The 99th time I caught Sarah Burton cheating, she slept with my foster brother, Lucas, just to get back at me.

When I walked in on them in bed, there wasn't a trace of guilt on her face. If anything, she looked unapologetically smug.

"Jason," she said, "your brother's a hell of a lot better than you."

In my past life, those words broke me completely. I lost my mind. I leaked their sex photos to the entire world.

Sarah couldn't take the humiliation. She divorced me.

My parents were so disgusted that they kicked me out for good.

I thought I'd bounce back. I was wrong.

I'd spent the first eighteen years of my life growing up wild in the countryside. Even after the Robinsons brought me back, I had no real-life skills. I didn't know how to survive in their world.

Then Sarah's family came after me. I went years without a proper meal. By my early thirties, I died of cancer.

Meanwhile, Lucas married Sarah and climbed straight into high society.

And me? I was just the ex-husband who became a joke to everyone.

Now, I open my eyes again. I'm back on the day she slept with him.

"Jason, what are you waiting for? Get in there and see who that bastard is!"

My mother's voice was urgent, her face twisted with worry, like she actually cared about me.

But if you think about it for two seconds, it's obvious: this whole setup was her and Lucas's doing.

In my past life, I was supposed to be out of town. She came to me personally with the tip. I flew into a rage, stormed home, and ended up brawling with both of them. I hit Sarah. She lost the baby.

My mother acted heartbroken, but she blamed me for all of it. Because of her, I lost my child, my marriage, and any foothold I had left in the world.

I shut my burning eyes and forced down the dull ache in my chest. Then I turned and walked away.

This time around, I've figured it out. Love doesn't matter one bit. Money matters.

Seeing me walk off like I couldn't care less, my mother's face flickered with shock. She gritted her teeth and shoved the bedroom door open herself.

A scream followed.

Lucas scrambled to pull the sheet over himself, his face full of regret.

"Mom... I was drunk. I didn't mean to—"

My mother pretended to be horrified, lunging at him and sobbing as she smacked his head.

Sarah didn't panic at all. She grabbed a robe, threw it on, and lit herself a cigarette. She looked at me, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"So, what are you going to do this time?"

The first time I caught her, I chased her lover out of the house naked.

The second time, I slashed her assistant's face.

The third time, I showed up at her company and caused the stock price to tank.

I can't even remember how many times it happened anymore. All I remember is my own hoarse screaming and the ugly snarl on my face. Everyone who saw me would sneer, "Here comes the crazy husband again."

And each time, Sarah just pushed further.

But this life? I'm done with her. All I want is a quiet, comfortable life.

Suddenly, Lucas dropped to his knees in front of me with a thud.

"Jason, it's my fault," he said, his voice shaking. "Don't blame Sarah. Blame me."

So brave. So noble. Throwing himself on the grenade to protect his woman.

Sure enough, Sarah's expression softened just a little. When she looked back at me, her eyes were even sharper.

"Jason, I—"

"Okay, well, if that's it, I'm leaving. I'm gonna be late meeting my friends."

I cut her off before she could finish. Then, pretending not to notice the stunned look on her face, I turned and walked out.

My mother panicked. But by the time she ran after me, I was already gone. She just stood there, frozen, her mouth hanging open.

Nobody saw that coming.

That day, I was mature enough to give Sarah plenty of space to handle things. I didn't bother coming home until one in the morning.

But when I opened the door, Sarah was standing there, glaring at me with a dark expression.

"Where the hell have you been? I called you a dozen times."

I paused mid-yawn and said flatly, "Went to an auto show with some friends."

Sarah looked at me like she didn't believe me for a second, her eyes scanning my face. She probably expected me to be crying, screaming, maybe even on the verge of hurting myself. The last thing she expected was for me to do nothing and just go have fun.

"What are you up to now? Lucas is your brother. Have a little decency and don't go after an innocent person."

I shook my head, my voice calm. "He's my brother. I'm not going to do anything to him."

Then I remembered something and added, "He's sick, probably from the shock. You should go see him tomorrow."

The room went dead silent.

Sarah's voice sounded like it was being squeezed out of her throat. "You want me to go see him?"

I knew why she was so shocked. In the past, I would never have told her to go see another man. Hell, if I even saw someone talk to her for more than a few seconds, I'd lose my mind and interrogate her for three days straight. Looking back, I was insane.

She grabbed my wrist, her eyes full of confusion, her voice even trembling a little. "Jason, what is wrong with you?"

I brushed her hand off, my tone steady the whole time. "Nothing. Don't overthink it."

I was tired after a long day.

Sarah followed me, her face pale with anger. But just as she reached for me, her phone rang.

She answered. My mother's hysterical crying came through the speaker.

"Lucas tried to kill himself! Someone leaked the photos, and he couldn't take it. He took pills!"

Sarah's head snapped toward me, her eyes sharp and dangerous.

I stood there, a little stunned. To be fair, I had done exactly that in my past life. But this time, it wasn't me. What did I have to do with it?

Before I could explain, Sarah grabbed me and dragged me to the car, not caring how much I resisted.

