On the day the twins were supposed to be born, my wife bought up all the tocolytics in the hospital, refusing to let the children come into this world.

The nurses kept urging me to sign the surgical consent form so they could perform an emergency delivery—otherwise, the babies would suffocate.

Yet I remained silent.

Because in my past life, Helena Taylor had been diagnosed with congenital infertility. To secure an heir, she kept eighty-eight male models by her side, entertaining her every day.

She coaxed me, saying that if I could just get her pregnant, she would send all those men away the moment our child was born and make our baby the rightful heir.

I believed her. Step by step, kowtowing with every move, I spent three days and nights climbing to the most sacred fertility temple, praying only for a child with her.

When Helena finally conceived twins, I was overjoyed.

But on the day of delivery, she stubbornly delayed labor. I knelt, begging her to give birth before it was too late.

Later, when she emerged from the delivery room, I held our twins in my arms, tears of joy streaming down my face as I presented them to her.

Yet her face darkened. She snatched the babies and slammed them onto the ground—blood splattered everywhere.

Ignoring my screams, she ordered her bodyguards to drag me to a fresh grave and forced me to kowtow until my forehead split open.

"If you hadn’t driven Lucian away back then, the child in my belly would have been his! The heir should have been ours!" she shrieked. "I was going to claim Lucian’s child as my firstborn before these bastards were even born—to make him the heir! But you refused! You forced me to have your children!"

"Now you and these two abominations have stolen what rightfully belonged to Lucian and his child! You drove them to despair and suicide! I’ll make you pay with your life!"

I was beaten to death right there, at Lucian’s grave.

But when I opened my eyes again—I was back on the day she refused to give birth.

This time, I wouldn’t stop her. I’d let her have her "happy family of three."

The doctors and nurses were still pleading desperately: "Helena, you must deliver now! Any longer and the babies will die!"

Helena waved them off impatiently, her bodyguards shoving the medical staff aside. Then she turned to me, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Jack Wellington, if you dare sign that form, I’ll divorce you."

For a moment, I froze—then it hit me. I’d really gone back.

Hearing her threat, I didn’t fall to my knees and beg like I had in my past life.

Instead, I sat down calmly and said, "Fine. I’ll do as you say."

My obedience startled her. "Sarcasm won’t work," she snapped. "I’m not having these babies."

Just then, a bodyguard burst in. "Lucian and his son have returned to the country!"

Helena’s face lit up with joy. "Perfect!" she declared. "I hereby name Lucian’s child as my firstborn—my heir!"

"As for these two in my belly—get them out now. I need to see my Lucian!"

Even after enduring a lifetime of pain, hearing her treat our children like this still tore at my heart.

Thirty minutes later, Helena, ignoring postpartum recovery, changed into a tight, revealing outfit and left.

A nurse came running out, screaming, "You can’t take the babies! Their heartbeats are fading—they need emergency NICU care!"

My chest clenched—Helena’s bodyguards were forcibly carrying the infants away.

I rushed after them, but before I could reach my children, one of the guards knocked me out cold with a single punch.

The next thing I knew, I was being dragged away—straight to a press conference.

Helena's male model lovers were also brought to the scene.

Everyone, including me, was surrounded by bodyguards, their thick arms wielding clubs that struck our legs and lower bodies.

The venue was instantly filled with screams and wails, the stench of blood quickly permeating the air.

"Even if Helena has a child, Mr. Helena wants to deal with us. But why cripple us?! Ah, it hurts! Help—"

I, too, was kicked to the ground by the bodyguards, nailed clubs raining down on me, leaving my flesh mangled within seconds.

My cries startled the male models present, who panicked:

"Why is Helena's husband here too? Then who exactly wants all of us dead?"

Rolling in pain, I gritted my teeth and shouted outside: "Help!"

Just then, Lucian in a white suit walked in arm-in-arm with Helena, holding a little boy's hand, his face brimming with smug satisfaction.

The moment Helena entered and saw her male model lovers lying battered on the floor, her expression changed instantly.

"Who told you to touch them?!"

Lucian covered his nose and said, "Oh my, how did all these brothers end up crippled? Who was so cruel as to ruin them all?"

Before he could finish, Helena glared at me and kicked me hard in the stomach.

"You damn dog of a man! You tried to cripple them behind my back—you're consumed by jealousy!"

Doubled over in pain, I looked at Lucian standing behind her, his face triumphant.

I gritted out, "I didn’t... It must be him—"

"Still denying it?" she roared. "You think I don’t know? This isn’t the first time you’ve harmed others out of jealousy! In this life, I won’t indulge you anymore."

