrifice, My Fiance Returned Reborn

For ten years, I risked my life for Jaxon Aldridge.

And the moment he regained control of the Aldridge family, he threw me into prison, making me take the fall for him without a second thought.

I had once trudged through snowstorms to heal his shattered legs, carried him through a storm of bullets, and stayed up countless nights, nursing him through every fever and wound.

After I was released, he held the woman he truly loved in his arms and looked at me with cold detachment.

"Didn’t you always say you’d do anything for me?"

"Then marry a man in a coma for Arabelle’s sake."

Everyone mocked me for wasting a decade of my life on him.

But none of them knew. My ten years of silent endurance were never for him.

They were for the one I truly loved, my fiancé, the one I was determined to bring back from the brink of death.

Outside a quiet chapel, I knelt in the cold, pleading with God for one last miracle.

I vowed to repay the world with a hundred good deeds if only He would give me one thing: his life.

Once I have signed that final contract, I will fulfill the last task.

I would leave without hesitation and never look back.

1

“Prisoner 9527, you’re free to go.”

The prison gates creaked open, and the blinding sunlight pierced my eyes like a blade. For a moment, I felt like a ghost stumbling back into the land of the living.

Right then, a message popped up on my phone.

My former fiancé, Callum Drayton, was beginning to regain consciousness.

The moment I read those words, my vision blurred. Tears streamed down my face before I could stop them.

I hadn’t shed a single tear during the false charges, the beatings, or the suffocating solitude behind bars.

But that message cracked me open.

This was the moment I had waited for, for what felt like an eternity.

Ten years ago, Callum had been in a tragic car crash the night before our wedding. He had slipped into a coma, and the man I loved became a silent shell.

In desperation, I had knelt in a chapel for ninety-nine days straight. The priest, moved by my devotion, told me God had sent a message.

Complete one hundred acts of penance with the right people, and your lover will return.

That became my miracle, my one purpose: to bring Callum back to life.

For ten years, I gave everything to Jaxon. No pride. No limits. I did everything he asked without question.

Three years ago, in his ruthless quest to become the Aldridge heir, he used corporate espionage to destroy his competitor.

And like every man with power, he already had a scapegoat in mind.

That night, he texted me. My stomach hurts.

Worried, I hurried to the estate with warm soup in hand.

But the moment I stepped inside, the lights went out, and a pair of hands shoved me hard to the ground.

“So it’s you! What are you doing here in the middle of the night?!”

When the lights flickered back on, the room was packed with police, prosecutors, company executives, and Jaxon. He stood across from me, his expression cold and void of anything human.

“It was her. She stole our company’s secrets.”

A policeman stepped forward. “Liora Whitmore, we have concrete evidence. Do you confess?”

This was my 98th deed, only two steps away from the end.

I smiled and answered clearly, “I confess.”

I was sentenced to three years. No one came. Not a single visit. The guards and staff treated me like trash, like something rotting behind bars.

“They say she’s the reason the Aldridge family lost millions.”

“She even dragged Jaxon’s name through the mud. Disgusting woman.”

To the world, I was nothing but a criminal. I walked out bitterly, no one waiting, no taxi in sight. So I walked, legs trembling, dragging my weary soul toward the Aldridge estate.

After a long journey, I arrived. The entrance was covered in white roses. A red carpet stretched down the path like something out of a dream.

Luxury cars gleamed under the sun.

A grand banner fluttered in the wind: [Welcome back, Miss!]

For a brief, foolish second, I thought it was for me.

But then a voice, cold as frost, cut through the illusion.

“Liora, did you forget your place? These flowers aren’t for your filthy hands.”

Jaxon stood behind me, distant, untouchable.

And just then, a delicate girl ran into his arms.

Clad in an elegant gown, it was Arabelle. The heroine of this story. Jaxon’s so-called first love.

She had left him for a wealthier man. But the moment he rose to power, she came back.

So, this whole event wasn’t for me; it was for her return.

Inside the estate, I instantly felt how wrong I looked, wrapped in tattered prison clothes that didn’t belong in a world of luxury.

Hunger gnawed at me; I hadn’t had a proper meal in years.

I reached for a slice of cake, but someone smacked it out of my hand and crushed it beneath their heel.

A group of rich brats burst into laughter.

One of them shoved my head to the floor. “This is where you belong; lick it clean.”

I struggled against them. The noise caught Jaxon’s attention.

Arabelle spotted me and spoke sweetly, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “This is the friend who just got out of prison?”

All eyes turned toward me, humiliation burning my skin as I remained pinned to the floor.

Then Arabelle knelt and pulled me up, gently wiping the cream from my cheek.

“Be grateful, okay? Jaxon, let you come back.”

Jaxon handed me a document. “Sign this. Marry someone in Arabelle’s place. Repay your debt.”

It was a marriage contract to wed a man in a coma.

Sneers echoed around me.

“They’ll probably substitute a rooster for the groom.”

“She’s marrying into the Montgomery family. Every bride there ends up dead.”

Jaxon looked torn. “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to…”

“I’ll do it.”

I cut him off, just as calm as I had been when I fell for him all those years ago.

He stared at me, stunned. “You’re willing?”

I met his gaze without flinching. “This is what you wanted, right? Is this the final thing I need to do for you?”

Sensing his hesitation, Arabelle leaned into him.

“Jaxon, are you going soft?”

That snapped him out of it. He pulled her into a tight embrace.

“I’d never let Arabelle marry someone like that.”

She smiled victorious.

I picked up the pen and signed my name.

When I didn’t even hesitate, he tried to soften the blow.

“I’ll treat you well this week. If you want, you can sleep in my bed.”

Then came the knife beneath the sugar.

“But we won’t have kids. I’ll never father a child that isn’t Arabelle’s.”

I didn’t respond. A strange calm settled over me.

After this last task, in seven days, I would finally be free.