At the hospital, my mother dropped to her knees in front of me. Her face was twisted with desperate, pleading love for Lucas.

"Please," she begged. "I'm begging you. Let Sarah go. Give her to Lucas. He's suffered so much."

Watching my mother's blatant favoritism, my chest still ached with a dull, familiar pain.

If anyone deserves pity, it's me. I was the one switched at birth. I grew up clawing my way through life in the countryside.

At four years old, I was climbing onto kitchen counters to teach myself how to cook. If my foster mother wasn't happy, she'd slap me across the face.

I dropped out of school at twelve. My foster father sent me to work in a textile factory, where my thumb and index finger were crushed by a machine. I still have the scars.

The first day the Robinsons brought me back, my own mother looked at me with disgust and questioned it more than once. "Are you sure he's really our son? He's so... country."

My mother's wailing pulled me back to the moment. I looked over at Sarah. She was staring right at me, not blinking, like she was waiting for my answer, too.

I smiled and turned back to my mother.

"Of course. I can't give him the marriage certificate, but Sarah can stay by Lucas's side for as long as he needs."

My mother's face froze.

But Sarah walked toward me, grabbed my arm, and pinned me against the wall.

"You screwed up, so now you're pawning me off for your mistakes?" Her voice cracked. "Jason, what the hell do I even mean to you?"

Her scream rang in my ears, and by the end, she was practically choking on her own words.

I looked at her red-rimmed eyes, genuinely confused.

"Isn't this what you wanted?"

From day one, Sarah hated our arranged marriage. She thought I was vulgar and low-class. Sure, she married me, but that never stopped her from doing whatever she wanted on the side.

So why was she acting like this now?

While we were arguing, Lucas was brought back from the edge.

The second he saw me, he screamed and curled in on himself, backing away like I was some kind of monster. "Don't come near me! You already leaked my photos, what more do you want?! Get out! Just get out!"

My parents immediately stepped between us, their eyes throwing daggers of suspicion my way.

My throat tasted like blood. I forced the words out. "I didn't spread those photos. If you don't believe me, call the cops right now."

I pulled out my phone.

Sarah snatched it out of my hands and smashed it on the floor before I could even blink. "Haven't you caused enough of a scene?!"

The sound of my phone shattering echoed down the hospital hallway.

Someone recognized me. They held up their phone and started recording.

"That's the guy from Belland City—the famous jealous husband who's always catching his wife cheating."

"Honestly, I kind of feel bad for him. His parents don't give a damn about him. I heard his bride ditched him for a bar on their wedding night."

"Yeah, he chased after her in his tux and got into a fight."

On and on they went, talking about every stupid thing I'd ever done.

My head was ringing. I could see that night again like it was happening right in front of me.

The pouring rain. Sarah wrapped around some muscle-bound guy, kissing him like no one was watching.

I charged at them, no thinking, just pure rage. But I was outnumbered. They shoved me to the ground and beat me. My white tuxedo was ruined—filthy, torn, soaked through.

And Sarah just stood there watching.

It wasn't until a crowd gathered that she finally bothered to pull them off me. She looked down at me with pure disgust. "Just go home. Stop embarrassing yourself."

My body started shaking. I dug my nails into my numb palms and tried to walk away, my steps unsteady.

But Sarah thought I was running. She grabbed me and shoved me down onto the edge of the bed.

"You did something wrong, so apologize. Now."

My knees slammed into the floor. The pain drained the color from my face. I looked at my parents, begging for some kind of help. They both looked away at the exact same time.

My heart sank like a stone. I let out a bitter laugh.

It's fine. I stopped expecting anything from them a long time ago. I didn't want to fight Sarah anyway. All I cared about was keeping the baby safe.

Lucas just watched me, waiting. He was waiting for me to lose it, to start foaming at the mouth like I always did, like the pathetic clown they all thought I was.

But I just looked at him, calm as anything, and accepted the lie. "I'm sorry, Lucas."

Lucas's face froze. He stared at me, completely stunned.

Sarah helped me to my feet. She smiled and ruffled my hair. "I'm proud of you for admitting you were wrong."

I didn't react. I just said, "There's a car I really want. Can you buy it for me?"

Sarah's smile faltered. Her brow furrowed.

She used to love throwing money at me to shut me up. But now that money was all I cared about, something about it made her deeply uncomfortable.

In the end, I got the car. But Sarah's face stayed sour.

My mother looked at me with a mix of annoyance and contempt, like she was thinking, 'See? This is why you'll never be classy.'

I didn't give any of them a second thought. I just turned to leave.

And then Lucas hugged me from behind. "I forgive you, Jason," he said, playing the part of the loving little brother.

Before I could even react, he collapsed onto the floor. His face twisted with fake terror as he looked up at me.

"Jason, please don't hit me. I swear I won't tell anyone."

The whole room went dead silent.

I stood there, completely lost. I took a step toward him.

"What are you talking about?"

Lucas only screamed louder, scrambling behind Sarah like a scared animal.

Sarah wrapped her arms around him. She glanced at me, then said, "Don't be afraid. Tell us what happened."