She barked at the bodyguards, "Make every male model slap him once. After this, I’ll send you all to the best hospitals for treatment. The one who hits the hardest gets a million as a reward."

The bodyguards pinned me down in the center, ignoring the blood still pouring from my wounds.

The boys stepped forward, slapping me, their eyes apologetic: "Sorry, Mr. Jack..."

One after another, slap after slap, until my ears rang and my vision blurred, one ear now deafened.

Only after everyone had been taken away did Helena finally take Lucian's child by the hand and pull Lucian to stand before me.

Looking at my blood-soaked body and bleeding face, a flicker of hesitation flashed in her eyes.

But the next moment, she lifted her chin and said coldly:

"Don’t blame me for making them hit you. I had to teach you a lesson—so you’d know this is what happens if you dare act out of jealousy or harm others again."

"Otherwise, you’d just scheme to steal Lucian and his child’s position as heirs again."

I shuddered and looked up at her.

So… I wasn’t the only one who had been reborn.

No wonder the moment Lucian spoke, she immediately blamed me.

No wonder she said this "wasn’t the first time" I’d done this.

Because in our past life, she’d also falsely accused me, sentencing me to death for Lucian’s sake.

My eyes reddened, but she only said coldly:

"Jack, playing pitiful won’t work this time. In this life, I wasn’t fooled into giving birth early, letting your child steal the position of my firstborn and heir from Lucian’s."

I let out a bitter laugh, clutching my bleeding body, and whispered:

"Helena… This time, I didn’t stop you from delaying the birth. I stepped aside with our children to make way for your family of three. So why… why won’t you let me go? Why must you still kill my children…?"

She froze, brows furrowing.

"You crippled them, yet you act like you’re dying just from a few slaps—and now you’re saying I won’t let you go? What exactly have I done to you?"

"The children are perfectly fine in the nursery—stop using them as an excuse!"

I begged her repeatedly to return my children—they needed emergency treatment.

Her face twisted in disgust as she shook off my hand impatiently.

"Enough with the act. If you’d just behaved, I wouldn’t have touched those two bastards. Oh, and at tomorrow’s press conference, you’ll publicly admit that you were the infertile one, that you were useless, which is why I had Quentin with Lucian."

"Then you’ll transfer all your shares and assets to him and his child. From now on, you’ll serve them both properly."

"If you dare scheme again—if you so much as touch a single hair on his head—what I do next won’t just be to you and those bastards. Your critically ill father? Don’t expect him to keep resting peacefully in that VIP hospital room."

My eyes widened in disbelief.

"Helena, have you no conscience?! My father is in a vegetative coma because he saved you! How can you threaten his life?!"

Helena scoffed. "As long as you serve Lucian well, take care of Quentin, and don’t upset them, I won’t touch him."

With that, she left arm-in-arm with Lucian.

"Lucian, thank you for giving me such a perfect heir. I’ll reward you properly tonight."

Blood gushed from my wounds as I pleaded with the remaining bodyguards to take me to the hospital—to bring my children back.

Then my mother-in-law rushed in. Seeing the blood-drenched hall and my shattered legs, she paled.

"Get him to a hospital now! Where are my grandchildren?! If anything happens to them—!"

Only then were the children and I taken to the hospital. But the doctors never came.

Furious, my mother-in-law demanded answers.

The nurses hesitated.

"Mrs. Taylor... all the doctors in the city were summoned to Riverside Villa. Lucian pricked his finger during a blood draw, and Helena panicked. She ordered every physician to stand by."

"Right now... there are no doctors available."

My mother-in-law made call after call, shaking. "This is insanity! Her husband and children are dying, yet she hoards every doctor for that homewrecker and his illegitimate brat?!"

On the tenth call, Helena finally answered, annoyed.

"What now? Did Jack send you to bother me again?"

"Jack is hemorrhaging—he’s unconscious! The babies’ heartbeats have stopped! Are you trying to kill your own family?!"

Helena laughed coldly. "Did Jack put you up to this? A few slaps couldn’t cause hemorrhaging."

"And I saw those children taken to the nursery. They were fine then. Think harder before lying."

"Enough. I’m taking Quentin’s newborn photos. If he needs a doctor so badly, fine—I’ll send one."

As the call ended, my mother-in-law gripped my hand.

"Hold on, Jack. Help is coming."

I clutched my children, feeling their life fading.

In our past life, they’d died without ever opening their eyes—without even a single cry—as Helena smashed them against the floor.

Trembling, I squeezed her hand.

"Mother-in-law... three years ago, when my father fell into a coma saving Helena, you promised to treat me as your own son. That if Helena turned against me... you’d help me divorce her."